#but then I lose enthusiasm to write my own

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

6, 17, and/or 22 for fanfic ask meme, please?

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Not from the FFXV fandom. There's many talented authors in this fandom, but when I read FFXV fanfic, it makes me lose the will to write my own. It's weird and buggs me, because I want to read all those amazing works.

Outside of the FFXV fandom, I love the fic New Genesis by deanine, it's from FFXVI, and Loading and Aspect Ratio by JUBE514 which is a Batman fic.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

I learned that I hate participles. XD (Language creation is hard)

The most recent thing would be that I learned about Arabian architecture thanks to @raven-6-10. Which is really fun!

And the thing before that was the layout of Ancient Roman kitchens and what kinds of food they te back then. (It's fascinating to learn what spices they had access to, because it implies how widespread trade was back then. It's really cool.) (I learned that for my Times Immemorial au fics)

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

Roughly.

I know who lives and who is dead by the end and if it's a happy ending. That's about it. The details come when I actually get to writing it.

[fingertipsmp3]

Might fuck around and start NaNo a day late with zero outline or plan

[yotsubaclover]

i've sometimes considered working to have my (creative) writing published, but the idea of having to "institutionalize" my work has always irked me since becoming more cognizant of the politics of literary institutions. that's a lot of words to say it personally feels strange to have that urge, because it seems to consume the rest of my writing process, which leaves me with nothing done in the end. to write with the goal of being published by someone or something else is to become unnaturally self-conscious of yourself and your practice.

it's why i think i'm so inclined to zines and self-publishing... even so, at least once in my life i should try to get published, so i know i've worked through the things i know i need to process with regard to it lol

(but really, how much of it is really just a me problem, and not a byproduct of the culture of the lit establishment...?)

[arealtrashact]

i GOTTA know your thoughts on the Boys S4 so far

I'm . . . enjoying it. Like, really enjoying it? More than I thought would be possible after season three (nearly) demolished any and all enthusiasm I held towards it.

I'm especially loving the whole 'Pinky and the Brain' thing Sister Sage has going on with Homelander.

Sage herself is such a breath of fresh air. I find her extremely charming on her own but watching her maneuver Homelander is so entertaining. I can't remember the last time he had someone genuinely interesting to play off of. I've always said that my love for HL is so monumental that it eclipses every other character in the show (so much so that it prevents me from even *having* a second favorite character) but that has changed with Sage.

I'm not thrilled about the generous amount of screen time being allotted to Frenchie of all characters. Paying attention to storylines that have nothing to do with Homelander is already hard for me so sitting through the Frenchie Guilt Extravaganza is borderline painful.

I love everything going on with Ryan. It's no secret that child actors are reaaaally hit or miss, but this kid is knocking it out of the park every single time he's on screen. I'm so impressed that he can hold his own against Homelander in all of their shared scenes.

Starlight was losing me up until that one scene with Firecracker. Call it out of character, call it sloppy writing, but I think it adds another layer to her. Starlight had/has the ability to be a vindictive little beast? Noted.

I could write more but I'm going to be merciful and stop there. I'm tentatively optimistic that this season will be better than the last. Which. . . isn't actually that much of an accomplishment. The bar is low. The bar is on the floor.

With all of that being said, regardless of if the writing tailspins in the second half of S4 the same way it did in S3, I can die in peace with all of the good Homelander content I got out of those first three episodes. I can die in peace because I have ↓ THIS ↓

[1d1195]

Made to Be - Extra IV

Read Made to Be here | ~1.8k words

From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.

Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.

Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.

May

“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.

He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.

“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”

“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”

She sighed. “I know, I know.”

They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.

She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.

He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.

“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.

“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.

“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”

“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”

She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”

“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

*

But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.

As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.

The relief was exhilarating.

About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.

“School trip?”

She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.

She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.

Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”

“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”

“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”

“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”

She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”

She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”

“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”

“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.

“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.

“Shh.”

“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”

“He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.

“No one—”

“That guy.”

“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”

“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”

“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”

*

“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”

“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”

“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.

The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.

She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”

“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.

“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”

She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.

“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”

“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”

“Lucky ring,” he hummed.

“Harry,” she hissed.

“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”

“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.

She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.

Someone who was made for her.

“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.

“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.

Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.

--

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[freyito]

i read the umm boothil vidaharyda (i dunno if im spellung that right) peice you did and and HOTBJF FNF ABABABJGHYTUFHFHR?!!!!!!!!!!!! that was AMAZING!! if you did a part two it would be like, really cool!! i love the way you write sm 🫰

✭ pairing(s): boothill x male vidyadhara reader

✧ a/n: im glad you enjoyed my writing anon... i apologizing for being several months late... ahaha... ANYWAYS! i think this is a nice break from blue veins two... just some good ol fluff :P... it's also been so long since i've written for male reader it feels like @_@

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: male reader, vidyadhara reader, itty bit of lore building (made the vidyadhara look a little more like the yan siblings from arknights), hey you guys are married now!, lots more fluff. cause i said so., he's a little clingy, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.9k

[i , ii]

ꜱᴄᴀʟᴇꜱ & ᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ; ii

Well, where did the time go? Suddenly, you find yourself lounging on Boothill’s ship, face down on a couch, as his fingers scratch at your scalp. Your tail wags shamelessly in the air as he hums, some tune he had picked up in his youth. Needless to say, you are content beyond relief right now. It had been a couple years since Boothill had first asked you out, and now what you are left with is bi-monthly ‘vacations’, and a pretty little ring on your finger.

Safe n’ sound in the vast expanse of space, stuck with a Galaxy Ranger that had vowed to keep you safe, love you with every single part of his being, bolts and all. It’s something he echoes near every day, even when he is several star systems apart from you. A normal day at the Skyfaring Commission for you could be a wild chase for Boothill, running from bounty hunters, taunting them anyway he can. While you worried over him to the point of running yourself ragged, he had always found his way back to you.

