#but the world keeps conspiring against me

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommyFluffebruary day 1: Nonsexual Intimacy

I'm participating in this fluff prompt challenge from @bucktommyfluffebruary because I love fluff and, of course, bucktommy.

The Comfort of Loving Hands

Read on ao3

Tommy turned his truck off and just sat in silence. His body ached and his heart hurt. It had been a rough shift, rough enough that he wasn't sure where he was going to find the energy to walk into his house. Well, his and Evan's house now. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth for a second or two before exhaustion took over again. Even knowing Evan was waiting inside wasn't enough to get him moving. He sank forward until his forehead was resting on the steering wheel. His eyes closed and he thought he could just sleep here.

An unknowing time later, a quiet tapping at his window startled him. He turned his head slowly to see Evan smiling at him through the window. A touch of worry and sympathy filled his eyes.

“Hey, you feel ready to come inside yet?” Evan asked, his voice muffled by the window. “Lucy texted that there was a bad call near the end of your shift. I made soup, if you feel up to eating.”

Tommy groaned, levering himself back up. He scrubbed a hand over his face. A slight pain in the side of his neck warned him that, even though he could just sleep here, his body would regret it in the morning. Finally, Tommy nodded and managed to get himself out of the truck. Without a word, Evan folded him into his arms and just held him for a long moment. As he pressed a soft kiss to Tommy's temple, Tommy let some of the tension that tangled his muscles go.

“C'mon, sweetheart, let's get you inside,” Evan murmured, pressing another kiss to Tommy's temple. “Food and then I'll take more care of you.”

Tommy nodded, hiding the yawn that stretched his jaw against Evan's shoulder. They walked slowly into the house, Tommy letting a good portion of his weight rest on Evan. As soon as the scent hit him when they walked inside, he groaned in pleasure. The house was redolent with the savory scents of chicken and dumpling soup and fresh baked bread. They headed to the kitchen where slices of bread, a little dish of soft butter, and two steaming bowls of soup sat on the table. Glasses of water cold with condensation looked like the greatest treasure in the world. The back of Tommy's throat burned and the taste of smoke lingered. 

As soon as Tommy sat, he picked up the glass of water and drank like a man dying of thirst. The slick cold finally eased the burn and washed away the smoke. He finished the glass on a single breath, letting out a whooshing sigh as he set the glass down again. Evan took it and refilled it, setting it on the table as he stroked a hand over Tommy's shoulders.

“If and when you're ready to talk, I'm here,” Evan said as he settled into his own seat next to Tommy. “Until then, I hope you enjoy the soup.”

Tommy nodded, not trusting his voice yet. Sorrow mingled with a growing sense of wonder at the care Evan was showing him. Both conspired to make him unable to speak just yet. So he took a slice of bread, spread some butter on it, and dunked it into his soup. The first bite had him groaning again in appreciation. His stomach woke up and demanded more. For several minutes, he and Evan ate in silence. Every once in a while, Evan reached across and rubbed a hand over his shoulder or squeezed his thigh. Just keeping contact between them and letting him know he was there. Tommy’s heart swelled with love.

It wasn't until his bowl was almost empty that he found the strength to talk.

“We... we lost a lot of people today,” he started slowly, staring at the last couple dumplings floating in his bowl. “I don't know how much Lucy told you.”

“Just that there was a building collapse and it was bad,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy’s thigh again. “She said you were gonna be hit hard by it. And the text you sent me about your shift being almost over made me think you were having a hard time. It was distant. Like you were trying to focus on something else.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, setting his spoon down to rub his hand over his face again. “I was trying not to fall apart. The collapse... I was hovering over the roof at the time. Saw a victim and another firefighter fall through the roof.”

“I'm so sorry, Tommy,” Evan said softly, scooting his chair a little closer to press his shoulder against Tommy's.

“That was the beginning of it,” Tommy continued, leaning into Evan's shoulder. He pushed his bowl away, unable to face eating more while memories played through his mind. “It was a four story apartment building. Fire spread quick. I'm sure there were some corners cut in construction. The smoke alarms didn't go off so people were trapped.”

Evan didn't say anything, just let Tommy talk. He knew, had been through similar calls. Evan had lost people before too. Evan knew sometimes all you needed was silence and closeness. When Tommy drew in a shaky breath, he draped an arm over Tommy’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“Ground ops was working frantically to try to get people out. A few managed to get out windows after the fire cut off the stairwells,” Tommy said, his voice starting to shake. He tangled his fingers together and squeezed his hands tightly. “I was coming back for the third time, going to pick up a burn victim. The first two trips were just getting people off the roof, so they were quick.”

“The third was when the collapse started?” Evan asked softly when Tommy stopped talking for several shaky breaths. He rubbed a hand over Tommy's back when tears started tracking down his cheeks.

“He was almost in the helicopter,” Tommy whispered, eyes closing as he remembered that moment. “Lucy was with me and she was reaching for him to help him up. I don't know who the other firefighter was. I couldn't spare too much time to look. Not with needing to control the hover.”

“We'll find out,” Evan promised. “I know it's important so we'll find out who they were.”

“It is and we will,” Tommy nodded. He opened his eyes to press a soft kiss to Evan's lips. “The victim too. I want to know his name. He deserves that.”

“Of course,” Evan replied. “Are you okay? You don't have to keep telling me about what happened if you're not okay.”

“I'm not okay but I think I need to get this out,” Tommy shook his head. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again. “It was quick, just like how the fire spread. One moment, the roof was mostly solid. The next, it was gone. I heard screams from both the firefighter and the victim as they disappeared. I could hear more rumbling and crashing as floor after floor followed. Then Lucy was yelling that we needed to go. She managed to close the door as a gout of flame roared up around the helicopter. Then I left. The captain radioed to have the helicopter head back to Harbor. There wasn't any more we could do.”

“Lucy texted me on the flight,” Evan murmured, kissing Tommy's temple again. “She told me you were gonna need me and that she was going to go get drunk when her shift ended.”

“Well, Lucy knows what she wants and doesn't hesitate to go for it,” Tommy chuckled. “I'm sure she's doing exactly that right now. But thank you, Evan, for listening. And for dinner. It all helped.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Evan said, rubbing his hand over Tommy's back again. “I'm always here. Are you done eating? I have something else planned for you.”

Tommy nodded but picked up his glass to finish off his water. It helped wash away the phantom scent of smoke the memories brought back. As he drank, Evan bustled around the kitchen cleaning up. It didn't take long for the dishes to make their way to the dishwasher and for the soup and bread to be packed away. Then, taking Tommy's hand, Evan led him back through their bedroom and into the bathroom.

For a few moments, Tommy froze in the doorway as he took in the sight of the bathroom. The overhead light was off but the room was filled with a buttery golden light. Electric candles littered the counter and a few rested at the inner corners of the tub. A bottle of bath gel sat on the edge of the tub along with a bottle of shampoo and a wash cloth. Also, incongruously, a small coffee mug. Tommy's favorite robe hung on the hook next to the shower stall that usually held a towel. It was soft and fluffy, like being enveloped by a cloud.

“I thought you might need something to help relax you,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy's hand before letting go. He turned the water on in the tub, adjusting it until it steamed. Then he turned to Tommy and started undressing him. “C'mon, let me take care of you.”

Tommy let himself be nudged and turned, stepping out of his jeans and balancing with one hand on Evan's shoulder when asked. When Tommy was nude, Evan wrapped his hands around Tommy's hips and moved him towards the tub. Then he stripped quickly out of his own clothes. He stepped away from Tommy long enough to pour some of the bath gel into the water. The sharp, clean scent of lavender filled the room. Then he slid into the tub and tugged Tommy after him. 

Tommy went gratefully, settling back against Evan's chest. Their legs stretched out along the length of the tub. Once again, Tommy was grateful that when he'd remodeled the bathroom years ago, he'd splurged on the oversized tub. There was barely enough room for the two of them. But they fit. He let out a deep sigh as his head tipped back to settle on Evan's shoulder. When Evan leaned forward to shut the water off, he let out a small sound of discontent.

“Sorry, sweetheart, don't want to flood the room,” Evan murmured against Tommy's ear. He wrapped an arm around Tommy's waist and hugged him. “How's that?”

“ ‘s good,” Tommy whispered, closing his eyes. The warmth of the water was relaxing his muscles the rest of the way. Exhaustion tugged at him and he let his body sag against Evan's. 

“Good,” Evan replied. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you,” Tommy smiled without opening his eyes. He managed to lift one tired arm and patted the arm around his waist. “Thank you for this too. I appreciate it.”

Evan hummed in response. He pressed kisses along Tommy's temple and along the side of his head. As he did, his free arm rubbed over Tommy’s shoulder and arm. He massaged the side he could reach in long, slow strokes. A warm, golden silence grew between them as Tommy slowly relaxed against his chest. After a time, Evan switched arms, wrapping his free arm around Tommy’s waist and hugging him before releasing his other arm.

Using the same slow, liquid motions, Evan repeated the massage on Tommy’s other shoulder and arm. Through the careful way Evan stroked over his skin and the simple fact that he held him without letting him go, the memories receded enough to stop hurting as sharply. They became something he could face without feeling as if he’d failed completely. Yes, lives had been lost. Yes, some of those lives had been just inches from safety. But he’d done everything he could and he had saved people. The collapse wasn’t his fault nor were the lives lost. He had done everything he could. Now, in the shelter of Evan’s arms, he could let go of the guilt. Sadness and grief took its place but that was all right. Those weren’t new emotions. Nor was this the last time he would feel them. But now, he could feel the loss and, eventually, move on from it.

About the time his mind had worked through that chain of thought, Evan stopped massaging his shoulder and arm. After placing another kiss on top of his head, Evan leaned forward enough to grab the shampoo bottle. Tommy heard the top clicking open and a soft, slick sound as Evan presumably squeezed shampoo into his hand. Then, gentle but sure fingers were carding through his hair and scratching over his scalp. Tommy let out a moan as Evan tilted his head up a little to reach the back. A quiet chuckle answered the moan but neither broke the silence with words. Evan continued to massage his fingers through Tommy’s hair and against his scalp, working the shampoo in. Tommy let his head be moved as Evan wanted it, his eyes still closed. It was heavenly, putting himself completely into Evan’s hands, knowing that he could trust him with every part of himself.

The scent of the shampoo overwhelmed the last clinging scents of sweat and smoke. Of course, Tommy had showered at Harbor before leaving but it had been quick. More to wash the worst of the call off him so that he wouldn’t drag it into his truck. Now, with Evan’s careful ministrations, he was truly getting clean. Another moan rumbled in his throat as Evan’s nails scratched over the back of his head just above the nape of his neck. Then, his fingers pushed through his hair from the base of his skull all the way up over the curve of his head and to the edge of his hairline. Then, they spidered their way through the sides of Tommy’s hair before massaging behind the curve of Tommy’s ears.

“Okay, baby, tilt your head back so I can rinse the shampoo out,” Evan murmured. “Keep your eyes closed for me.”

There was a quiet clink against the tub then warm water was pouring over his head a moment later. It took Tommy a moment but then he realized it must be that coffee mug he’d seen earlier. Now its presence made sense. As more water flowed over his head, he smiled as Evan’s fingers combed through his hair. The warm water threatened to put him to sleep each time Evan poured it over his head. Finally, some time later, Evan put the mug back on the edge of the tub and pressed another kiss to the top of his head.

“Hey, you still awake, Tommy?” Evan asked, rubbing a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and down to his collarbone.

“Mmmm,” Tommy hummed in reply, feeling too comfortable to actually speak.

“Okay, next part,” Evan replied. “You can keep your eyes closed. Just let me move you, okay?”

“Mmmm,” Tommy hummed again.

He heard some indistinct movements though he couldn’t quite what they were. There was a rubbing sound, like cloth between hands. Then a soft, warm, fluffy weight tracked over his shoulders. He could smell more lavender and the sharp, clean scent was soothing. After several seconds, as the weight moved over both his shoulders and down one arm, he realized it was the wash cloth he’d seen earlier. Evan was washing his skin, cleansing the last lingering bits of the call that clung to him. Tears gathered in his eyes as Tommy moved his arm up when Evan nudged his elbow. None of his previous partners had ever done this for him. Most of the time, he was the one caring and pampering and spoiling. Though it wasn’t like his previous partners just ignored him. But it was never this level of care and love.

A tear leaked out of one eye and trickled slowly down his cheek. With one arm being slowly and gently washed and the other too tired to move, he didn’t wipe it away. It took a few seconds but Evan noticed the tear. One thumb wiped it away, lingering at the corner of Tommy’s eye for a few seconds. The thumb was replaced by Evan’s lips, the kiss lingering even longer.

“You okay?” Evan asked as he threaded his fingers through the fingers of the hand he was washing. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, don’t stop,” Tommy shook his head, cracking his eyes open and meeting Evan’s gaze. “Please don’t.”

“All right. Can you tell me what you’re thinking?” Evan asked. He squeezed Tommy’s hand then let it go to rub the cloth back up his arm.

“It’s just... you. No one’s ever done something like this for me. No one but you,” Tommy said slowly, his voice catching. “Taken care of me like this.”

“I’m glad to do it,” Evan murmured, his expression impossibly soft and fond. He moved the cloth over the back of Tommy’s neck and down his other arm. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You do. I feel like my insides are too small to contain how much you make me feel,” Tommy admitted. “I love you so much.”

Evan smiled and kissed him. The kiss was soft and tender, lingering in the gentle brush of lips. It was as much a promise as a gesture of affection; the promise that they were here, together, and Evan wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was Tommy, for that matter. This was it. For both of them. As they kissed, Evan moved the cloth back up Tommy’s arm and down over his chest. The motion was as slow as the kiss, enjoying being present together. After several long heartbeats, Evan broke the kiss.

“Can you lean forward for me so I can wash your back?” Evan asked, pressing gently on the back of Tommy’s shoulders.