He spoiled you rotten, with every breath he took, every step he tracked, you were pampered. He was much like a penguin, bringing you rocks from whichever planet he had visited. Not just rocks, but all sorts of trinkets. He’d bring you food if he could, because he’s just so in love with the way your face lights up when you taste something new. The way your tail wags furiously, while you speak so fast you run out of breath.

He’s found that he quite enjoys living through you. He can eat, sure, but he can’t taste it. So to watch you enjoy new cuisine with such enthusiasm (or even the same food you’ve been eating since you first could), it brings him an odd sense of peace. That being said, dinner dates are always on the schedule. It’s more of him watching you with a lovestruck look on his face while you eat.

Little dates like that have been quite common ever since he first asked you out. And before, of course. The only difference is they are more frequent. No matter how far he had been, across the star system or on planets unknown, he has always found a way to show up after your shift, or sweep you away to his ship.

All of this, of course, leads back to the current moment. Tucked away in your own little slice of heaven, reading some fantastical mythologically inclined story, while Boothill pets you as if you were a lap dog. He does his best to steer clear of your horns, though you know he won’t for long. Regardless, in his eyes, you are simply so cute like this, all docile and happy. The way your tail waves with every pet, or wags faster when he nears your horns.

“Darlin’...” He whispers, the pet name falling from his lips languidly.

You don’t look up from your book, but acknowledge him with a soft ‘hm?’ nonetheless. You haven’t found a spot to pause, too deep into the page, and the next page didn’t start with the start of a sentence. You’d lose your place too easily!

Boothill, however, wasn’t happy with such simple acknowledgement.

“Heyyy, darlin’...” He drawls in a sing-song tone, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. “Look at me, pretty please?”

“One more moment,” You mutter, unphased.

He isn’t happy with that answer either. He slides his hand under your chip, cupping your face and tilting your head up. Your eyes track your book as much as they can, before inevitably meeting Boothill’s. He gives you a crooked smile when you make eye contact, batting his eyelashes like he didn’t do anything.

“There you are…” He purrs, low and sultry, his other hand continuing to pet at your hair. “Listen, I was thinkin’ we go do somethin’ real fancy.”

“For what occasion?” You cock your head to the side. You did your best to swallow whatever annoyance you had, as much as you were into the book, there was no need to point it out. Boothill would’ve gotten his way one way or another.

“I dunno. ‘Cause I wanna,” He shrugs, “I’m thinkin’ of takin’ you somewhere, maybe The Capital of Passion, maybe New Bethelhem. Somewhere nice n’ romantic. I’d take you out for one of the classics; dinner and a show. See if there’s somewhere showing one of those cheesy romance movies you like so much, eh?”

As he speaks, he leans down a little, pulling you closer. In the end, you shuffled up with a blush, huffing softly and turning your head away from him. You know what he’s doing, lingering a little too long, his eyes following your every little move. He either seeks to fluster you still, with simply asking you out on a date, or he’s scheming. The second thing makes you shiver slightly.

“I haven’t seen somethin’ like that in a long time, y’know, it’d be nice to enjoy somethin’ all quiet and peaceful like. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

“... What are you up to?”

“Nothin’ sugar! Ah, that’s hurtful, you know! Always thinkin’ im up to no good,” Boothill shakes his head with a mock-disappointed look. “Can’t a man share his ideas?”

You sigh, doing your best to calm down your own bashfulness, as he shuffles closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close. With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes. His smile drops for a second, and that leaves an odd ache in your gut. When have you not seen him smile? But that worry is quickly washed away when he opens his eye, that familiar sparkle twinkling in his eye.

“I just wanna treat you good, yeah? I dunno… I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to take you somewhere nice…” His voice wavers. Meanwhile, you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He’s taken such good care of you, so where did this come from? “When was the last time we had a date where you could get all dolled up and we’d have a night out on the town, hm…?”

“Well…” You do your best to recall, but you can’t necessarily remember. Mainly because he’s taken you on so many dates, it all tends to get lost in the mix.

“Exactly! That’s why I’m thinkin’ I ought to start acting like a gentleman.”

That statement makes you tilt your head in confusion. A gentleman? He was already one, really. He just hadn’t lost his roguish charm. He treated you so well and kind, showered you with gifts, compliments, and praises, and here he was saying he should act like a gentleman?

“Boothill… what do you mean by that?”

“I wanna settle down. For you, ‘n all.”

“SETTLE DOWN!?” You can’t help but raise your voice in shock. Your tail starts flicking ferociously, trying to make sense of what he had said. It was clear enough, but for the Boothill to say he wants to settle down? Ah. He must be insane. Something must’ve gotten into one of his neurochips and infected his system. That must be it.

“Woah there cowboy–”

Before he gets the chance to explain his reasoning, you pounce on him. You press the back of your hand to his forehead to check if he was running hot (like he could get a fever…), then stare into his eye for a moment, before lifting his upper lip with your thumb, before forcing the man to open his mouth. Well, how were you supposed to check a cyborg for any symptoms of a virus? You didn’t know. But his mouth seemed normal, his gums seemed normal, all seemed well. He chuckles as you shuffle down and press your ear to his chest, to see if his fans were kicking into overdrive. There was no sound out of the ordinary, the subtle humming of his fans and system working as intended.

Slowly, his hands fall to your shoulders as he pushes you up off of him. He lays beneath you with a soft smile, while you stare down at him, tail swishing like a predator ready to pounce. You still can’t get over it, there’s no way he’d say such a thing. He was spontaneous, if he stayed in one place for more than two weeks, he’d get antsy! Not to mention, he was wanted. He couldn’t really stay in one place regardless, even in some place as heavily guarded as the Loufu. Besides, you were happy as is! Married, with a stunning boyfriend to boot, who loved you like no other… even the thought of settling down with him seemed outlandish.