Instead of answering, Tommy leaned forward following the pressure of Evan’s fingers. He propped his elbows on his legs and rested his chin on his hands. Closing his eyes again as the cloth wiped slowly over his back, he luxuriated in the intimacy and love. And, as the cloth moved over his lower back and curled around one hip, he marveled at the fact that, while it could have turned more passionate, it didn’t. Passion between them could be quick, a match strike lighting both of them up. But that wasn’t what either wanted now. Not what they were both basking in at the moment.

After soft nudges and gentle prods from Evan convinced him that Tommy was settled in his position, Evan moved to sit on the edge of the tub. He lifted one of Tommy’s legs and swiped the cloth over it in long, smooth motions. When he was sure every inch of Tommy’s leg was cleaned, he switched to the other leg. It got the same treatment, held carefully in Evan’s hand so that Tommy didn’t feel unsteady. After his second leg was set back in the hot water, Evan nudged his legs apart so he could settle in between them, facing Tommy. Tommy leaned back against the back of the tub, giving Evan room.

“What are you doing now?” Tommy asked, opening his eyes.

“Well, all that’s left is the front of your neck and your face,” Evan said, waving the cloth as he spoke. Soapy bubbles burbled on the cloth. “Do you want me to do it or do you want to?”

“I trust you,” Tommy said simply. He smiled when Evan inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. Then he closed his eyes and tilted his face up a little.

After a couple silent seconds, the cloth touched the base of his throat. It moved up slowly over his neck, Evan’s fingers curling around the sides of his throat. Tommy swallowed automatically, tears prickling his eyes again. They weren’t laced with grief or sadness this time. Instead it was pure awe and love. The cloth moved up over his chin, Evan’s thumb slotting into the cleft for a moment like it belonged there. It slid to one cheek, sliding up and over his cheekbone before coming back down to his chin. Then it went to his other cheek, repeating the motion. After it came back to his chin, Evan moved the cloth ever so gently over his lips and up the point of his nose. It tickled, making him chuckle a bit. Evan repeated the motion, laughing with him when Tommy chuckled again.

“Didn’t think you’d be ticklish here,” Evan commented, letting his thumb trace Tommy’s bottom lip. “Or is it just the cloth?”

“The cloth, I think,” Tommy replied, kissing the pad of Evan’s thumb. “But it’s not too bad.”

“Good. Almost done.”

The cloth moved up the bridge of Tommy’s nose. It swiped to the sides, tracing the shape of his nose, before continuing up onto his forehead. Then, in a long, slow sweeps, it moved side to side over the width of his forehead. He could hear the soap bubbles popping on his skin. Finally, the cloth curled over his ears and behind. After that, he could hear the cloth being dunked in the water and squeezed out. Then, the cloth moved over his face again, clearing away all the soap bubbles. Once his face was clean, Evan used the cloth to wipe away the soap over the rest of his body. Then, the water shifted as Evan stood up and pulled the plug to let the water drain.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get you up,” Evan said as he stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel that was sitting next to the candles on the counter and held it with one hand. The other, he extended towards Tommy.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second,” Tommy replied, one corner of his mouth tilting up in a small smirk. “My boyfriend appears to have made all my muscles turn to jelly.”

Evan laughed and shook the towel enticingly at him while wiggling his fingers. After a long breath, Tommy took Evan’s hand and heaved himself to his feet. Water cascaded down his body and he didn’t miss the way Evan’s eyes traced the droplets. He smirked again as he squeezed Evan’s hand. Then he was stepping carefully out of the tub and pressing a kiss to Evan’s lips. The towel wrapped around him even as Evan kissed him back. They kissed for a honey-sweet eternity, Evan’s hand rubbing up and down Tommy’s back. 

Tommy could have stayed in that moment forever except his damp skin caused a chill to shiver up his spine. He could feel goosebumps prickling his arms. They broke the kiss and Evan shivered himself. They shared a smile and Evan toweled them both off with sure, quick motions. Then he grabbed Tommy’s robe and wrapped him in it. He tied the belt with a look of concentration on his face, as if Tommy’s comfort in this moment was the most important thing in the world. Tommy had to cup Evan’s face in his hands and kiss him about it.

“Thank you, again, for all this,” Tommy said when he broke the kiss. Though he stayed close enough that his breath feathered over Evan’s lips. “I don’t have the words for how thankful I am, baby.”

“Of course,” Evan replied, pressing another quick kiss to Tommy’s lips. “I know what it feels like to have a bad call. I know how bad it can get. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Tommy nodded. “Still sad but it’s better. It’s not overwhelming.”

He started to say something else but a yawn stretched his mouth so wide that his jaw cracked. As soon as he closed his mouth, he yawned again. The energy that dinner had given him had sustained him through the bath. Now, it was all draining away. All he wanted to do was curl up with Evan in bed and fall asleep.

Which seemed to be what Evan had in mind as well.

With another chuckle, Evan took his hand and threaded their fingers together. He led the way out to the bedroom and pulled Tommy into the bed. They settled with Evan on his back and Tommy curled into his side with his head resting over Evan’s heart. He could hear the steady beat under his cheek. It sounded strong and sure, as if it would beat until the end of the world. Evan covered them both up and tangled their legs together under the blankets. 

“Go to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to Tommy’s forehead. “I’ve got you.”

“G’night, baby,” Tommy murmured, turning his head enough to lay a kiss over Evan’s heart. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Those words followed Tommy into sleep, Evan’s arms wrapped around him and his heart beating under his cheek.

[artdcnaldson]

smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->

smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them

HEHEHEHE <3

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm

A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this

Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.

His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.

His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.

“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”

He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”

You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.

“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”

Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.

“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”

Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.

“Please—“ was all Art could manage.

“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”

He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.

“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.

Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”

You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.

And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.

The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.

But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.

Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.

“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.

Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”

“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.

When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.

“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.

Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”

You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.

The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.

“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.

“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”

You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.

“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.

“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.

You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.

You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.

It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.

He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.

“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.

You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.

“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.

“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“

You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.

You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.

“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.

“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”

He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.

Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.

“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”

thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵

[wstviewvidal]

prerequisites- w. maximoff

summary: where worlds collide

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: #needthat

minors do not interact

i know you told me not to, but you deserve it. i left something on your porch for this weekend

you open up the text from wanda and can’t help but feel a smile creep onto your face. you two have been texting and calling as much as your schedules allow since valerie’s recital last month.

you two have only had the opportunity to meet up three times since then— each time being for a quick lunch during the work day. the company event that wanda invited you to was on saturday and you had told wanda you were stressing out over what you were going to wear.

wanda, being the sweet woman that she is, told you not to worry about lifting a finger. when she told you this, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat worried— not sure what she meant by that. however, knowing the fact that wanda has yet to make you feel uncomfortable is what brought you the slightest bit of peace.

you get home less than an hour later to a pink rectangular box with a bow on it sitting on your front porch. a small laugh bubbles up and you shake your head slightly in disbelief. you quickly move to unlock the door and open the box.

the first thing you notice is intricate beading and lace as you pull out a black midi length dress from the box. you gape at it for a moment, your heart beating quicker at the thought of her putting thought into getting you this dress.

your phone rings, interrupting your moment. you dig it out of your bag and answer without even looking at the caller ID.

“hi,” wanda says, her voice warm, and you can practically hear her smile through the phone, “did you get my gift?”

you let out a soft laugh and tell her you did, “wanda, you know that you don’t have to buy me these things, right? it looks way too expensive and i hate that i made you spend your money on it,” you pout softly at the idea of wanda going out of her way to even think about spending money on you.

wanda rolls her eyes and twirls a pen in her hand as she sits behind her desk, “nonsense. you didn’t make me do a single thing. you were telling me you were stressing and what kind of a friend would i be if i didn’t at least try to help you out?” a slight grimace covers her face as she calls herself your friend.

truth is, wanda thinks she’s could fall for you. she wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she finds herself thinking about you often. the way you smile when you talk about your niece, the passion and love you have for your career, the way you make her laugh— everything

“still, i can’t accept this gift. you know i don’t like you spending money on me,” you whine softly as you trace the detailing on the dress, “you’ve paid for all the lunches we’ve been on— you never even let me finish offering to pay before you give the waiter your card!”

wanda can hear the whine in your voice and rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “so? i want to pay for you. keep your money so you can spoil your niece, or i’ll spoil her myself.”

you sigh into the phone as she says this— you know she’ll stick to her word about spoiling valerie, “you and that girl love to conspire against me and i hate it. fine, but next time we go out it’s going to be on me.”

you try your best to sound confident and firm, but you know wanda is on the other side of the call trying to hide her snicker.

“okay, whatever you say goes,” you can practically see her teasing smile through the phone as she replies and you can’t stop the feeling of butterflies in your stomach as you listen.

the two of you stay on the call for an hour later, even while wanda is working on her tasks for her company. she goes on to tell you all about how she has to review funding proposals and finalize budget adjustments for a new program she hopes to implement in another school.

you listen to her talk as you prepare your dinner, chiming in when necessary.

“sorry, i’ve been talking at you,” wanda cuts herself off and cringes when she realizes you haven’t said much, “what are you doing?”

wanda tries her best to smooth over and shift the topic back to you. “hush, i love when you tell me about your job. besides, it’s keeping me entertained while i’m making my dinner.”

wanda’s cheeks flush a shade of pink when you tell her that she’s not being bothersome, that you enjoy her company. she goes to respond but is suddenly cut off by a question.

“if i save you a plate, will you come have dinner with me when you get off?”

your body felt cold as soon as you asked that question, almost afraid that wanda would reject the offer. on the other side of the call, wanda was practically jumping for joy at the idea of having dinner with you. a wide grin covered her face and it was almost like wanda had to physically restrict herself from kicking her feet like a lovesick teenager.

she looks at the watch on her wrist and decides she could leave right now if she wanted. after all, she is her own boss.

“if that’s okay with you,” she shyly replies, “i can be at yours in about an hour or maybe less?”

an impossibly large grin covers your face at her reply, “that’s perfect. i can’t wait to see you.”

after you two hang up, the air seems lighter and you both know that the dinner isn’t just a friendly invitation. somehow, you both know that it signifies the potential start of something special.

wanda arrives to your house, true to her word, in less than an hour. she even brought you small bouquet of white roses with a pink bow.

you open the door to wanda standing there with a sheepish grin, a huge contrast to the businesswoman you met last month.

“hi,” her voice low, “i know you said i didn’t need to bring anything, but i didn’t want to come to your house for the first time empty handed. i didn’t want to be rude, especially since—“

wanda rambles and you can’t help but try to hold in a laugh at her nervous demeanor.

“wanda?” you tilt your head slightly with a teasing tone. your lips pursing together in a feeble attempt to contain a laugh.

wanda raises her eyebrows in acknowledgment as she looks at you with a flustered look, “yeah?”

your heart melts at the sight of her clutching the roses and rocking back and forth with an anxious look.

“come inside,” you hold your hand out to her to pull her inside, “your plate is already on the table.”

wanda looks at your outstretched hand, then back up to your eye, almost like she didn’t expect it. she takes your hand and allows you to guide her into your home.

she hands you the flowers with a timid smile, “i wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, so i tried to play it safe with roses.”

wanda looks uneasy and it takes everything in you to not let out a laugh, “thank you, wands. you’re so sweet.”

wanda’s heart beats faster at the sound of the nickname and you calling her sweet. she follows after you as you walk towards the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

the smell of roasted chicken and mashed potato full the air and you can hear wanda’s stomach growl as she stands near you.

that’s what makes you finally break into a fit of laughter. wanda looks at you sheepishly and apologizes softly.

“no, no,” you giggle softly and guide wanda to the table by the waist, “you need to eat, come on.”

wanda’s heart pounds as you lead her with such casual intimacy. she watches you as you walk back with two glasses, her lips curling into a smile as you set one down in front of her while you glance back at her with a playful expression.

“everything smells amazing,” she looks at the food then up to you again, “did you really make this on your own?”

you laugh softly, “what, you think i can’t cook?”

shaking her head and suppressing an apology, “no, i think you can do anything. this just smells amazing— like it came from a restaurant.”

wanda watches you with an amused expression as you playfully roll your eyes at her compliment. you pour the drinks in hopes that the flush on your face will go away— it doesn’t. wanda gazes at you as you busy yourself with making sure she’s taken care of.

as you two eat dinner together, the conversation flows and you two share jokes and memories. wanda begins talking about her childhood as you listen intently and rest your chin in your hand.

wanda’s infectious smile as she talks about her brother, pietro, is something you’re sure you’ll never be able to forget. she tells you all about how he was always a problem child and she always had to cover for him growing up. you find yourself hanging onto every word that comes out of her lips.

“i mean, i love him and all but, geez, that boy had everyone worried when he’d come home with a scrape on his face,” she shakes her head in disbelief as she recounts stories of him as a teen. you can see the love in her eyes as she talks about life before she became who she is today.

you decide to throw caution to the wind and ask something more personal, “do you think your relationship has changed with your family since you became big in the business world?”

wanda’s breath hitches as you ask that. she looks off into space as she thinks over the question, a small sigh coming from her lips.

“yes and no,” she sounds far off as she’s speaks— you almost regret asking such a question, “i miss my family— the dynamic we had, but i’m also a career woman. i’m lucky to be in the position i’m in, and i’m happy i’m able to provide for my family and give back. i see it as a price i had to pay.”

you nod along as wanda speaks, your hand subtly grazing over the back of her hand as she speaks. you aren’t sure if she wants to continue this conversation, but you allow her to take the rein.

after a few more minutes of wanda speaking about her family, she helps you pick up the table. you’re stood at the sink, ready to begin washing dishes before wanda stands next to you with a curious expression.

“what are you doing?” she goes to grab the sponge from your hand before you look at her with a confused look.

“washing the dishes?” wanda almost laughs at your tone, shaking her head at you. she gently pushes you to the side, “let me do it, you cooked our dinner.”

needless to say, you two both stood side by side washing the dishes together— the smile on your faces never leaving.

wanda turns to you after the last dish is dried with a smile, “thank you for tonight. i can’t remember the last time i had a good meal like that, or such great company for that matter.”

wanda watches in amusement as a blush covers your cheeks and you try to distract yourself. your chest tightens and wanda watches as you fold a dish rag.

turning to face her, your eyes trace over her features— something that makes wanda freeze, “you’re always welcome in my home, wanda. i loved having you here.”

her eyes meet yours, something unreadable behind her eyes as you two look at each other.

“i know tomorrow’s event sounds a little intimidating,” she speaks slowly, choosing her words deliberately, “but i’m really grateful you’re coming with me.”

the gentle reminder of tomorrows event causes your stomach to flip. the thought of being back in wanda’s world— the banquets, the attire, the business talk. it’s all out of the norm for you, a complete 180 from the simple night you two just shared together. however, the gentle way that wanda spoke to you brought you some sort of comfort.

“i’ll be okay as long as i’m with you,” you say gently, looking at wanda with a soft expression that made wanda smile.

her words struck you where she’d hoped they would. she nods softly and brushes her fingers against the back of your palm, her warm fingers leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“it’s getting late, i think i should head out. we have a day ahead of us tomorrow.” wanda says, feeling remorseful that she has to end the night.

you nod solemnly as you begin to walk her to your front door. you open the door, the cool air now tracking inside. wanda turns to you, her eyes sweeping over your face as if memorizing your every detail.

“thank you,” her eyes flicker to your lips for a second too long, then back up to your eyes with a teasing smile, “i hope we can do this again.”

you nod softly and agree, watching her as she mentally battles between wanting to say more and leaving home.

“goodnight, wanda,” your voice came out softer than intended, but wanda loved it the gentleness in your tone.

“goodnight,” she gives you a warm look before walking towards her car and driving off. her adoring presence still felt inside your home.

the following day is filled with anxious thoughts and the overwhelming knowledge of knowing your night will be occupied by wanda. you know that she will be by your side the whole night, but knowing you’ll be in her world for a few hours is what causes your stomach to churn.

over the past few weeks, wanda has brought a sense of warmth to your everyday life that you hadn’t known before. her attentiveness and willingness to help you keeps you growing a liking to her more and more.

but tonight feels different— you’ll be crossing over into her world.

you’re seated at your vanity finishing up your makeup as your hair sets in place when you get a call from wanda. your heart beats a bit faster at the contact picture that takes over your lock screen. you’d taken a picture of her sipping her coffee while looking over the rim at you. her eyes twinkled as she made eye contact with you, and her small smile made brought one of your own over your face— even with nerves boiling in your chest.

“hi, wands,” you put the call on speaker as you grab your dress to put on. the black beading on the bodice catches your eye in the light— a reminder of wanda’s thoughtfulness. you still can’t believe wanda went out of her way to get you a dress like this.

“hi, you,” wanda’s warm voice comes through the call and it immediately coaxes a laugh out of you. “i’ll be at yours in about 20 minutes. do you need me to bring you anything?”

wanda is an incredibly thoughtful person and is always checking up on you— and today is no different. she’s sent you a few texts throughout the day sprinkled with reassurance and care.

“no, ma’am,” you say as you put the dress on, allowing yourself to marvel in its entirety and how perfect it fits. “just need you to get here.”

your voice is light and teasing, and you’re sure wanda can hear.

in fact, she can, and it makes her heart skip a beat. her fingers drum on her steering wheel as she prays the red light turns green. all she can think about is getting to you as quickly as possible.

“as you wish,” her voice softer now. “i’ll be there in two seconds.”

you two hang up and soon you’re walking to your front door fully dressed to accompany wanda’s event. on the other side of the door is a fully nervous business woman who can’t stop messing with her hair and blazer while she waits for you to open the door.

when you finally open the door, she looks up quickly and stiffens just a bit, then smiles widely as she takes the sight of you in.

her eyes rake over you as she takes every detail in— the way the dress hugs your body, the subtle curl of your hair, and the glow of your skin.

“hi,” her eyes travel from the dress up to your eyes, her face visibly turning a shade of pink, unable to stop the smile adorning her face, “you look.. wow. the dress is.. perfect. you’re perfect.”

her compliment makes your cheek burn and you can’t help but try to bite back a shy smile. wanda lets out a small laugh as she notices your bashfulness.

“thank you, wanda. you look beautiful.”

you look over the taller woman’s figure, at the way she looks poised in her well tailored suit. “i love you in suits.”

it was meant to just be a friendly compliment, but she way wanda immediately became shy was something you would pay to see again. her nose scrunches gently and she tries her best to not look you in the eye as she thanks you.

for a moment, you two stand there like giddy teenagers until wanda wanda finally clears her throat, offering you her arm with a nervous laugh.

“shall we?”

you nod as you slip your arm through hers. the soft fabric of her blazer rubbing against your skin somehow grounds you as you take in the moment. wanda gazes at you while she guides you into her car, admiring how your smile has yet to leave your face.

you two sit in the car en route to the event, making small conversation in attempts to ease the nerves that the both of you have.

“how’s my girl?” wanda asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. you look over at her with a confused expression, eyebrows scrunched together.

she looks at you with an amused look, “i’m talking about valerie.. you know, the tiny little girl with the same dimples as you? the sweet little four year old?” wanda teases you slightly, letting out a little laugh.

you roll your eyes and softly hit her arm that’s resting on the gear shift. “yes, i know my niece. she’s okay, still the same girly girl you met a month ago.”

wanda nods as you catch her up to speed with your niece— and how she keeps asking for her. in fact, it catches wanda off guard but she loves the idea of the little girl asking to see her again. after all, it gives her an excuse to be around you more often.

pulling the car into the valet area, she looks over at you with a grin. you groan, knowing that it only means trouble.

“let me take you and valerie out on a girls date.” her grin widens as she takes your hand in hers, her thrumb brushing over the top of your hand.

your brows raise, and for a moment you’re stunned into silence. the casual way she said it, like blending herself into your world is something she wouldn’t mind, makes your heart flutter.

“thank about it, okay?” she says with a teasing smirk as she gets out and hands the keys to the valet, “let’s just get through tonight first.”

her hand rests on the small of your back as she guides you into the building, the world moving as you walk in.

it’s overwhelming, the glamour of it all. high ceilings with glittering chandeliers, but the polite hum of conversations enveloping you reminds you you’re not alone in this room. everything feels so polished and poised, you’re not in your element.

wanda walks you around, holding some sort of physical contact with you and introduces you to a few of her colleagues. they are all lovely people who enjoy conversing with you about your line of work and passions. slowly but surely, you’re falling into an gentle rhythm— wanda’s hand on your back reminding you that you’re not alone.

she stays close to you and you cling to the warm comfort she brings— the way she looks at you with a soft smile. her steady and warm voice grounds you as she whispers words of reassurance, making the night seem entirely less daunting.

“you’re doing great,” she whispers into your ear as she squeezes your hip gently. somehow throughout the night, wanda ended up with her arm around your waist.

you manage a small smile as you adjust the straps of your dress while you glance over the room, watching everyone mingle with one another. you swallow hard as you take in the people in their tailored suits and effortless fashion.

wanda notices— of course she does. even with business going on, she’s got an eye on you. you’re her priority tonight. she steps closer to you, her fingers grazing your palm easily, a quiet gesture of reassurance.

“i’ve got you,” wanda whispers lowly so just you can hear, “i’m with you, okay?”

your heart aches at her words, you look up at her with a grin— you’re not alone.

before you can even reply, you’re cut off by a voice.

“well, maximoff, you’ve got… unique taste in company,” the sharp voice cuts through you and you immediately want to retreat.

your stomach drops and you hardly have the chance to even react before wanda instinctively pulls you closer.

her expression sharpens, the teasing and comforting energy you’ve grown so accustomed to immediately fades into something more firm and commanding.

“i would be careful if i were you when it comes to speaking about her.” her voice is laced with edge and sharpness.

the woman blinks, taken aback at wanda’s sudden shift in energy. wanda is known to be a firm but understanding boss, so for her to take on a firm authoritative role catches her off guard. wanda doesn’t give her a chance to recover, her posture straightening, a quiet but undeniable authority radiating from her.

“i’d think twice before making comments like that in my presence,” her voice is even, but firm, “don’t forget who signs your checks.”

the woman’s face pales and she blinks rapidly, muttering an apology, but wanda’s state has them taking a few steps back until they disappear into the crowd.

wanda’s hand finds your waist as she pulls you closer into her, her stern expression melting into something softer as she looks at you. “are you okay?” she’s speaking gently to you, her thumb rubbing against the fabric of your dress.

you nod, your stomach churning at the interaction, “i’m sorry, wanda. i didn’t mean to cause any—“

she shakes her head, interrupting you firmly. “don’t apologize for anything. don’t let anyone here make you feel uncomfortable.”

she leans in slightly, “you’re here because i want you here,” her voice holds a sincerity, “let’s step away for a bit, okay?”

you blindly follow wanda as she leads you with a hand on your waist to a more secluded area of the hall. she’s got you sat on a bench outside on a terrace. the lights on the railings add a sense of whimsy to the otherwise overwhelming evening.

“don’t pay attention to her or anyone else in this room.” wanda says as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. you two have yet to take any further steps towards a romantic relationship, but wanda knows you need to ground yourself with physical touch.

she scans your face as you take in her words, her eyes full of worry. “she doesn’t matter, i promise.”

nodding, almost absentmindedly, as wanda speaks to you with sincerity and patience. “thank you, wanda.”

her lips curve into a faint smile as she takes in the way you look up at her with doe eyes, “always.”

for a moment, she lingers and takes in the moment. in the quiet space between you, you realize that wanda isn’t just with you tonight, she’s standing for you.

wanda hesitates a bit before placing a comforting hand on your thigh, getting your attention. “i just..” she takes in a sharp breath, “i can’t lose.. this.”

her voice is quiet and steady, she doesn’t elaborate on what she means. you look at her face, the way you can see her mentally battling between wanting to say more and wanting to keep something to herself.

your chest tightens as you take in her vulnerability. wanda maximoff, the always composed, is now in front of you with a flicker of uncertainty hiding behind her eyes. your heart aches at how small she looks now.

placing a hand on top of hers, you move to where she can see you clearly, “you won’t, i promise.”

she nods, taking in your reassuring words. you rub your thumb over her knuckles in a way to help steady her, a gesture that’s just as comforting to her as it is to you.

she doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you— but in the space between you two, the air seems heavier and laden with something so precious and fragile.

[spideyanakin]

she doesn't know (s.b)

summary - sirius black x potter! reader, lily and remus realise you're expecting before you

warnings - fluff, mention of pregnancy, remus and lily being menaces

main masterlist

sirius black masterlist

"Darling, your boobs look amazing," Lily gushed grinning at you with a look you were yet to decipher. She brought her attention back to the cup of tea she was making, but not before sharing a complicit glance with Remus.

"Yeah, your boobs look great," Remus chimed in, pouring milk into his tea.

The startled look on your face made Lily laugh with her chest.

"Thank you?" You raised an eyebrow as you watched them both preoccupy themselves with their respective cuppas.

"I told you, she doesn't know," Lily all but whispered as she leaned towards him.

"Know what?" James tumbled into the kitchen, opening the cupboard and grabbing a packet of biscuits. You watched as he opened it and dug through it before offering one to Remus.

"You know this is my kitchen, James."

"What's yours is mine," he replied with his mouth full, offering you the box. You took one suspiciously before leaning back against the counter. "So," he looked back to his wife. "What does my sister not know?"

"Oh, nothing you should worry about, love," she waved her hand and turned back to Remus with a grin that took her entire face.

"Should we be worried?" James leaned closer to you, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no clue, they've been acting weird and conspiring all morning."

"Do you think Sirius knows?" Lily failed to whisper again. Remus shrugged. "Maybe because of like, you know, how you know." Your scowl deepened at the conversation they were openly having in front of you.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I don't know how sharp his senses are as human."

"Will you two tell us what you are talking about!"

They looked at you briefly before turning back to each other, "should we tell her?"

"Yes!" you and James both said in unison, making Lily and Remus jump at the sudden raise of tone.

Remus shook his head and turned to Lily, "no, she shouldn't figure it out that way."

"Figure out what?" James spoke for you, just as curious as you to figure out what in the world these two were conspiring.

Lily was grinning like a mad woman, giggling to Remus who wore a cheeky and composed grin as he brought his tea to his lips.

"Come here," Lily grabbed James's arm before dragging him to the other side of the kitchen. She went on her tiptoes, holding onto your brother's shoulder for support as she whispered in his ear.

"No way!" James shrieked, wide eyes as he looked back at you. "I'm going to be an un-"

"Shh!" the redhead abruptly smashed her hand on James's lips to keep him quiet. "I told you, she doesn't know."

"Merlin's beard!" He squealed happily, clapping his hands and jumping up and down. "Does Sirius know?"

"We don't know."

"Do I know what?" As if on cue, Sirius walked into the kitchen, baby Harry happily bouncing on his hip. He walked over to you, a large smile on his lips as he brought you into a kiss.

"What should I be knowing?" Sirius asked you, gentle and warm voice seeping into your ears like honey. He leaned on the counter next to you, and you melted into his side, looping your arm around his arm that wasn't holding Harry.

James couldn't stop grinning at the sight.

"I don't know!" You huffed, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "They won't tell me!"

"I do love a good marauders secret. Do I already know it?"

"We don't know if you do."

Sirius squinted his eyes at Remus as if he could read his mind and pull the secret out of him by some means of unspoken communication.

Remus seemed to understand, to catch what ever wave length Sirius had sent his way. The werewolf nodded his head, moved his eyes one way, then the other, and nodded again. Sirius replied with a move of his head, and Remus continued with a new subtle movement.

Suddenly, Sirius grinned from ear to ear, not too far from Lily's own.

"You know it’s creepy when you do your mind-reading thing with Remus?"

The arm that wasn't holding onto Harry snaked around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You melted into his embrace with a scowl on your face as you watched the unspoken conversation unfold in front of you.