“Is it really such an insane idea? Think about it sweetpea,” He shrugs, maintaining eye contact. “Nice little corner of the universe to call our own. I’d make a good, honest livin’, tendin’ a little farm and what not.”

You give him another perturbed look, one that borders on disgusted.

Nicer light? What a joke, you think. You’ve seen him when he’s as dashing as ever, running from bounty hunters who had tracked him down on one of your little moonlit evenings. The way he looks just stunning no matter what, whether it be when he’s delivering some of your favorite food to you, or when he’s dragged you to his favorite shooting spot. The way the sunlight had always hit him just perfectly, the way his smile shines oh so bright, the way those eyes charm you to even do the simplest of things when he’s ‘too tired’.

Before you can retort, his chuckle turns into a deep laugh, hands falling to your sides.

“You believed me, huh?” He laughs, doing his best to shuffle out of your ireful gaze. “Was I that convincin’?”

Ah. He was playing around. Good. Still, that doesn't stop you from scolding him. You reach up and pinch his cheeks, earning a groan from him as he tries to wrench free from your grip.

“Where did that come from!?” You pitch, making sure he stays beneath you. “That’s scary you know! Suddenly jumping to a conclusion like that! Especially when you’re wanted!”

“Hey now!” Boothill protests. But you shut him up quick, leaving his cheeks and landing a couple of playful punches to his chestplate. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere– or, I guess I should– stop that!”

Before you have time to react, he’s reached up and grabbed one of your horns, causing you to yelp at the way it made you feel. The cold steel against your wonderful horns sending a white hot jolt of shock and something else, the feeling akin to when you’d bump your funny bone into something.

“Waha!” You whine, falling dramatically limp in his arms.

“Awh, now, I didn’t mean to do that baby,” He coos sarcastically, before turning to run his hand once more through your hair. “It was a joke, is all… can’t blame a man for having fun, can you? I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

When you look up at him, he’s pouting like you had truly scolded him for something so nonsensical, before it turns into a cheeky grin. One that said ‘I didn’t really do wrong…’. You’d fight back, speak your mind, but not when he’s so close to your weakness. With a huff, you stay in his arms, cheek pressed against his chest as he hums, idling running his fingers through your hair once more. What a scare he had given you, and now he gets to act all normal while you reap the consequences..

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[tomriddleslove]

can I please please please request a reverse grumpy x sunshine with theo 😭🙏🏼 i have a horrible cold rn and im pretty sure im getting a fever too and im so so close to my periods and im in some very desperate need for something nice 😭 it's totally fine if you can't or if you're busy, no pressure!

p.s. im in love with your writing! (if it wasn't obvious before)

Show a little loving.

✩ Theodore Nott x F!Reader

The one where a smitten Theodore Nott is willing to do anything and everything to see that smile of yours. It’s only a matter of time before he has to let you know - and the school mandated trip might make that a lot earlier.

A/N: This was so disgustingly cute i actually almost threw up but ig its necessary after 61 letters LOL (also @stardustsymphony ur actually amazing i hope you like it)

songs: Lovers - anna of the north

Theodore Nott had a habit of being too cheerful for his own good, especially in the mornings. You couldn’t figure out how he managed to wake up so early and still be this bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

It was unnatural.

You leaned against the Slytherin common room wall, waiting for your first class of the day, arms crossed and expression set in your usual neutral state. Your friends called it a "resting bitch face," though you insisted it was just your natural look.

Either way, no one seemed brave enough to bother you this early - except for Theo, of course.

"[name]!" His voice rang out from the entrance, and you groaned internally before turning your head to see him practically bouncing down the stairs, his dark hair flopping slightly as he moved.

“Too early for that much enthusiasm, Theo,” you muttered, but you didn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He always had that effect on you, no matter how much you tried to resist it.

Theodore didn’t seem fazed. He gave you a wide grin as he plopped down next to you on the stone bench. “It’s never too early! Have you seen outside? It’s perfect weather - I thought we could grab breakfast and maybe sit by the lake before class.”

“Not sure if I’m awake enough for all that,” you grumbled, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself. The dungeons were always too cold in the mornings. “But breakfast doesn’t sound too bad.”

“See? You’re already coming around,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

It was a running joke between the two of you. Theo was always the optimist, the 'sunshine' that (much to your dismay) seemed hellbent on making you smile. He was one of your closest friends, so you let him get away with it, though you wouldn’t admit how much you enjoyed his company - or how much his smile did things to your heart you didn’t entirely understand yet.

He nudged your arm gently. “I even asked Mattheo to save you a croissant for breakfast. No need to thank me, though I’ll accept compliments.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him out of the common room, the two of you falling into step as you walked through the corridors. It was easy, the way you fit together. Where you were quiet, he filled the silence with his never-ending commentary on whatever came to mind-whether it was about the latest Quidditch scores or some random thing he noticed about the castle.

Today, it was the latter.

“Have you ever noticed how that one portrait near the Great Hall looks like it’s giving people side-eye? I feel rather judged every time I walk by.” he rambled, feigning hurt as he places a hand on his chest.

You snorted, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up. “No, but now I’m definitely going to look for it.”

“See? I’m expanding your horizons,” he said with a satisfied grin.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking and you’ll lose your seat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that way that always made your stomach flip. “You’d miss me if I wasn’t there.”

You didn’t respond right away, but he wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t know how to describe the way your friendship with Theo felt like it was standing on the edge of something bigger, something neither of you had quite dared to name.

And maybe you weren’t ready for it just yet. But when he sat down beside you, close enough that your knees brushed under the table, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

Theodore hummed contentedly as he reached for the little pot of sugar, dumping three heaped teaspoons into his coffee like it was perfectly normal behaviour. The steam rose lazily from the cup, and he stirred it absentmindedly, flashing you that familiar, easy-going smile.