"Not as creepy as your sibling mind reading with James," Sirius smiled brightly as he pressed a kiss to your hair, looking at you with so much adoration you were left wondering what in the world they were telling each other.

Sirius chuckled in what you knew to be disbelief before turning back to Remus.

"You sure?" He spoke with a smile he couldn't fight off.

"So you know!" Lily jumped up and down, tugging frantically on James's arm.

"Well, I wasn't sure, thought my senses were off, but now that you're confirming it-"

"Holy shit, he knows."

"Knows what!?" You almost screamed, making Sirius chuckle loudly beside you.

"Darling, you're pregnant."

[calisources]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences and quotes have been taken from different media about starcrossed lovers or forbidden love, full of angst, some bold words, some nasty ones, possessive nature and letting someone use you as a replacement. So, some toxic energy in this one. Change pronouns, locations and names as you see fit.

I love you,and I will love you until I die,and if there's a life after that,I'll love you then.

Do people always fall in love with things they can't have?

And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.

I'm falling in love with you.

I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. I have waited for this for such a long time. Consequences be damned.

These violent delights have violent ends.

 I’m only human. And you are …all-consuming.

Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.

I will never let you go, do you hear me? 

 will keep you safe. And I will find a way for us to be together.

If you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.

If you were any less the man you are, I would beg you to take me with you.

If you were any less the woman you were, I would beg you to come with me.

I've known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.

This is lust.

She’s your very own forbidden fruit.

You said you didn't want this.

We all desire what we cannot have.

Have you noticed how the boy looks at you?

Do you think I didn’t notice? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?

You are dangerous desire, and I am your prisoner.

We can’t do this on so many levels.

I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest.

But I would fight against the stars for you.

I have ruined your life.

Some lines you just don't cross. 

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Having something forbidden is exciting, don't you agree?

The closer we get—the more I let you in…the more dangerous this gets.

Don’t you get it? You’re what everyone wants! But I’m not going to let them win.

Make it so I never have to dream about this again—make it so we can have this…forever.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

We were doomed from the start. 

Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man.

But this kiss? It's ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed. 

You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.

Are you scared of me now?

You loved me - then what right had you to leave me?

I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

One moment, you give me everything that I want, and in the next, you snatch all of that away.

It's hopeless. We can never work out.

The world didn’t want us together so I forged a new one where we would.

How could a peacock lust for a lion?

You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.

I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.

It's absurd how crazy love can make you...but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you.

 That you and I are meant to be together, but never meant to be.

Why does fate seem always to conspire against us? To deny us life's simple pleasures?

We'll meet after this war. I'll certainly find you wherever you'll hide. 

War makes fools of men and women wanton.

What offends you most, Father? That she's Catholic, or that she's poor?

If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.

You tempress, I see you once and all I can think of is having you.

Feelings are forbidden, does not mean we cannot enjoy one another.

The more you deny me, the more I desire you. You are a plague in my mind.

Ever since we met, no one else can compare. 

How can I be with someone else, when I’m with them, it’s you I see.

You can have me, think of whoever you love. For tonight.

You can pretend I'm her/him. I don't care. I just want you.

[capquinn]

A Closeness | Q. Hughes

summary: the lake house has never felt smaller. moments alone become something of the past. but after longing touches here and gentle caresses there, quinn seizes an opportunity. pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: fluff, mild smut (v vanilla…….seriously) word count: 3k note: the smut is for sure tame but it still had me blushing lmao enjoy!!! ↪ masterlist

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The off-season had finally arrived and so had summer in Michigan.

Days spent on the water with rosy sunburnt cheeks and friends turned into nights in the garden basking in the glow of a deep orange sunset and warm flickering shadows of the bonfire. Drinks poured and secrets spilled under starry skies that echo with celebrations of the hockey season and despondent mumblings of what it could have been. The conversations oscillate between just the two for the first three nights and then on the fourth night, there is a sense of normalcy. Just a bunch of friends engaged in animated conversations about some silly gossip, voices rising and falling like the rhythm of waves lapping at the shore by the pier. Hockey long forgotten. At least for a little while. 

But even in the midst of his friends, Quinn’s attention is mostly on you. 

So when your laughter punctuates the night air, Quinn turns his head, distracted from his own conversation. You’re standing with Jack by the cooler, nursing the same glass of wine that he had poured you an hour ago, and sharing an inside joke. 

A small smile plays on his lips, and a warm feeling washes over him. You fit into his life seamlessly, and every once in a while, the universe conspires to remind him of just that. 

He excuses himself and falls in place next to you, hand naturally slipping to lay rested on your waist. You lean into him without letting it disrupt the flow of conversation except only when Quinn leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. You pause briefly, glancing up to meet his eyes. Love you too. And then you’re bouncing back into conversation, enjoying the way he traces soothing circles onto bare skin under the hem of your t-shirt. 

That’s how the evening continued. The moments ebb and flow, never going far at all. Returning with small touches here and tender caresses there that nobody seemed to notice… all whispering that he just wanted you near.

That’s when you finally retreat to the edge of the gathering to share a single deck chair. Nestled on his lap, head resting on his shoulder, finding solace in the quiet spaces between words. Fingers trace idle shapes down his arm, and he responds with a kiss to your shoulder. The world fades away around you both; you’re existing within your own reverie. 

But after a while, your glass of something sweet and bubbly now empty, you let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll be back,” you whisper, untangling yourself from his body, clasping an empty wineglass. 

As your feet meet the grass, Quinn is grasping at your free hand to keep you close. 

“Baby,” he whines quietly in a way he only does when he’s buzzed. It’s still early in the evening and you are halfway there yourself. “Where are you going now?” 

“Need more wine,” you giggle quietly, sinking back into him, wrapping an arm around his neck. 

He shakes his head, disapproving of your answer. “Stay with me,” he tells you, arm snaking back around your waist and hand laying firm against your stomach. “It’s the first time they’ve left us alone,” he states, nodding his head towards your guests.

Hosting your friends had been a great idea. And it still is. Sort of. But with so many of them all here at once, you were both already exhausted. Quinn misses the silence and having his own space. Not used to sharing living quarters with fifteen other people after living in an apartment with just you for the last two years. Because with every turn, there’s another familiar face trying to get a piece of you both. To ask how to use the dishwasher or how to use the washing machine. Where’s the TV remote? To chat and hang out during every awake moment of the day. And the damn teasing that never stopped. Small comments here and shared jokes there whenever Quinn tried to show any form of fondness towards you. Friends unused to seeing their buddy engage in public displays of affection. He’s an easy target so he’s the master of his own undoing, really. Blushing and rolling his eyes, and then snapping back with a witty remark in response that did a poor job of hiding his slight embarrassment over being the centre of attention. A man but with all the awkward boyish charm that made his friends howl with laughter every time. Regardless, never did Quinn imagine that you would both be surrounded by this many people at all times. 

A moment passes and then there is a soft murmur, lips brushing against your ear. “Love you so much.”

You turn your head slightly to look at him. Firelight dances in those green eyes, shimmering and intoxicating. And you forget to breathe, enraptured. It doesn’t help matters when he licks his pillowy pink lips. He’s practically begging you to kiss him boldly right here in front of all his friends. But you don’t and instead, the years are thrown back and suddenly you’re both twenty-one again, listening to him confess that he loves you for the very first time right here on this very lawn with those very same loving eyes. 

It had been a lazy summer evening and the house was brimming with the energy of family and fiends, but you had both slipped away to the quiet of the lawn. Sprawled out over a faded plaid picnic rug with the golden glow of a setting sun reflecting over the water. Air warm, filled with the distant chirping of crickets. You had been lying side by side, staring up at emerging stars in silence. Quinn had turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes tender. And then you felt the change in the night air, the way his gaze made your heart start to race. 

He cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now.”

Curiosity piqued, a small smile played on your lips. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

He had taken a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours and the lake as if searching for a bout of courage in the still waters. “I… uh, well, I love you.” The words tumbled out in a rush, awkward and unpolished, and he immediately bit his lip, cheeks reddened. 

You’re snapped back to reality as Quinn lolls his head to the side with a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his sun kissed cheeks. An amused twinkle in his eyes, noting your obvious lovesick gaze. But he can hardly blame you. He often found himself staring at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky. 

There is a soft chuckle and then he’s reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, sending shivers right down your spine. And finally, he’s kissing you. Paying no attention to whether or not his friends are watching, and frankly, at this point, he really doesn’t care if they are. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He mumbles against the corner of your mouth, glancing around to see if you were able to sneak off without anyone noticing. 

It seems likely. Jack is yapping on the other side of the fire, animatedly recounting a story with just enough drama that it’s keeping most of the group entertained, and off to your side, a seperate group of friends are bickering competitively over a card game. 

In silent understanding, you untangle yourselves and discard the empty beverages on the grass beside the deck chair, and with practiced ease, you slip away from the group. Departure unnoticed. 

Thank God, Quinn thinks to himself, intertwining your hands as you cross the lawn towards the lake house looming ahead. He’s not sure how much longer he could have feigned interest in the party. He loves his buddies, don’t get him wrong, but at this point, he’d do anything for just five minutes alone. 

When the sounds of the party fade and your giggles mingle with the chirping of crickets and rustling of leaves in trees, it becomes Quinn’s very own private symphony. He can’t resist pulling you close, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

“Been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says, voice low and husky, velvety against your skin.

You smile against his lips. “I thought we were just getting away from the mosquitoes,” you tease. 

“Well, that too,” he grins. Quinn pecks a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “But mostly ‘cause I’m sick of sharing you with everyone else.”

All week long every corner of this house has been occupied. Every room, every spare sofa. The deck chairs during the morning, and the sun loungers on the pier during the afternoon. The kitchen brimmed with life at all hours of the day with friends cooking, eating and talking late into the night, and it was becoming a battle for bathroom privileges, too. Even his favourite spot in the hammock was taken up by somebody new at every sunset. 

The house has never felt smaller. 

And then you’re stumbling down the hallway in that very same house, kisses growing more urgent and heated in a way that makes it difficult to move forward.

Hands roaming over each other’s bodies like you’re mapping territory. And there’s strength in Quinn’s embrace. The controlled power that made you feel safe and cherished all the same. 

You barely make it through the bedroom door, lips never parting. His fingers fumble with the lock before you’re even inside and then it’s swinging shut behind you with a thud.

“Finally,” Quinn mutters against your skin.

“We’ve got to be quick, okay?” You tell him. It wouldn’t be long until the fire turns to hot coals and your friends decide to call it a night. He only hums in response. “Quinn, I’m serious.”

He grins into the kiss. “Okay. I promise.”

You tug Quinn’s tee over his head and press palms against his back, feeling every dip and curve of his roping muscles. You lean in closer, chest flush with his. 

Quinn slowly moves his mouth across your cheek…along your jaw…moving lower, grazing against sensitive skin right over your pulse point. 

“Oh,” you gasp, melting into his body, and hands finding their way into his hair.

Fingers drop down your sides, gripping greedily at the material of your sweater and he pushes it up enough so he can make a start on unbuttoning your shorts. Before he even has a chance to remove the garment himself, you’re clutching hastily at the sweater, which is really just Quinn’s that he had given up trying to get back, and pull it from your frame. 

He stands back for a brief moment once you’re almost undressed, taking you all in. He thinks you’re so… so…

“So pretty,” he murmurs, pulling you in to meet your lips again. 

He steps back, dragging you with him, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he’s sinking down into the softness. You’re standing between his knees, clutching onto him for dear life. Afraid you’ll topple over if he ever lets you go. Dizzy with anticipation.

He presses an open mouth kiss to your sternum…a few more around your belly… and then he’s making his way back up to your chest to give the swell of your breasts some attention. 

Your arms wrap around Quinn’s neck, head lolling back as the goose bumps raise across your skin.

“Your shorts…” you choke out, trying to hurry things along despite every fibre of your being eager to keep this going deep into the night. 

He drops his hands to the waistband of his shorts and peels it from his skin, and then he starts tugging at the waistband of your panties, dropping spongy kisses to your waist as the cotton slackens and falls to the floor. 

And when they do, you’re rushing to fill the space between you and straddle his hips. Lips meet in soft collision; slow and deliberate, but it’s desperate all the same. Warm hands trace the curve of your back, coaxing quiet moans to fall from your lips when your hips start rocking into him. Quinn relaxes into the mattress some more and in quick succession, you’re suddenly on your back and he’s between your thighs, mouth pressed against yours, hot and frantic. Chest to chest. Hips moving in long, drawn out strokes.

And then your lips are parting slightly, long enough for him to say, “fuck, I’ve missed this,” each second stretching to an eternity.

You pat his back when he starts to scatter kisses below your ear, thrusts slowing to a halt, trying to hurry him along. There is nothing you want less than to face your friends in the morning if they happen to hear any of this. “Quinn,” you whisper, a plea and reprimand all in one. “They’ll be back soon.”

Lips travel along your jaw and down your neck again, and your hands tangle through his hair, pulling him closer even as you try to remind him of reality. But reality feels far away. Banished by the heat that is building in this moonlit bedroom. 

Hands run down your side and dig into your waist before hitching one of your legs over his hip, and he rolls into your body deliberately slow. Again and again. Eliciting sweet sound after sweet sound from your pretty little mouth, hot breath against his neck, and it’s driving him wild. 

He shivers. The feeling of you beneath him, body arching into his touch. It’s intoxicating. He just wants to lose himself in this moment and forget everything else. To etch it into memory. Every second, every heartbeat. Warm skin and quiet moans. The smell of your shampoo with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. It fuses together into a heady mix which makes it hard to think or care about anything else.

But you won’t let him forget where you are.

You push his hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek, bringing his face up from your neck, eyes locking for a heartbeat before you kiss him. “I really hate to rush this but—” you start to say, lips lingering over his.

“Then don’t,” he mutters, cutting you short. He runs a hand up and down your torso before pinning your body to the mattress with a hand on your waist. He grinds into you again, still deliciously slow. Savouring it. And if you didn’t know any better, he’s teasing you.

And then he sits up so he’s kneeling between your thighs, and your legs fall around him. He rubs his shoulder with his chin, trying to hide a smirk but it’s there despite his efforts. “Why are you thinking about them anyway? Should be thinking about me,” he tells you, hips grinding into yours, abs clenching. 

You bite back a grin, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip. “Trust me, I am thinking about you. But if our friends come back and hear us, I’ll be thinking about murder.”

A chuckle vibrates through Quinn’s chest. “Fair point,” he concedes, leaning over you so your chests are flush. Lips finds yours again, demanding your attention.

With the snapping of his hips, rhythm quickening, you give it to him. Stars blurring your vision. Hands roaming fevered skin, tracing the contours of his body with a reverence of desperation. Ache bubbling under your skin. Breaths coming out in ragged gasps. 

“Quinn,” you say through gritted teeth between a moan, nails scraping down his back, overcome with a storm of sensations. The friction. The pressure. It’s all too much. 

It spurs him on. Driving him to the edge of sanity and back again, chasing the elusive promise of release. And you’re no different. Clasping at the sheets, struggling to hold on. His movements grow more frantic with each passing second. The short, sharp whimpers you’re letting fall from your lips push him back to the precipice. 

He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle, and suddenly hits a spot so divine that you’re unable to spare a word. The stars behind your eyes becoming more vivid as you surrender to the ecstasy that pulses between you both, a tempest that rages unchecked in the darkness. Through the haze, you hear the telltale sound of heavy footsteps on the patio, signalling the return of your friends.

“We’re gonna get caught,” you gasp, very much aware that you’re stating the obvious, panicked. Nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders, urging him on even as you try to anchor him to reality. 

Quinn's breath hitches, a low, guttural moan escaping as he teeters on the brink. "Baby, I'm—," his voice breaks. Deep and throaty moans reverberate through you, skin to skin, chest to chest. A plea for something that hovers just out of reach. “Almost there. Just a little more,” he whispers into your ear, voice a low and soothing murmur despite the urgency in his tone. 

The world around you blurs. 

Quinn’s breathing hitches again and he shudders, thrusts stuttering, and it’s the final push you need. His pleasure your catalyst. And with one last final desperate roll into your body, the coil of tension snaps and a wave of ecstasy washes over you both. 

Starlight swapping for solar flares. 

“Baby,” he whines and you wonder if he knows that he’s only making it harder for you to stay quiet.

The room spins. Eyes stinging. Mind blanking. Toes curling. Your fingers grasp at his hair, knuckles white. His head tucked into the crook of your neck, mouth pressed against your skin. Trying your damn hardest to keep your voices low but it’s hard. It’s raw. His teeth scrape over your throat as he grinds his jaw, groaning deeply. The waves keep crashing until it dissolves into nothing but heaving chests. His breath, your exhale. 

There’s low murmurs in the hallway on the other side of the bedroom door. Footsteps shuffle on hardwood floors and then there are more heavy footsteps as whoever it is begins climbing the stairs.

“You promised we’d be quick,” you remind him, touching lips to the corner of his parted mouth.

Quinn chuckles softly, a playful glint in his eyes. He kisses you breathlessly, and then rolls off of you, crashing into the pillows. “That was quick,” he defends, feigning innocence. 

[moomuzan]

— 𝖎 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖓

reader is suffering from depression , chuuya , kunikida , akutagawa , atsushi , dazai x gn! reader , implied suicide , angst , (is this any good?) , requested

It began softly, as all tragedies do, with a change so slight no one could see it but you. The world, once vast and full of light, began to shrink. Rooms became smaller, days shorter. Colors faded into muted shades of themselves, until even the sky—once so infinite and forgiving—felt like nothing more than a ceiling, pressing down with slow inevitability.

What began as exhaustion became detachment, and detachment turned into something darker. You could feel it in your bones, in the heaviness of your limbs when you tried to rise in the morning, as though every part of you conspired to keep you still, to keep you sinking. You watched your reflection one day and didn’t recognize it—eyes sunken, cheeks hollow, lips pressed into a line so thin it looked almost like defeat. You were unraveling thread by thread, and no one noticed because unraveling happens quietly, invisibly.

At first, you tried to hide it, pulling up smiles like threadbare curtains to block out the truth. They believed you because they wanted to, because seeing you fade would mean they had to act, and no one knew how.

No one truly understands how heavy the absence of light can be.

KUNIKIDA

He noticed first, though he didn’t understand what it was he was seeing. He believed in systems, in cause and effect, in logic. You were a puzzle that no longer fit together properly, pieces shifting in ways that defied his understanding. You were late to work, distracted, your handwriting sloppier, your presence a dim echo of what it once was.

“Something’s wrong,” he said one day, his voice calm but firm, the way a man might speak when trying to steady a crumbling wall.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your voice flat, practiced, already exhausted by the question.

Kunikida was not a man who accepted half-measures, but when you looked at him—really looked at him—he felt something unnameable twist in his chest. Your eyes were empty, hollowed out like the windows of an abandoned house.

He wanted to do something. He wanted to fix you, as though you were an equation that simply needed balance. But he didn’t know how to solve a problem he couldn’t define. And so he stood there, watching you drift further away, until one day there was nothing left to watch at all.

When the news came, Kunikida sat at his desk long after the Agency had emptied, staring down at his pristine notebook. He wrote your name on the first page, perfectly centered. It was a gesture of order, of trying to place you somewhere where you could still exist. But the ink blurred as tears splashed down onto the paper, and he realized, with bitter clarity, that there are some things even principles cannot save.

“I should have known,” he whispered to the empty room, but the silence only answered him with its weight.

AKUTAGAWA

He was not soft, and he did not believe in softness. The world had never been gentle to him, and so he did not know how to be gentle in return. When he saw you pulling away, he took it as betrayal, as though your silence was a judgment against him, an accusation.

“You’re hiding something,” he told you, his voice sharp as broken glass. “Tell me what it is.”

You turned your face away, a hollow laugh escaping your lips—more air than sound. “It doesn’t matter, Akutagawa.”

The words angered him. How could it not matter? How could you—someone who had once seen him as more than just a weapon—act as though none of it mattered? His frustration festered into rage, a futile, desperate kind of rage that he turned on himself the moment you were gone.

When he stood at your grave, the wind whipping around him like a cruel whisper, his fists were clenched so tightly his nails bit into his skin. He didn’t cry; he didn’t know how. Instead, he stood there, silent and still, the words he could never say burning in his throat.

“I should have stopped you. I should have made you listen.”

But no one listens to a blade when it tries to be a hand.

ATSUSHI

Atsushi saw you fading in the same way he had once faded—slowly, as though the light inside you was being siphoned away piece by piece. He tried to reach you, his voice soft, his hands always hesitant.

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he told you one evening, his tone so careful, so earnest it almost hurt to hear.

You looked at him then, and there was something in your expression—something deep and weary and ancient—that made his heart ache. “It’s not something you can carry for me, Atsushi.”

“But I can try,” he whispered.

You smiled faintly, the corners of your mouth twitching upward in something that wasn’t joy but obligation. And then you turned away, leaving him with the quiet knowledge that you were slipping through his fingers like sand.

When you were gone, Atsushi sat by the river, the same river you had once watched with him. His tears fell freely, and he sobbed into the crook of his arm, his cries drowned out by the endless flow of water.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” he choked out, but the river, indifferent and eternal, offered no answers.

CHUUYA

He had never been good at subtlety. He saw you unraveling, and he tried to pull you back with both hands, as though sheer force of will could save you.

“Talk to me!” he shouted one night, his voice hoarse with anger and desperation. “Tell me what the hell is going on!”

“There’s nothing to say, Chuuya,” you said softly, your tone so quiet it seemed to shrink the room.

And in that moment, he hated you a little—for giving up, for shutting him out, for refusing to let him save you. But beneath the anger was fear, a deep and cloying fear that he didn’t know how to name.

When you were gone, Chuuya didn’t drink to forget. He drank to remember. He sat in the bar you once loved, a glass of whiskey untouched in front of him, and replayed every conversation, every silence, every moment he had failed you.

“I would’ve fought for you,” he muttered into the empty glass. “I would’ve done anything.”

But there was nothing left to fight for.

DAZAI

Dazai knew from the start. He saw the quiet unraveling in your movements, in your voice, in the way you stared out windows like you were already gone. He watched you with a gaze that was too knowing, too familiar, because he understood what you were feeling. He knew what it was to exist in a world that felt too heavy, too dark, too much.

“Don’t do this,” he said one night, his voice soft as the shadows. “You don’t have to go where I’ve been.”

You looked at him then, your eyes full of a sadness too vast to carry. “Maybe I’m already there, Dazai.”

When you were gone, Dazai stood at the edge of a rooftop, staring down at the world below. The wind tugged at his coat, his hair, whispering the same familiar temptation. But he didn’t move. Instead, he laughed—a soft, bitter sound that was more breath than voice.

“Of course you’d leave me like this,” he murmured to the stars. “But I suppose we always knew you would.”

And so he stayed, carrying the weight of your absence like an old, familiar ghost.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Don't mind me, just jumping into your asks. 😄

I had an idea/prompt for you! (Obviously you don't have to write it.) OT8 x fem is preferred but please, go nuts!! Thank you!!

*p.s. I am addicted to your writing works. I can't wait to see what you come up with!*

"His/their arms did what her sleeping pills couldn't."

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕝

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Have you been sleeping?" Felix asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the kitchen. They were enjoying an afternoon snack that Leeknow had prepared for them after classes—a simple spread of sandwiches and fruit, but it felt warm and cozy.

Y/N sighed, taking a slow bite of the sandwich she was holding. If it weren’t for Lee Know insisting she eat something, she would probably be passed out from exhaustion by now. The weight of late-night studying and looming deadlines pressed down on her.

"Yes, I have. Just a lot of studying to do," she lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Hm? Are you sure?" Felix pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew her too well to buy into her facade.

"Yes, Felix, now drop it," she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Felix's face fell, and he pouted, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable way that always made her heart soften.

"I was just asking. I didn’t mean to upset you—"

"Well, you are, so just leave me alone," she retorted, frustration spilling over. She knew she wasn’t angry at him; it was just that the exhaustion and irritability were clouding her thoughts. She hated taking it out on him.

"Fine," he replied, his expression clouding over as he frowned again. He stood up slowly, taking his plate with him, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

As he left, Y/N felt a pang of guilt settle in her stomach. She knew she needed to let him in, but right now, the weight of her fatigue felt like too much to bear.

She let out another frustrated sigh before putting away her empty plate and trudging toward her room, but she was soon interrupted by Seungmin, who playfully pulled her to the couch.

"Can you just listen to this?" he pleaded, handing her an AirPod. She sighed again, knowing she had just snapped at Felix and didn’t want to take her frustration out on anyone else.

"Y/N?" Seungmin called, snapping her out of her thoughts. She realized she had totally zoned out and barely heard the demo of the song he was working on.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

A pang of guilt washed over her, but she decided to lie again. "Yes, I did. It's amazing, Seungmin," she replied with a strained smile, handing him back the AirPod.

"That’s it?" he asked, looking confused. "Usually, you give me more details on where I can improve," he pouted, crossing his arms.

"W-well, maybe it’s just perfect, okay? Can we do this later, Seungmin? I promise I'll give you my full attention," Y/N begged. Her body ached, her head thumped like a bass drum, and her eyes felt like they were on fire. She could hardly keep herself upright.

"Are you sick? You look awful," Seungmin remarked, reaching out to check her forehead.

"Geez! Thanks. Means a lot," she grumbled, snatching her backpack and turning to leave.

"That's not what I meant—Y/N—wait!" But she was already in the hallway, refusing to look back.

It was as if the universe conspired against her because just as she was about to walk into her room, she was unexpectedly pulled into Hyunjin’s room.

"There you are! My favorite girl!" Hyunjin beamed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "How was school?"

Horrible. Disgusting. Tiring. Frustrating.

"Good," she replied flatly, forcing a smile.

"Great! So can I borrow you for tonight?" he asked, spinning her around and playfully carrying her toward the bed.

"Hyunjin..." she sighed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I really wish we could go to the gallery, but I'm swamped with studying and—"

"Hey, baby!" Changbin interrupted, bursting into the room. "I was looking for you. Sorry to interrupt, but are we still on for the gym in 30?" His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She had totally forgotten!

Why does everyone want something from me today? she thought, feeling overwhelmed.

"Binnie..." she sighed again, tears welling in her eyes.

"God, I’m the worst girlfriend ever!" she huffed, her emotions boiling over. Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of the room and rushed to her own, knowing better than to lock it—Chan’s rules, after all.

She decided to lock her door and take a breather from everything. It wasn’t long before Changbin and Hyunjin knocked, but there was no response.

"Do you know what’s going on?" Changbin whispered to Hyunjin, concern on his face.

"No idea… maybe we should give her some space?" Hyunjin suggested, though neither wanted to leave her alone. They knew how she could shut down during tough times.

"I'll text Leeknow," Changbin decided, and they headed to the living room.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt overwhelmed. The pressure of school and her relationships weighed heavily on her. She tried to take a nap to recharge for the evening with her boyfriends, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind raced with thoughts of assignments, exams, and the expectations she felt from everyone around her.

"Forget this..." she whispered, pushing herself up and deciding to study instead. She shuffled to her desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. Despite her exhaustion and the tears threatening to spill, she forced herself to focus on the pages in front of her.

Time slipped away, and she lost track of how long she had been studying when a loud knock startled her. "Y/N? You know I don’t like it when people lock doors," Chan called from outside, his voice a mix of concern and gentle authority.

It was 8:57, and she rubbed her eyes before reluctantly unlocking the door.

There stood Chan, looking concerned. Was he going to scold her?

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, stepping inside.

She managed a small smile as he wrapped her in a warm hug. It felt so comforting that it made her wonder why she had been short with those she cared about. The weight of the world seemed to lift for a moment as she leaned into him.