“Have you packed for the astronomy trip tomorrow?” he asked casually, as though he hadn’t just committed a serious coffee crime right in front of you. “Apparently Tromsø is absolutely piss cold at this time of year. Draco was telling me.”

“I’ll help you pack later. Just so you don’t forget something important. Like, I don’t know, an extra jumper for me.”

You shot him a glare. “Sure, Theodore. I’ll just pack your entire wardrobe while I’m at it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking,” he replied, grinning again. “Just the scarf, though. You know, my lucky one.”

You snorted. “That hideous green one? Absolutely not.”

“Blasphemy,” he said dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, [name].”

“Good,” You deadpan, turning to look at him.

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with something between disbelief and amusement. “God, Theodore-” you chided, pointing at his cup with disgust, “is that not just sugar with a side of coffee?”

"Well someone needs to make up for the clear joy discrepancy in this friendship." He defended, taking a long sip as if to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto your face. “Right, because your never-ending cheerfulness is the only thing keeping us all from a dark, miserable existence.”

“Exactly!” he declared, entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m performing a public service, really. One smile at a time.”

There was something ridiculously charming about how he just… didn’t care. Theodore was all lightness and laughter, one could argue too much so for a Slytherin.

“I wouldn’t need to drink quite so much sugar if you’d stop glaring at me like I’ve just murdered a puppy.” he teased, bumping your knee lightly under the table. “Honestly, one of these days I’m going to get you to smile before 10 a.m. Just you wait.”

You scoffed, but the warmth in his tone made it impossible to stay annoyed. “You’d have better luck with a Patronus charm.”

"There's a reason why I'm top of the DADA class" Theodore shot back with a cocky grin.

Despite yourself, you felt the corners of your mouth twitching upward, and before you could stop it, a smile crept across your face. Quickly, you took a sip of your coffee to cover it up, but Theodore noticed.

If you saw the way he looked at you, you'd know he was in love then and there. The way he almost melted into your expression, eyebrows almost furrowing as he looks over at you. Just as he opened his mouth, ready to say something - something he wasn’t even sure he was ready to admit to himself- Pansy’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Well, if it isn’t day and night sitting over here,” she chimed, plopping down next to you with a knowing smirk.

“Merlin’s sake, Theo. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” Pansy’s voice broke through, dry and unimpressed as ever.

“I reckon the sugar’s the only thing keeping him tolerable,” Mattheo said, slouching into his chair and eyeing Theodore’s cup with disdain. “Otherwise, we'd have to listen to him drone on about defensive spells without end.”

You snorted into your coffee before you could help it, the sound surprising you. You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up, covering your mouth as you shoot Mattheo a glare that was only half-serious. It was loud - unfiltered and genuine, and when you glanced up, you found Theodore staring at you with that easy smile, his eyes warm and a little too soft. Even with Mattheo’s jab at his expense, Theodore couldn’t bring himself to be mad, not when the sound of your laughter was still ringing in his ears.

“Right, like I’d ever come to you for life advice, Mattheo,” Theodore muttered, finally tearing his gaze away from you, though his grin lingered.

Mattheo shrugged lazily. “Probably shouldn't. I’m a terrible influence."

You let the three of them fall into conversation as you zone out, sipping on your coffee. Their chatter faded into the background as your mind wandered, focusing instead on the upcoming trip. The Astronomy class’s trip to Tromsø was all anyone could talk about lately.

And as the pessimist you were, all you could focus on was how damn cold it was going to be.

--

You were right.

It was cold - too damn cold.

As soon as the group stepped off the train in Tromsø, the icy wind cut through your layers like they were made of parchment. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, teeth chattering despite the heavy coat you wore.

"Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath, glancing around at your classmates as they all shivered in the bitter chill. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Because it’s Norway, and we’re going to see the Northern Lights," Pansy answered with a 'that's so obvious' tone, bundling herself up in a fur-lined coat that looked like it cost more than your entire wardrobe.

You shot her a look. “I don’t care if we’re going to see dragons dancing in the sky. It’s fucking freezing.”

Pansy only rolled her eyes, linking arms with Lorenzo as they trudged ahead through the snow-covered streets. The rest of your group followed suit- Draco, Mattheo, Blaise, and, of course, Theodore- who was surprisingly unfazed by the weather, despite the hideous green scarf he insisted on wearing.

By the time you arrived at the lodge where you were all staying, your fingers were numb and your patience thin. The lodge was quaint, wooden, and cosily tucked away at the edge of the forest, the surrounding snow-capped trees giving it a 'hallmark christmas' charm.

You all shuffled into the common room, where the housekeeper with a rather large bushy moustache greeted you with thick blankets and far too much enthusiasm for someone who lived in such a cold climate. Everyone split off to their rooms, getting settled before heading out for the evening’s stargazing expedition - one you had organised amongst yourselves. You were sharing a room with Pansy, while Theodore was bunking with Blaise.

Once you'd unpacked, you met the group downstairs again. The fire crackled in the hearth as the others talked about what to do before heading out for the night.

Theodore appeared by your side, leaning casually against the arm of the sofa you were sitting on. "So," he started, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, "what do you want to do?"

You frowned at him in confusion. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to do whatever you want to do," he replied simply, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "I don't care. I'll just go along with whatever everyone else is doing."

But Theodore wasn’t having it. "You always say that. C’mon, humor me."

Before you could argue, Mattheo walked past and clapped Theodore on the shoulder. "Come on, Nott, stop making her overthink. Let’s go grab some snacks and freeze our asses off while we wait for the lights," he said, and with that, the group started bundling up again, ready to head out into the freezing night.

--

The sky above was almost too perfect - as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. It almost compensated for the bone numbing chill, the sight of string-light lit stalls far too pretty to make you feel grumpy.

For a while, though.

You trudged along beside Theodore, bundled in so many layers that it felt like your entire body had been wrapped in blankets. The long puffer jacket you wore reached nearly to your knees, and your scarf-wrapped around your neck at least three times-barely left room for your face to peek through. You couldn't help but grumble to yourself, tugging at the edge of your gloves to make sure no skin was exposed to the biting cold.

Theodore, of course, noticed immediately.

"Merlin's beard, you're waddling," he teased. "If you added another layer, you might not be able to walk at all."

You shot him a glare from under your knitted hat. "I'd rather waddle than freeze to death."

He chuckled, eyes flicking over your bundled-up form with an almost too-pleased look on his face. "I don’t know, it’s kind of cute. You look like a disgruntled penguin."

You snorted, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Glad you're entertained."

"Come on," he coaxed, nudging your arm lightly, "I bet under all those layers, you're secretly enjoying this. You’re just too stubborn to admit it."

"Enjoying this?" you asked incredulously, gesturing to the freezing air and the snow-covered ground beneath your feet. "I’m wearing half my wardrobe just to avoid becoming an icicle."

Theodore shrugged, his easy grin never faltering. "Still cute, though."

"You're insufferable, Nott," you muttered, scowling as you slap his arm.

He grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself for pulling that almost-smile out of you.

"Oi! We're gonna go see if we can get some hot chocolate and blankets before we set up for the evening, You guys just guard our spot before someone else grabs it." Blaise yells from a short distance, and Theodore nods as you groan. You wanted to be in the cosy warm lodge - not out here on an isolated ledge in the middle of god-knows where whist your friend traipse around the quaint markets.

You look up, momentarily stunned as the half sarcastic curses that were about to escape your mouth dry out on your tongue. Ripples of greens and blue entwine, seamlessly dancing through the dark that otherwise shrouded the night-sky. It wasn't magic, only charged particles from the sun colliding with gases in Earth's atmosphere, causing them to emit light in vibrant colors, typically seen near the polar regions (courtesy of muggle book you had read on the journey here) but it was nonetheless enchanting.

Surprisingly, your voice broke the silence. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Theodore nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Yeah… it really is.”

There was a brief silence, and when you glanced over, you found Theodore watching you instead of the sky, his expression soft.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, still smiling. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how to make you smile.”

You huffed, turning your gaze back to the sky. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I like seeing it,” he said simply, his voice so sincere it made your stomach flip.

You didn’t respond, the weight of his words lingering in the cold air between you. After a moment, he sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll have to try harder, then.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your tone was more fond than irritated now.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “And you’re stubborn.”

You turned to chastise him, ready with another quip, but the words faltered when you looked up at him. The moonlight caught his features- soft shadows dancing across his sharp jawline, his eyes gleaming with that look that you had seen far too often these past few weeks. His scarf, that hideous green thing, was crooked as always, the ends flapping slightly in the breeze.

Your hands moved instinctively, reaching up to fix it. "This scarf..." you started, your voice trailing off as you focused on straightening it.

Theodore’s gaze never faltered as he watched you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if committing it to memory. "You know, I’m not sure if you actually hate the scarf or if it’s just an excuse to keep touching me."

You scowled, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mumbled, but even you could hear the wavering in your voice.

His smile widened, but he didn’t say anything more, just stood there.

Before you knew what you were doing, you tugged him closer by the scarf, pulling him toward you. "This hideous scarf of yours," you muttered under your breath, using it as a flimsy excuse to hide the fact that you were really just closing the gap between you.

Theodore’s eyes flickered down to your lips, his breath fogging in the cold air between you. And then, without another word, you closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But the second his lips moved against yours, something inside you shifted. It was slow, unhurried, his hands gently cradling your face as if he had all the time in the world. The cold air disappeared entirely, replaced by the warmth of his touch, his closeness, and the feeling of him - consuming you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, Theodore’s eyes were still on you, that stupid smile of his making your knees weak.

"You didn’t even fix the scarf," he whispered, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, but you couldn’t fight the grin that broke through. "Shut up."

But Theodore only laughed, leaning in again to steal another kiss.

Your gloved hands came up, fisting the thick wool of his jacket as you-

“Finally!” Pansy’s dry tone rang out, followed by the sound of scattered applause.

You and Theodore broke apart, startled, only to find the rest of your group approaching, grinning like idiots.

“What the-?” you began, but Blaise interrupted, holding up a handful of galleons.

“We made a bet on how long it’d take for you two to finally snog," he said with a grin, pocketing the winnings. "I was getting worried."

Your face burned, and your grumpy demeanor returned in full force as you glared at them all. "I hate every single one of you."

But before you could storm off, Theodore just chuckled, pulling you into his side with a warmth that made it hard to stay annoyed. "Don’t worry," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, "they’re just jealous."

Grumbling under your breath, you leaned into him as the group settled down.

Perhaps it wasn't all too bad.

[amirasainz]

Hi, can you do a daniel x heidi × reader where the girls come drunk from a party and danny has to take care of them at home

Wait, why is this my favourite throuple to write for currently??? This is my first time writing this ship and I love it?!?!?

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

Girls night

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the quiet streets of Monaco. Daniel had opted for a chill night at home, the soothing hum of the city fading in the background while his girlfriends, Heidi and YN, decided to paint the town red. The two girls had been excitedly preparing for a night out, laughter and playful banter echoing from the bathroom as they got ready.

“You know what I could really go for?” YN asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she rummaged through Heidi's makeup drawer. “A shot of tequila!”

“Tequila? It’s like you want to wake up with a hangover,” Heidi laughed, sliding on a pair of heels. “But fine, let’s go crazy tonight! Just don’t tell Daniel!”