"Channie... I’m so tired," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I know baby, shhh, it’s okay," he soothed, laying them both on the bed. He glanced around the room, noticing scattered books and an almost empty container of sleeping pills.

"Having trouble sleeping again?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"Mmhm," she sniffled.

"How long?" he continued, rubbing her back gently.

"Eight days..." she admitted, feeling shame wash over her.

"Eight days?!" he exclaimed, shocked that she was even functioning.

"I was going to tell one of you, but we’re all stressed with exams, and you have your comeback soon. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it," she cried, her voice breaking.

Chan let out a frustrated sigh. He cared deeply; that much was clear.

"What did I say about thinking for others?" he gently scolded. "What if I wasn’t busy? You can’t decide for me or the others when we’re available. Eight days isn’t healthy, and if I tell Leeknow, he’ll worry."

She lets out a whimper as the memory of how the last visit went. She had to be hooked up to many machines and monitors each monitoring her sleeping and to see what was wrong. She was exhausted for 12 hours straight in the hospital. "I’m sorry, please don’t tell him."

"Only if you promise to come to me whenever you’re struggling, okay?" he said, kissing her forehead and picking up the nearly empty container of pills. "How many have you taken? Are they not working?"

"It doesn’t work," she admitted, burying her head into his shoulder, feeling ashamed. "I tried taking three each night—"

"Three?! No way, Y/N, that’s not good for you, Please tell me you don’t feel sick."

"I don’t; I just feel cranky."

"Is that why you snapped at Felix?" he asked gently.

"Y-yeah. I should apologize to him," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"Hey, look at me," he said softly, kissing her cheek. "I know it gets tiring, but you have to communicate, okay? Wash up, and we can watch a movie downstairs. The boys are worried. Han's about to lose it. He's about to escape the restraints Leeknow put on him."

"Oh no," she giggled for the first time in a while. "Not time out!"

"I missed that smile," he said gripping at her waist.

"I thought I had to wash up?" she teased, feeling a bit lighter.

"Yah! Is it wrong to love my girlfriend? I already have to share you with those 7 idiots, Let me enjoy this," Chan said dramatically, pulling her close. He let her straddle his lap and both their core's lightly touched one another.

Another giggle escaped her lips as she leaned in for a quick kiss, feeling warmth spread through her despite her lingering exhaustion.

It did indeed take her longer to enter the shower, mainly because Chan was so committed to making her feel good. Basically she got the best head of her life. When she finally made her way downstairs to the theater, she was immediately tackled by Han, who showered her with kisses.

"I'm so sorry I didn't notice you felt this way! I should have paid more attention. I love you. Do you love me?" he exclaimed, his voice full of concern and affection.

"I love you, Han, and it isn’t your fault. I promise, bub," she replied, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Changbin, who was nearby, chimed in, "I’m sorry for pushing you earlier, babe," as he handed her a takeout plate, realizing Han wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

"You don’t need to apologize, love. I should be the one apologizing for not communicating and just shutting down. I hope you all can forgive me; I haven’t been the best partner," she confessed, her voice a bit shaky.

"Oh hush!" Hyunjin interjected with a warm smile before giving her a kiss on the forehead and heading to his seat. "No need to apologize; we all have our moments."

"Yeah, he’s right. Totally forgotten," Seungmin added, snuggling into Hyunjin's side, a comfortable warmth radiating between them.

She turned to Felix, her heart racing a bit as she hoped he wasn’t angry. "Lix?"

"I could never be mad at you," he said softly, climbing by her side and planting gentle kisses on her cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, feeling her heart swell with gratitude.

The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted conversations and a movie. Everyone eventually drifted off to sleep, and she felt a profound sense of peace wash over her.

"Come on," Chan whispered, gently pulling her out of I.N and Han's grip. They let out little whines but soon settled back into slumber. She crawled onto Chan's lap, and he whispered soothing words to her while rubbing her back.

"Remember to always find me when your lost."

This was her happy place. As her eyes began to close and her breathing evened out, Chan placed a tender kiss on her forehead and held her close, ready to keep her safe until she woke up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @idoubleswearimawriter!!

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@mbioooo0000

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[moonlight-joy]

Prey in the Shadows

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: This intense tale of cat-and-mouse explores the thrill of fear and the balance of power between hunter and prey. Sergei’s relentless pursuit forces you to confront your own instincts and vulnerabilities, blending danger, trust, and the electric tension of his presence. As his lessons unfold, you’re left questioning whether this is a punishment, a game, or a deeper test of loyalty.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The streets are eerily quiet as you begin your walk home, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows. The cold night air nips at your skin, but what truly sends a chill down your spine is the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You can almost hear Sergei’s voice in your mind, low and laced with authority: "You should never break your promises, my prey."

The world around you sharpens—the rustling of leaves, the soft crunch of your footsteps, the distant hum of a car engine. Sergei’s training, his relentless hunting instincts, come flooding to mind. You know how he moves, silent and precise, like a ghost through the night. Every fiber of your being tells you to run, but to run would be to play directly into his game.

A twig snaps behind you. You whirl around, heart pounding, only to find empty darkness. Panic sets in as you realize Sergei is toying with you, allowing you to feel the vulnerability of prey in his sights.

“Keep moving,” his voice growls, deep and resonant, from somewhere in the shadows. “Let’s see if you can make it home.”

You force your legs to move, each step a battle against the icy grip of fear. You keep your eyes on the path ahead, scanning for any sign of movement, but Sergei is nowhere to be seen. A flicker of motion catches your eye—a shadow too fast to be anything but him. The streetlights above flicker as though they’re conspiring with him, casting fleeting glimpses of his presence.

“You can’t win this,” his voice whispers, closer now, impossibly close. “But you can try.”

Adrenaline surges through your veins. Against your better judgment, you start to run. The world blurs as you dash through the dark streets, your breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Every step echoes like a drumbeat, announcing your location to your pursuer.

And then, silence.

The absence of his voice, his steps, his presence is even more terrifying. You skid to a halt, heart hammering in your chest, and realize you’re no longer sure of the way home. The streetlights around you flicker and go dark, one by one, until you’re enveloped in shadow.

Then you hear it—soft, deliberate footsteps, circling you like a predator closing in on its prey.

“Lesson one,” Sergei’s voice growls, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Never let your guard down.”

You spin wildly, trying to locate him, but the darkness is absolute. A metallic scrape cuts through the silence, sharp and jarring, ahead of you. It sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, something flies past you—a blur—and crashes into a lamppost. The bulb explodes in a shower of sparks, plunging the street into deeper darkness.

“Lesson two,” Sergei murmurs, closer now. “Always know your surroundings.”

Your mind races, a cacophony of fear and Sergei’s relentless teachings. You move slowly, fighting every instinct to run, until his voice pierces through again, sharper and more commanding. “Run.”

You bolt. Your legs burn, your breath tears from your lungs, and the world narrows to the path ahead. But no matter how fast you go, you feel him closing in, his shadow stretching long and unrelenting behind you. You glance over your shoulder, and in that instant, you see him—tall, composed, and in complete control.

Sergei steps forward, blocking your path, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. His voice is calm but carries the weight of finality. “Lesson three. You can’t escape me.”

You freeze, every muscle locking in place as he approaches, his presence overwhelming. He grips your arm, firm but not cruel, and leans in, his voice a low whisper. “Do you understand now? Why you don’t walk alone? Why you don’t break your promises?”

You nod, unable to speak, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Sergei steps back, his gaze still fixed on you as he gestures toward the path. “Go. If you make it home without me catching you, we’ll call it even.”

For a moment, you don’t move, paralyzed by fear and the weight of his words. But then his eyes narrow, and his voice sharpens. “Run.”

You don’t wait to be told again. You sprint into the darkness, Sergei’s laughter trailing behind you, the game far from over.

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[ikkyfics]

Heart in storm

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: "You did it on purpose. You couldn't bear me making plans with someone else, could you? You couldn't let me—" He cut you off. "No! I couldn't bear it because… because it wasn't me."

Warnings: kisses in the rain, adorably jealous James and cute declarations of love

Masterlist

The rain started as a whisper, timid but promising more. You felt the first cold drops mix with the warmth still lingering on your skin, a reminder of the frustration simmering since James Potter ruined your date. Your steps echoed softly against the wet stone path, your heart tight with disappointment. You were returning from the greenhouse, where you'd failed to find solace among the enchanted plants.

But peace was elusive. Only a pair of blue eyes seemed to follow you everywhere, no matter how far you tried to run.

"Hey!" His voice broke the quiet, heavy with an urgency you didn’t want to acknowledge. He stood there, in the rain that had started to fall harder now, his dark hair already wet and messier than usual, his glasses speckled with stubborn droplets.

You stopped, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. You refused to yield to that gaze that always seemed to strip you of your defenses. "What do you want, James?"

"I want you to listen to me," he said, his tone laced with a desperation that made your chest tighten. "I can’t just leave things like this."

"Like what, Potter?" you shot back, your voice sharp with irritation and something else you couldn’t quite name. You kept your eyes on the ground ahead, arms crossed in an invisible shield. "Like someone whose one moment of peace this week was completely ruined?"

He stepped closer, and you could hear the sound of his sneakers against the wet ground. "I—" He hesitated, as if the words were a barrier he couldn't breach. "I made a mistake. I know that."

"It was more than a mistake, James!" You finally turned, rain now streaking down your face. "You did it on purpose. You couldn’t stand that I made plans with someone else, could you? You couldn’t let me—"

"No!" he interrupted, the word almost a shout before his voice softened, rough and raw. "I couldn’t stand it because… because it wasn’t with me."

The weight of his confession stole the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He took another step closer, and now the distance between you was barely more than a whisper. The rain had become a curtain, but you could see every detail: his intense blue eyes, the way he ran a hand through his hair, nervously tousling the already chaotic mess.

"I ruined it because I couldn’t bear to see you with someone else," he admitted, his voice low, almost pleading. "And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re all I want. That every time you laugh, or look at me, or make me feel like the world isn’t such a complicated place… I lose myself."

Your heart raced now, but not from anger. "And you thought destroying everything was the best way to show me that?"

"No," he said, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. "I’m an idiot. A complete idiot." He lifted his hand, hesitant, stopping just shy of your face, as though he didn’t know if he had the right to go further. "But you know me. You know I’d do anything to fix this. To fix… us."

You stared at him, your eyes locked onto his. Even with the rain carving paths down his face, softening sharp lines and revealing a rare vulnerability, his blue eyes burned with intensity. His firm jaw quivered slightly, a sign of his battle to keep his emotions in check. And his dark hair, always rebelliously untamed, now clung to his forehead, as if the storm was conspiring with the chaos inside James Potter.

"You think it’s that simple?" you challenged, your voice low but cutting. "You think you can just apologize and everything will be fine?"

James tilted his head, a raindrop sliding down the bridge of his nose. He didn’t break eye contact, and the sincerity in those bright blue irises made your stomach twist. "I don’t think it’s simple. I just think I can’t stand the idea of losing you. Not to someone else. Not when it’s you."

Your throat tightened under the weight of his words. Your gaze flickered to his lips, and for a moment too long, you lingered on their soft, firm shape. The air between you felt as charged as the muscles in James, who seemed to be holding his breath for whatever you might say next.

"You’re impossible, Potter," you said, trying to sound indifferent, but your voice wavered. "You dragged me into this, and now what? You expect me to pretend I didn’t feel anything every time you—" The words caught in your throat. What you wanted to say felt too vulnerable.

"Every time I what?" He stepped closer, and now there wasn’t enough space between you to deny the tension crackling in the air. "Tell me, because I can’t stop thinking about it."

You bit your lower lip, feeling his gaze drop to the movement, and it set your skin ablaze. "Every time you look at me like that," you finally admitted, your voice trembling with honesty. "Like I’m the only person who matters in the world. Like every kiss… is a promise."

A shadow of a smile touched the corner of his lips, filled with something deeper than amusement. "Isn’t it?"

The rain grew heavier, dripping from his hair and smudging his glasses further. James pulled them off, trying to clean them with the edge of his shirt before sighing in defeat. You let out a soft laugh, low and short, before teasing, "Without your glasses, you won’t even see the smile I just gave you."

He looked up then, his blue eyes, unshielded by the usual frames, piercing and disarming. "Maybe I can’t see it," he said, his voice huskier now, "but I can feel it." And with that, he leaned in.

The kiss came like the storm, sudden and overwhelming. His hands cradled your face with a determination that made your heart stutter, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your rain-slick skin. His lips met yours, warm against the chill around you, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your mouth. He noticed. He always noticed.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with the rain still falling. "I felt it," he murmured, a lazy, charming smile playing on his lips.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you tugged him closer by the damp collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. "And I felt everything," you whispered before kissing him again, as though the storm raging around you was merely the prelude to something far greater than words could ever capture.

[0omillo0]

FELIX X READER ;༊๋࣭ fluff ; comfort

request from @jeonginsleftcheek (love your works btw tysm for the request ♡ )

a/n: HI GUYS IVE GOT MY TICKETS FOR THE DOMINATE TOUR IM SO EXCITED!!

It had been one of those days—the kind where the weight of everything felt unbearable, like the world had conspired against you. From the moment you woke up, nothing had gone right. Work was overwhelming, people were impatient, and even the smallest things seemed to fall apart in your hands. By the time you finally walked through the door to your apartment, the tears you had fought so hard to keep at bay spilled freely, slipping down your cheeks in silent streams.

You leaned heavily against the door, closing your eyes as the exhaustion overtook you. The quiet of your home was supposed to feel like relief, but tonight it only felt heavy, empty.

“Y/N?”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the sound of Felix’s familiar voice. You hadn’t even noticed him sitting on your couch, his long legs tucked under a throw blanket, a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. His soft brown eyes widened when he saw your face, his expression shifting from surprise to deep concern in an instant. He stood quickly, taking a tentative step toward you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” His voice was gentle but full of worry, the kind of tone that made you want to crumble entirely.