Daniel, lounging on the couch, chuckled to himself as he overheard their conversation. He had come to expect these kinds of antics from the girls. Their infectious energy always kept him on his toes. “Have fun, ladies! Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he called out, settling into his comfy spot.

Hours passed as Daniel lost himself in a Netflix binge, but as the clock ticked closer to midnight, he began to worry. He picked up his phone to check the time again. “Where are they?” he muttered, glancing at the door as if it would magically open to reveal the two.

He decided to text Heidi. “Hey, hope you’re having fun! Just checking in. Everything good?”

A few minutes passed, and Daniel’s heart raced with anxiety. The last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to them. Just as he was about to text again, he heard the familiar sound of keys jangling, followed by raucous laughter. The door swung open, and there stood YN and Heidi, stumbling in, their cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Surprise!” YN yelled, nearly losing her balance as she twirled around. “We’re back!”

Heidi giggled, leaning against the wall for support. “And we brought back… fun!”

Daniel shook his head with a relieved smile, though he couldn’t hide his concern. “You both look like you had a little too much fun. How many shots did you take?”

“Shots?” YN squealed, her voice an octave higher. “I lost count after six! But I could go for more! Danny, you should join us!”

“Um, I think I’ll pass. I’m more of a ‘chill at home’ guy,” he replied, trying to steer the conversation. But the girls were already lost in their own world.

Heidi suddenly flung her arms around YN from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder. “I just want to cuddle you forever,” she murmured, her words slightly slurred but filled with affection.

“Cuddle party!” YN shouted, breaking free from Heidi’s embrace. She darted towards the balcony, eyes wide with excitement. “Let’s go look at the stars! Come on, Danny!”

“YN, wait!” Daniel called out, springing to his feet. “You can’t just run outside like that!”

“Too late!” she laughed, swinging the balcony door open and stepping outside, arms raised as if embracing the night. “I’m flying! Look at me, I’m a bird!”

Daniel rushed after her, his protective instincts kicking in. “YN, come back! You’re going to fall!”

Heidi, now seated on the couch, was watching with wide eyes, tears forming. “She’s not in my arms anymore! Daniel, go get her!”

“I’m trying!” Daniel shouted back, panic rising in his chest as he stepped onto the balcony, catching YN just as she leaned dangerously over the railing. “Hey, hey! Let’s not go overboard, alright? Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

“But the stars are so pretty!” YN whined, her enthusiasm unwavering. “You just don’t understand!”

“Okay, I don’t, but I do understand that it’s past midnight, and you’re not exactly sober right now,” he said, gently but firmly guiding her back inside.

As they stepped into the living room, Heidi had already started crying. “You were gone! I thought I lost you!” she sobbed, her arms opening wide. YN, feeling the comfort of Heidi's warmth, leaped into her embrace.

“I’m right here, silly! Don’t cry!” YN giggled, snuggling into Heidi’s chest. “You’re the best cuddler ever!”

Daniel watched the scene unfold, a mix of exhaustion and amusement washing over him. “Alright, let’s get you two to bed,” he said, moving closer to them. “I think it’s time for a sleepover.”

“Sleepover!” YN cheered, the energy back in her voice. “But I wanna sleep with Heidi!”

“Okay, okay,” Daniel said, managing to get both girls into the bedroom. YN immediately crawled onto the bed, pulling Heidi down with her. “Cuddle me, Heidi! I’m cold!”

Daniel sighed, pulling the blanket up over them. “You’re going to have to settle down now, okay? It’s time for sleep,” he said, turning to leave the room.

Heidi looked up at him with a sleepy smile, her hair tousled. “Daniel, you can’t just leave me like this. I need you too!” she said, her voice softening.

“Right, but I’m kind of… tired. Plus, you two need your space,” he replied, glancing at YN, who was already starting to doze off, nestled against Heidi.

“Nope,” Heidi declared, her tone suddenly firm as she pointed toward the living room. “You need to sleep on the couch. I want to cuddle YN on my own.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope! My cuddles, my rules!” she said, snuggling into YN. “Now go!”

“Alright, alright, you win this round,” Daniel laughed, giving in. “But if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As he settled down on the couch, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He could hear the muffled giggles of the girls through the wall. This was certainly not how he imagined his night would go, but in the end, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a loud crash from the bedroom. “Heidi! YN! What was that?” He shot up, ready to rush back in.

“Just a pillow fight!” YN shouted, her voice echoing through the house.

“Seriously?” Daniel called out, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Pillow fight! Come join us!” Heidi urged, laughter bubbling in her tone.

“Forget it! You two are on your own,” he yelled, flopping back onto the couch with a grin. “This is going to be one long night.”

And as he lay there, the sounds of laughter and playful bickering filled the air, he knew he wouldn’t trade this chaotic love for anything. After all, this was what life was all about: racing hearts, silly nights, and the warmth of those you loved most.

[issi-loves-dannyric]

You Belong With Me- Ollie Bearman

a/n: I'm a year older than Ollie so that's why I wrote it. One day this will be taken down as will all my other writings but at least not for a while. (personal choice cause yk work and everything) -Im tagging this as F1 since he's signed to Haas.

Summary: best friends to lovers, Ollie is too dumb to realize he's in love

angst ish with fluff

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“She’s coming to a race” excitedly says to me while we walk in the paddock. 

“That's great!” I say faking enthusiasm, if he weren’t distracted by the girl he’s talking to he would’ve caught that I wasn’t happy. 

“I think I’m going to ask her out on a real date” he adds making my heart hurt a little more. 

“Yeah, that’s great. Hey, I’m going to go see some friends.” I say turning towards where Paul was standing on his phone. 

“Yeah-“ he says but is cut off by another message. Rolling my eyes I make my way towards the blonde. Feeling my presence coming up to him he looks up from his phone smiling. 

“Don’t see much of you without Ollie” he says smirking and opens his arms for a hug which I accept immediately. 

“Yeah he wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’s talking to  so figured might as well see some friends”

“Oh yeah, he talks about her all the time. I’ve met her before and she’s kinda…” he trails off

“A bitch”

“I didn’t say it but I’m not disagreeing” putting his hands up in defense. 

“No yeah, she definitely is a bitch and doesn’t like me.”

“Probably cause you and Ollie have a history” 

“He’s my best friend, of course, there’s history”

“Yeah…” before he could add anything Kimi and Dino were joining us making Paul drop the topic. 

2 months later

I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night-

“Ollie, what are you doing” I call out my window looking down at the boy who had spammed me to open my window. 

“I’ve barely heard from you for the past 2 months” he replies looking hurt. 

“Yeah…sorry” the last part being quiet.

“Are we going to talk like this or are you going to let me in?” He asks, sighing I push myself away going down to let him in quietly as possible. 

“Ollie it’s midnight” I whisper as we go towards my room door, allowing him to walk in before me to shut it. 

“I know but since when did it matter?” He replies lowly with a small tentative smile. 

“Since it’s been months from the last time you came over late or even had a full conversation,” I reply turning away, sitting on my bed. 

“Yeah” I could just barely hear, “just…I don’t know” he sighed staring at his feet. Looking at his face he’s trying to figure out what to say or do. 

“Something’s wrong” I state, patting the bed, “come here” making him look up at me. 

“I think she’s cheating on me, she’s just so different from me” he sighs referring to his girlfriend who has hated me for a while now. 

“Do you have proof?” I ask, although we don’t get along, she doesn’t deserve to be accused of something she didn’t do. 

“Kind of, I guess. Just she’s messaging her ex still, I think she went out with him today. Well, I know she did because of the photos.”

“Damn Ollie, that sucks,” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. “Are you going to do something about it?” I question 

“I’m going to confront her and see where it goes.” 

“Smart move” I replied looking up at him who was still avoiding eye contact. “Is there more?” Watching him fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry for not being around” he quietly voice breaking a little. 

“It's fine, you were busy with your new life.” I reply not meaning to be petty but he did ghost me, his “best friend”. He finally looked up at me with glossy eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m proud of you no matter what” smiling softly at him even with my own eyes feeling pricks of tears. Reaching out to his face I wipe his tears away with the hoodie holding his cheeks. Putting his hand on mine, keeping me from letting go of him, “I don’t want to lose you, I feel like I already did” sobbed holding my hand even tighter. Moving my hand to him, leaning on the pillow behind me. 

I’m the one that makes you laugh when you know you’re 'bout to cry. 

“I’m not leaving, at least not all the way” feeling him hold onto me even tighter, “I’ll always support you, Ollie. You can always text or call me if you need to.” I tell him while running my fingers through his hair, feeling my tears sliding down my face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Bearman,” I say trying to lighten the mood, earning a small chuckle from him. Pulling out of my hold, wiping his tears, “I should probably go before my parents realize I'm not there” He says getting up towards the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll lock the door behind you so mine don’t think I just left the house open for robbers,” I say with a small smile. 

“I mean it, you can text or call me anytime, you know I will try my best to answer.” I remind him at the door. 

“I‘ll remember,” he says pulling me into one last tight hug. 

All this time how could you not know

Looking down at my phone I just got a notification,

Ollie: I was right, she just admitted it and didn’t think she was wrong since I travel. 

Sighing I respond 

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ollie. At least you found out now.’ 

Going back to whatever movie was playing on the living room TV. My parents are off on a date meaning I get to have the house to myself, although it’s not as fun as it seems when you’re alone. My phone's insistent vibration distracts me, realizing that a call vibration I pick it up not glancing at the caller. 

“Hello”

“Hey…” Ollie’s voice comes through barely, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore really. I just miss you so much and this situation made me realize something.” He quickly lets out. 

“Ollie I never said I didn’t want to be in your life at all.” I reason

“Are you home?” He says sniffling. 

“Yeah, parents are out” 

“I need to come over” 

“Okay,” I reply quietly before hanging up.  

You belong with me. Have you ever thought, just maybe you belong with me?

Ollie's knocks were loud and fast making me get out faster walking to the door. The second I open the door, he puts his hand on my cheeks. 

“I want to kiss you” he mumbles leaning down slightly from the height difference. “Can I?” He breaths out 

“Yeah,” I say feeling heat on my cheeks now but quickly distracted by his lips on mine. Kissing him back I put my hands on the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Letting go realizing he’s rebounding, “What was that, Ollie?” I ask genuinely confused. 

“I’m sorry, I love you and it took that relationship for me to realize it.” 

“Still confused” 

“She said the reason she didn’t see the issue of her cheating was because I was in love with you the whole time. I thought she was crazy until I realized I compared her to you. Like the things you knew I liked or how you went out of your way to make me happy.” He paused putting one hand on my cheek again forcing me to look him in the eyes, “She’s right, I do love you more than just my best friend.” He finishes 

“Ollie” I whisper shocked by what he explained to me. 

“Please just give me a chance” he replied 

“I can’t be your rebound, Ollie. My feelings for you are real and I don’t want to be hurt.” I warn him. 

“You’re not a rebound I promise,” he says seriously. 

“Okay,” I reply causing him to smile slightly. 

“Okay?” 

“Prove you will try, Ollie,” I tell him, he lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his lips to mine. Accepting the kiss quickly but I pull away making him confused. “As much as I would like to kiss you in my front doorway so my whole neighborhood could see. I also have a movie playing so are you coming in or what?” I tell him, smiling widely, he accepts my invitation following me to sit on the couch. Curling up into him like we used to do, this time there’s no feeling of confusion about whether he likes me or not. 