You quickly wiped at your tears, trying to pull yourself together. “Lix… Hey. I didn’t know you were here.” You tried to force a smile, but it wavered. “It’s nothing, really. I just… had a bad day.”

Felix’s brows knit together as he studied your face. “Nothing doesn’t make you cry like this.” He took another step closer, careful not to overwhelm you. “Come here,” he murmured softly, opening his arms.

You hesitated for only a second before collapsing into his embrace. Felix wrapped you up tightly, his arms firm and protective as he pulled you against his chest. His sweater smelled faintly of vanilla and something warm and earthy, and the familiarity of it made your tears flow harder. You buried your face in his shoulder, your sobs muffled against the soft fabric as he held you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging in your heart. “I’m here. Let it out.”

And you did. You cried until your shoulders stopped shaking, until the ache in your chest started to feel a little less overwhelming. Felix didn’t let go, not once, his hands rubbing slow, calming circles on your back as he murmured quiet reassurances.

Eventually, when the tears had slowed to a stop, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the last traces of wetness. “Come sit down with me,” he said gently, guiding you to the couch.

He settled you beside him, tucking the blanket over your lap before draping his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close. You leaned into him, letting your head rest against his chest as his fingers absently played with the ends of your hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly after a moment.

You sighed, unsure where to even begin. “It was just… everything. Work was stressful, and people were rude, and I just felt… I don’t know. Like nothing I did today was good enough.”

Felix’s arm tightened around you slightly, a protective gesture. “Y/N… I hate that you had to deal with all that today. None of it’s fair. You’re so amazing—whether it’s at work or just… being you. And if other people can’t see that, that’s on them, not you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, a fresh wave of emotion rising in your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his presence soothe you.

“Thank you, Lix,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation, his tone so sincere it made your heart ache. “I’ll always be here for you.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the only sounds the soft hum of Felix’s breathing and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. His hand moved to gently rub your arm, his touch feather-light but grounding. You felt yourself starting to relax for the first time all day, the tension slowly melting from your body as you sat wrapped in his warmth.

“You know,” Felix said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away from yours as if he were gathering his courage. When he looked back, his expression was soft, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your breath catch.

“Y/N… I don’t think I can keep this to myself anymore.” His voice was quieter now, almost nervous. “I care about you. A lot. More than just… as a friend.”

Your heart stopped, the words hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly. “What?” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Felix gave you a small, almost shy smile, his cheeks tinged pink. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for a while now, but I didn’t want to risk ruining what we have. But seeing you like this tonight… I realized I can’t keep it in anymore. You mean so much to me, and I just… I wanted you to know.”

You stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. And then, slowly, warmth bloomed in your chest, chasing away the heaviness that had lingered there all day. “Felix… I—” You paused, your lips curving into a soft smile. “I love you too.”

His eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening slightly as if he hadn’t dared to hope you would say those words back. And then, his face broke into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen, his expression radiant with relief and happiness.

“Really?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Really,” you confirmed, reaching up to gently cup his face. “How could I not? You’re… everything to me.”

Felix let out a breathy laugh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”

He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the world felt still—just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth. His thumb brushed over your cheek again, his touch as tender as ever.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N,” he murmured. “On your bad days, your good days, and everything in between. I promise.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink into your heart. For the first time that day, you felt truly at peace, safe in the arms of someone who loved you completely.

tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

ೃ⁀➷ look at me! look at me!

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing…

right?

fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.

when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards

but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless

with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)

no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure

rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)

eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over

unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior

the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing

you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)

you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you

you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on

tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO

when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)

one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.

when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man

let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around

in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits

he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements

he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him

you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry… right?

but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on

he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)

once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work

he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse

and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks

you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply

but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it

no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch

eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz

he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is

at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model

little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for

whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.

you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere

he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look

he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself

you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city

despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough

and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness

when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests

you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing

he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading

he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol

you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization

he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell

he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state

you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children

you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: wowza that was a lot 😵‍💫

y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml

i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‼️

if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh 🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“Wait… you like me?” I Jack Hughes

Summary; In the world of hockey, you share a close friendship with Jack Hughes. Yet, as your feelings for him grow over time, you decide to keep them hidden. However, when fate suddenly pushes you to confront your emotions, will Jack risk your friendship for something more?

Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers; teasing/light bullying; some sort of sadness; hidden feelings; fear of one-sided love;

Other notes; so, I'm actually starting to find writing about this lad quite enjoyable; I mean, just take a look at him! He's absolutely adorable 🤗

Word count; 1.6K

➼｡ﾟ

You met Jack Hughes for the first time nearly a year after he was drafted, when you had just started working for the New Jersey Devils organization. You had volunteered for some unpaid media tasks, eager to establish yourself in the hockey community, which occasionally allowed you to get closer to the players. And already within your first few weeks at the hockey rink, Jack immediately noticed your curious and focused expression. Without even knowing why, he felt drawn to your shy smile and decided to strike up a conversation with you.

Although his high level of confidence initially took you by surprise, you were instantly charmed by his adorable smile and laughter. And with a combination of cheesy jokes, hockey references, and a playful sense of humour, Jack quickly grasped your deep love and passion for the sport, which only intrigued him further.

You had to admit, it felt as though your friendship blossomed out of nowhere. You bonded over analysing plays, discussing strategies, and the excitement of being part of the Devils' community. And being from the area yourself, you happily showed him around, unveiling all the hidden treasures unknown to many, as you got to know each other on deeper levels.

Jack couldn’t help but admire your dedication and knowledge of hockey, finding your passion for the sport captivating – much like his own. He appreciated how you cheered him on from the side lines, occasionally donning his jersey, and noticed your unwavering commitment to following the team whenever possible.

Yet, as your friendship gradually deepened over the following years, you couldn't deny that you found yourself relishing the time spent with him more and more. His infectious boyish smile, his amusing Florida accent, and his genuine kindness all contributed to making you feel at ease whenever you were in his presence. And as you both transitioned into adulthood, you felt yourself slowly developing deeper emotions for him.

However, you kept these feelings concealed, fearing the potential risk to your friendship. Moreover, you couldn't shake the belief that Jack was entirely out of your league. He was talented, charismatic, and had a magnetic personality that drew people to him. All the girls who pursued him exuded glamour and confidence, and you couldn't help but feel like you didn't measure up.

But though you didn't align with the same interests as those girls – preferring quiet evenings discussing hockey stats over amazing dinners – Jack valued your genuine calm and laid-back demeanour. He appreciated your dedication to your work and simply relished spending time with you, whether engaged in hockey conversations or simply enjoying each other's company.

And despite your insecurities, you treasured your friendship with Jack as well, grateful for the connection you shared. You simply never entertained the thought that he could view you as anything beyond a friend. Thus, you chose to keep your feelings hidden, content with enjoying his company and offering support in any way possible.

**

However, on one fateful night, fate seemed to conspire against you.

As the arena hummed with excitement, the New Jersey Devils celebrated yet another hard-earned victory over their rivals. Amidst a sea of cheering fans, you stood, passionately supporting the team you had grown to adore, as the energy was palpable, and the jubilation of the win filled the air.

And following the game, you found yourself in the company of Jack and several other members of the Devils organization. However, as you shared laughter and conversation, revelling in the triumph, the discussion suddenly took an unexpected turn.

The girls in the group began to tease you in a playful manner about your close friendship with Jack, their words carrying a mischievous undertone. Initially, it was light-hearted banter, harmless jests exchanged among friends. However, their teasing gradually veered towards a more pointed direction, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks with embarrassment.

"I swear, y/n, every time Jack scores a goal, you look at him as though he's the only person in the room," one of the girls teased, nudging you with her elbow.

And then another girl joined in, her laughter resonating through the air. "Yeah, it's as if you're completely smitten with him or something."

You attempted to shrug off their remarks with a nervous chuckle, but instead, it only seemed to encourage their teasing further.

"I think she might actually have a bit of a crush on him," one of them remarked, her tone laced with mock seriousness.

And then the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt your cheeks flushing even warmer. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, you couldn't deny the truth in their words.

"Oh my gosh! She does... y/n's got a thing for Jack Hughes, how adorable," the first girl exclaimed, her laughter ringing through the hallway.

And nable to bear the embarrassment any longer, you hastily excused yourself from the group, muttering something about needing to freshen up. You spun on your heel and hurried away, seeking to put as much distance between yourself and the teasing girls as possible.

"Wait, y/n, hold on," Jack called out to you, his voice gentle but insistent.

But just as you thought you had managed to escape, you felt a gentle hand on your arm, halting your retreat. Turning around, you were met with Jack's concerned gaze, his expression soft yet urgent. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye, the embarrassment still blazing hot on your cheeks.

"Y/n, don't walk away like that..." Jack pleaded, his grip tightening around your arm.

"Please, Jack," you attempted to shake him off, your voice barely audible. "I just want to go home, okay? You can just go back to your friends."

"What, no,” Jack's voice betrayed confusion and concern. "I'm not done talking to you."

You sighed, giving in slightly, pulling your hand to cross your arms across your chest. "Fine, then let’s talk?"

"I want to know about what they were saying back there," he said, his tone grave.

You bit your lip, feeling the blush returning to your cheeks, your arms tucking yourself tightly in a defence. "It's nothing, just silly chatter among girls."

Jack shook his head, his brows knitting together. "It didn't sound like nothing. They were discussing you and me, weren't they?"

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "They... they were just teasing. It's not important." You tried to force a light chuckle, but your heavy breaths failed you. 

"Y/n," Jack said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. “Talk to me.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you struggled to find the right words, tears pressing on, yet you managed to hold them back. "I... Jack, I..."

He lifted your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. "Wait... you like me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his stare. "Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I understand if you don't feel the same way. I mean, look at me, I'm nothing like the girls you're used to..."

Jack's expression softened; his thumb moving to trace gentle circles on your cheek. "Y/n, I don’t want you to be like those girls. You're not like anyone else I know. And that's what I like about you. You're passionate, driven, and you love hockey just as much as I do. You're not just some random girl to me, you're my best friend."

Tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by his words. "But what about those other girls? The ones who are always around you, the ones who..."

"They mean nothing to me," Jack interrupted, his voice firm. "The only person I care about is you."

You searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and warmth reflected back at you. And in that moment, you realized that there was a chance that everything was about to change.

"Jack," you whispered. "I like you. More than just a best friend."

A smile spread across Jack's face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. As you melted into his embrace, you couldn't help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the start of something truly special.

And in that tender moment when Jack's lips met yours, all your worries and insecurities seemed to slowly dissolve. There was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace.

You leaned into the kiss, relishing the sensation of Jack's lips against yours, his gentle touch sending shivers down your spine. It felt like a dream come true, something you had only dared to imagine in your wildest fantasies.

And as the kiss deepened, you were swept away by a rush of emotions – joy, relief, and an overwhelming sense of love. It was surreal to believe that Jack felt the same way about you, that he saw you as more than just a friend.

Then breaking away from the kiss, he looked into your eyes with a soft smile. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice brimming with sincerity.

And you couldn't help but smile back, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. "Me too," you whispered, your heart overflowing with love for the man standing before you.

In that moment, everything felt perfect – the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other's embrace.

"So, you like me too, huh?" You chuckled lightly, breaking the silence that enveloped you.

"Yeah, probably have for a while…" Jack's admission was timid, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

"You should’ve said something," you spoke almost nervously, feeling a little ridiculous for not having had the courage to speak up sooner.

"Sorry, I was afraid you didn’t feel the same…" Jack's words were filled with regret.

You couldn't suppress a light laughter, the tension dissipating. "Jack, how could I not feel the same? Everyone likes you."

"Told you, to me you’re different. But I’m just happy that you do like me… because I’m crazy about you," Jack confessed, his words filled with sincerity and warmth.

And with another kiss, you sealed the newfound relationship, the warmth of it echoing the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Don't drink the Kool-Aid pt.1

I'll create a tag list if people want to be tagged. There's a meaning behind Savior Anwir's name! This chapter is a bit short considering it's technically a prologue.

Your day is a boring loop yet one you’ve grown to love.

You wake up, get ready for the day, wait in line for your tray of shitty food, sit with your “team”, finish eating. 

During the morning you spend your time exercising until you’re about to collapse. This will end around lunchtime in which you’ll get your lunch delivered to wherever you are in the place. Afterwards you are expected to show your devotion to your higher-ups, your family, your saviors. The rest of the day you either practice combat or defense.

Tiring as it might be, it was your life and you loved it. 

You don’t remember your life before joining Savior Anwir in her division of the Daughters of Eve. The division is based in Gotham City, a place even the devil himself had abandoned. Atleast, that’s what you’ve been told. 

You see, you’re not allowed out of the confines of the estate. It’s too dangerous, what if men take you away and use you? What if you get lost? What if you accidentally get killed? It’s terrifying to think of and keeps you away from the outside world.

Today however things have gone a bit differently, after showing devotion to your saviors you and everyone else is herded to the main hall - which was just the foyer area. This only happens when they take on new members. 

Will they be mean? Would they be overjoyous? There’s so many options and you don’t like any of them, you don’t like new people or change, you like how everything is now.

You take your place in the second row. 

The first row is for kids, the second for teens, the third for young adults, the fourth for adults, and the fifth for people over that age.

Savior Anwir stands atop the stairs in front of everyone, two people next to her. 

One is a girl with blonde hair, tanned skin and striking blue eyes, she’s in a purple hoodie and black leggings. The other is a girl with short black hair, brown eyes and beautiful clear skin, she herself is in a blackish gray graphic t-shirt and light gray sweatpants.

People start to murmur, a teammate of yours turns to you. 

“They seem off, right?” You don’t know why she’s asking you. Frankly, you don’t care, your team is full.

“I guess, but they seem nice enough.” Is all you say, no point in conspiring against people who haven’t even been in your presence for more than a minute.

The murmurs die down as soon as Savior Anwir raises her hands.

“Now, I understand everyone is excited for new sisters to be joining us,” Savior Anwir glances at the two beside her as if silently asking if she’s correct to call them sisters. Savior Anwir doesn’t actually care, she is simply doing it to make them seem more welcomed - you’ve been around long enough to know that.

She continues.

“But we must calm down and not cause strain on their mental capacities!” Savior Anwir puts a hand on either girl’s shoulders. “Please, introduce yourselves.”

The blonde one speaks up first “I’m Stephanie but everyone can call me Steph!” She seems energetic and like she doesn’t truly belong here.

The other one doesn’t speak up. Steph chuckles and speaks up again “This is Cassandra, you can just call her Cass! She’s mute.” Mutism is common here due to many people coping by not speaking at all. That’s probably why she’s mute, she was attacked and now chooses to be mute!

Right? Right.

Silence envelops the room then and you don't miss how Steph awkwardly looks around as if expecting applause - something you will not do until Savior Anwir says so.

Savior Anwir nods. "Thank you girls, you are very lucky to be joining today, it just so happens we've found some of our trainees have been plotting against us. So we have openings for you!"

You raise a brow, who would be so stupid to plot against your own family? The very family that graciously took you in and nurtured you, protected you and showed you true love.

Savior Anwir holds her hands out. "The two traitors who have decided they do not love us are none other than Mary Hailstone and Annie Malcomb! Please, come up here and shake hands with your replacements!"

You freeze, Mary and Annie belonged to your team, you three were as close as people get in this cult. They wouldn't of betrayed you... Right?

You watch as the two slowly ascend the staircase, heads down and hands shaking.

When you betray DoE there is only one punishment.

Mary and Annie both shake hands with Steph and Cass before Savior Anwir hands the traitors a gun each.

They had a choice, shoot each other or shoot themselves. They chose themselves.

You watch as Steph's eyes widen in horror and Cass's eyebrows twitch slightly.

You suppose you should pick up on little things they do now considering they'll be your new team members...

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.

NEXT… CHAPTER FIVE : accidental kiss.

you sat at the grand dining table, chandelier dimming the area hanged above you and textbooks of different curriculum surrounded you. you were diligently working through difficult math questions with megumi, breaking down each problem step by step. the room filled with flashy decor and high ceilings only further echoed your explanations.

“alright megumi, for this one i want you to do it on your own. if you get stuck, look back at the previous problems we worked on.” you said in a patient and encouraging voice.

just as megumi was about to start to solve the problem before him, the one and only satoru burst through the custom wooden doors with a mischievous grin on his face. “good evening miss.l/n, megumi. how’s the tutoring session going?”

megumi sighed, clearly in annoyance and frustration. “it was going well until now.”

you warmly smiled at satoru. “it’s going well mr.gojo. megumi doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with his studies at all.”

satoru leaned casually on the back of a dinning chair, his eyes twinkling in excitement. “please, call me satoru. there’s no need for you to be so formal.” he then glances at the textbooks, “math, huh? i always found it interesting how numbers can just..add up. almost like how we keep running into each other.”

you chuckled at his light joke, “it’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?” you asked while turning to megumi, giving him your full attention.

megumi could only roll his eyes and mutter, “more like the world’s way of conspiring against me..”

satoru quickly ignored megumi’s comment and continued, “so, miss.l/n, do you enjoy teaching? you must be very passionate about it if you’re able to put up with this brat.” satoru playfully ruffles megumi’s hair but his hand was quickly slapped away.

“teaching definitely wasn’t my first nor second choice but i’ve grown to love it.” you replied, “seeing bright students like megumi and being able to push them to be the greatest is rewarding.”

satoru’s goofy grin only widen. “you know, you have a way of talking that’s just so captivating. your students are lucky to hear you speak everyday.”

a light blush spreads across your face, from your ears to the tip of your nose. “thank you satoru, that’s very kind of you to say.” som would find it odd calling him by his first name but it came out so casually it made his heart flutter.

megumi groaned in annoyance, loud enough to snap the eye contact between you and his guardian. “can we please get back to the math problem?” he clearly has grown uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

but satoru couldn’t let some lousy kid ruin his shot, he was just on a roll! “of course, of course i’ll let you go after one more question.” he said while glancing back at megumi and then setting his eyes on you once again. “what do you do in your free time when you’re not inspiring the kids of our future? maybe we could find some common interest.”

before you could answer, the heavy double doors of the dinning room swing open once again. it was satoru’s mother, an intimidating figure with a very stern expression. her eyes quickly examined the scene before her, narrowing her eyes on you.

“satoru, what is this?” she demanded. “who and why is this woman tutoring megumi?”

satoru quickly shifted his demeanor. going from a playful, flirtatious puppy to a presentable young man. “mother, this is miss.y/n l/n. she’s megumi’s teacher and tutor. an excellent tutor i should add.”

his mother’s lips thinned as she continued to examine what seemed to be every feature of yours. her lips soon turned into a disapprovement line. “i was not aware we were seeking…employment from the outside world. especially from someone who looks..well inexperience.”

your face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like you entered uncharted territory. but you stood up and bowed out of respect, maintaining your composure. “mrs.gojo, i can assure you that i am very much qualified to tutor megumi. i’ve studied in-“

“qualifications on paper mean little. experience and dynasty is what matters when it comes to our family. megumi is like a grandson to me, and he deserves only the best our family can provide. surely my son didn’t cheap out on you, did he megumi?” her icy gaze turned into a warming, innocent expression as she turned to megumi.

“mother, that’s enough. miss.l/n is more than qualified to tutor megumi. after all, she’s the reason he hasn’t been expelled from his academy.” satoru said as he stepped forward in your defense.

but being the stubborn woman she was, she wasn’t going to let it down without a fight. “satoru, i will not let our family’s name be tarnished from subpar tutoring. you could’ve asked me to arrange a private tutor for him. this is unacceptable.” she whispered to him, quiet enough to keep megumi out of it but loud enough to bring you down.

being clearly hurt, you began to gather all your things. “i completely understand, mrs.gojo. i apologize for the inconvenience and if i caused any offense.”

satoru’s eyes flashed with saddens as he turned around to see you leave. “miss.l/n, please, you don’t need to leave. you’re more than capable of educating megumi. please, have a seat.” he said while pulling your chair out.

his mother’s gazed shifted to satoru, her expression hardening. “satoru, you may be the head of this family but i still have a say in what’s best for this family.”

tears began to form in your eyes, was your presence truly a burden to the family?

satoru took a deep breathe, desperately trying to remain calm in front of you. had it been any other person, he would’ve listened to his mother in a heartbeat. “miss.l/n, i’m very sorry for my mothers behavior. your help is appreciated, and i know how much your deeply care for megumi. please, continuing tutoring him if you’re willing to.”

you hesitated to answer, your eyes flickering between satoru and his mother. “i appreciate your efforts but i don’t want to cause any more trouble.” you whispered.

“you’re not causing any trouble,” satoru said while gently grabbing your items and placing them down on the table. “my mother is. this is my home and you’re more than welcomed to stay.”

with his persistence, you felt comfortable to sit back down in your seat. you nodded in agreement to stay, avoiding his mother’s sharpening glare.

he turns to his mother, “we can continue this conversation in my office, away from megumi and my guest.” he spat out.

his mother eyes only blazed with anger as she stomped out the room. as her heels clacking slowly faded away you let go a breath you were unaware you were holding in.

“i’m really sorry about that. she’s..a difficult person, to say the least. it’s her away or the highway type of person.” he smiled apologetically.

you attempted to reciprocate the same smile but you were still a bit shaken up by the interaction. “it’s okay satoru, i’m glad you stuck up for me.”

megumi let out a sigh of relief, “so, does that mean you’ll continue to be my teacher and my tutor?”

you could only chuckle as his concern comment unintentionally lightened the mood. “of course i will, megumi! now let’s get back to that math problem.”

satoru took a deep breath as he approached his home office. he knew what- or who awaited him before the wooden doors. he braced himself for the confrontation. the heavy doors creaked, revealing his mother sitting in his high black leather chair, her posture being straighter than paper.

“mother,” satoru greeted but not in his chirpy tone like he would use with you or megumi. it was natural with not emotion behind it.

“satoru,” she replied, it was more viscous and icy. “we need to talk.”

he closed the doors behind him and walked over to his desk, leaning against it while placing both hands on it. his demeanor is in all seriousness, a rare sight to see. “i already know what you’re going to say, and i’m telling you right now- miss.l/n stays.”

her eyes narrowed, “is her qualifications that impressive, or is there something more to your interest in her?”

satoru immediately backs off the desk and avoids her gaze. “miss.l/n is an excellent teacher. like i said before, she vouched for megumi when he was near expulsion. she cares for his education and future, there’s nothing more to it,” he expressed.

his mother stood up from his chair and clasped her hands. “very well, i’ll drop the matter for now. but there’s another issue we must discuss- your status as a single man.”

satoru’s brows furrowed in confusion. “what about it?”

“you are the head of the gojo family,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “it’s time you start fulfilling your responsibilities as the leader. you need to find a suitable spouse and provide a worthy successor.”

he sighed, running his hands through his white hair. “well i’m aware of my responsibilities, mother. but i don’t see why we need to rush any of this.”

“because you’re nearing thirty, and it’s past time you start settling down. if you don’t find a worthy partner before your cousin’s wedding, i’ll take matters into my own hands and find one for you.”

satoru’s stomach turned into knots knowing his cousin’s wedding was less than a year away. his jaw clenched before he spoke up, “by a ‘worthy partner’ you mean somebody who fits your exact standards?”

“precisely!” she said while giving him a small peck on his cheek. “someone who comes from a prestigious and noble background, with proper upbringing and connections that could further benefit our clan.”

satoru exhaled sharply before speaking his mind. “and what if i want to marry somebody who doesn’t fit the standard? what if i want to chose for myself?”

his mother laughs. she laughs in front of his face for asking such a silly question. it takes her a good minute before she calms herself down. “your personal desires are to be put aside. you will do what’s best for the family.”

he could only stare at his mother. “and what if what’s best for the family doesn’t come from a prestigious background? what if it’s someone genuine and cares about me?”

her voice was steely. “then she’ll spend everyday to make herself into something she’s not. go ahead and bring some commoner into this family.”

the tension was thick. satoru felt his mother’s words pierced through his chest and mentally suffocated. it hurt because she was right, she was always right.

“you may think you have a choice,” she whispered, “but remember your decisions affect more than yourself.”

she quietly excuses herself out the office, leaving him in a mental battle of doubt. the weight of his family’s expectations were catching up to him and started to drag him down to the depths of hell. he sat down as he ran his hands through his hair. it would mean nothing to bring a regular girl into his clan other than to prove his point. but he couldn’t help to think about you and the rare moments of genuine connection he felt around you. his breathing slowed down and his nervous fidgeting stopped. maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could follow a path that’ll satisfy both him and his clan.

series masterlist | my masterlist

tag list is open. please inbox me your username. also, i’d like to apologize for such a late and short chapter. testifying in court takes longer than you think ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

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[nayziiz]

Disturbed | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

In the high-stakes world of motorsports, where the roar of engines drowned out all other sounds and the smell of burning rubber hung heavy in the air, Oscar stood as a beacon of unwavering determination. His name was synonymous with calm and resilience, his reputation forged on the anvil of countless hard-fought battles on-track and defying odds by helping keep his team in the running for third in the Constructors Championship. From the moment he first strapped himself into the driver's seat, Oscar had possessed an indomitable spirit that seemed impervious to the twists and turns of the race track.

Race after race, he pushed himself and his car to the very limit in pursuit of glory. Whether navigating treacherous hairpin turns or duelling wheel-to-wheel with his rivals, Oscar never backed down from a challenge. His resolve was unyielding, a relentless force that propelled him forward, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

But for all his unwavering determination, there were moments when he faltered too. It was on one particularly gruelling race day that the cracks in his armour began to show. Everything seemed to conspire against him – mechanical issues, strategic missteps, and a relentless onslaught of bad luck. Each setback chipped away at his confidence, threatening to unravel the very fabric of his resolve.

As the race wore on and Oscar's fortunes continued to decline, a sense of despair settled over him like a suffocating blanket. Doubt crept into his mind, gnawing away at his confidence and sowing seeds of uncertainty. For the first time in his career, he found himself teetering on the brink of defeat, his once unshakable resolve shaken to its core.

Amidst the chaos of the pit lane and the cacophony of roaring engines, there was one constant that anchored Oscar's fraying sanity – her. She was the quiet strength in his corner, the steady presence that never wavered, no matter how tumultuous the storm. Her belief in him was unwavering, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness of doubt.

With each passing lap, she mumbled quiet prayers in the garage. She was his rock, his anchor in the storm, her unwavering support a lifeline in his darkest hour. And though he struggled to find solace in the midst of defeat, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would never truly be alone.

As the chequered flag finally fell and the race came to an end, Oscar found himself staring down the bitter taste of defeat. But in the arms of the one who had stood by him through it all, he discovered a glimmer of hope amidst the wreckage of his shattered dreams.

“Oscar, listen to me,” she said, her voice cutting through the chaos of the post-race pit lane like a beacon of clarity. “I know things didn’t go as planned, but you've got this. You've faced tougher challenges before, and you've always come out on top. This is just another step to reaching the top.”

He glanced over at her, his eyes searching for reassurance in the midst of his turmoil.

“But what if this time is different? What if I've finally met my match?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

She reached out and gently took his hand, her touch a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil.

“You're Oscar Piastri,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You're one of the most talented drivers out there, and nothing – not even a bad race – can change that. You have the skill, the determination, and the heart to overcome anything that comes your way.”

In the aftermath of defeat, Oscar realised that his strength did not lie solely in his ability to conquer adversity, but in his capacity to accept defeat with grace and humility. And though the road ahead may be fraught with challenges, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would always find the courage to carry on. For in her unwavering support, he found the resilience to rise from the ashes of defeat and chase his dreams once more.