You belong with me

“You know you’ve watched this hundreds of times.” He states referring to Coraline playing. 

“Yeah, and I’ll watch it a hundred more times.” I smile looking up at him. Pulling my face closer he started to kiss me again, this time I didn’t stop it, or at least for a moment until realizing I could hear my parents coming in through the garage. Letting go I shift to have my head on his chest with my right arm wrapped around his stomach. 

“Hey Ollie” they calmly say walking by us before going towards the stairs, “Oh hey try not to kiss in front of the whole neighborhood next time.” Before going up. Making me giggle remembering the cameras that watch the front door. 

“I forgot about the cameras,” he says embarrassed. 

“Yeah…me too” I added. 

[pnghoon]

chatterbox !!

(🗣) ── 𝓛EE HEESEUNG [희승] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, crack, humor, high school au, drabbleㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warning : est. relationship, not proofread, kissingㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol loser bf !hee 𝔁 fem gf !reader ㅤㅤᯓ ꒰ wc : 473꒱ ㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which your nerdy bf can't seem to shut up !! ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ hey guys !! saur sorry for barely getting anything out this week :(( been so busy trying to balance my life, it's kinda hard to add writing into the equation sobs i'll prob be updating slower now since i have to prepare for school and stuff ..this drabble is like a little gift from me while i'm a little inactive hehe--if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

you were sure that if talking were a sport, heeseung would be an olympic gold medalist. his mouth had been running nonstop for the past hour as you both sat in the otherwise quiet library.

at this rate you were starting to lose track of whatever intricate video game strategy he was explaining--something about leveling up, defeating bosses, and… cowboys?

you leaned in closer, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him. he was truly an adorable sight, with his messy hair and round glasses that slid down his nose bridge every five minutes.

but sometimes, heeseung’s enthusiasm meant he could go on and on, losing track of time in the process.

“…and then, if you take the left route, you can ambush the other team from behind–” heeseung continued, doe eyes wide with excitement. his voice was a steady stream of strategies and character stats, completely oblivious to your half-hearted attempts to try and interject.

“heeseung,” you mumbled out softly, but he didn’t seem to hear you, too engrossed in his own world.

“and then, if you use the secret code--”

“heeseung!” you repeated, a bit louder this time, but he still didn’t seem to budge with his sea of endless words.

with a sigh, you closed your textbook and leaned over. desperate times called for desperate measures. grabbing the collar of his shirt, you tugged him closer and pressed your lips to his in one swift motion.

heeseung froze, his monologue cut off abruptly. the surprised squeak he let out was both adorable and hilarious, his eyes wide behind his round glasses.

the kiss was soft, sweet, and just long enough to send his heart racing. when you pulled back, he was staring at you, his face a shade of pink you’ve only ever seen in cartoons.

“w-what was that for?” he stammered, eyes wide and lips still parted in shock.

“you talk too much,” you answered, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “i had to find a way to shut you up.”

heeseung's mouth opened and closed a couple times like a fish out of water, clearly flustered.

“i-i wasn't talking that much,” he muttered out, though the way the tips of his ears were burning said otherwise.

“mhm, sure,” you teased, poking his cheek. “you're cute when you're all nerdy and passionate, but sometimes you need a little break.”

he pouted softly, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his lips. “so, does this mean you'll kiss me every time i talk too much?”

you pretended to think about it for a moment before nodding. “yep, every time.”

heeseung's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, a cute grin plastered on his lips as his hand reached out to cup your cheeks.

“then i guess i'll have to talk a lot more.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[unsolvedjarin]

omg after reading part two of the mentor!seb x ferrari driver!reader fic i NEED something where he actually tries to play matchmaker for reader and mick😭 Like him giving so many hints but reader is just oblivious and Seb decides to take matter into his own hands yk?

Only if you’re open to it ofc! 🥰🥰

BEES, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

pairing: (mick schumacher x driver! reader) (mentor! sebastian vettel x reader)

note: HEY. i havent written anything in weeks and its been KILLING me. ive been so burnt out lately its crazy, but seeing seb in suzuka did give me a bit of motivation (although this is more of a mick-centric fic, my boy deserves it.) anyways sorry for letting this stew for so long anon, hopefully i can write more soon ive missed it tbh

summary: suzuka finds itself not only an interesting spot for bee hotels, but for reunions and confrontations as well.

content warning: none, except its a little all over the place and once again i havent grammar checked this im so sorry it’s three in the morning

previous part, but can be read without <3

When Sebastian invited the grid to his bee hotel opening, he expected maybe five or six people to come, but not this.

Everyone was coming.

And by everyone, I mean everyone. The drivers, the reserves, even the team principals, had all confirmed their appearance for the event. Sebastian knew he was loved by the grid, but the thought of all of them coming together for him still made his heart swell.

It was one in the afternoon, just thirty minutes before they were about to actually start the event. While the participation of the drivers were confirmed, they were still coming in one by one, some later than the others. Sebastian was in a particularly interesting conversation with Fernando about flowers when a poke to his shoulder captured his attention.

He turned around to find you, standing there behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with excitement you couldn’t contain. It was the first time you’ve seen each other since Silverstone, and even then you barely had time to talk to each other.

Before he could say anything, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight that Sebastian thought he would lose oxygen— but he still hugged you back with equal enthusiasm.

“Sebastian!” you screamed, being spun around once by the man. He missed you so much. Sebastian wasn’t particularly the greatest texter, and calling wasn’t something you were fond of, so besides the occasional visit you barely talked.

“Y/N, I thought you’d never come,” he says with a grin. He knew you were coming, of course. You would never miss out on this. You give him a playful shove, before giving Fernando a quick hug as well. In the year Seb has been gone, you had gotten closer with the Aston Martin driver who replaced him.

Fernando excuses himself quickly after, knowing you and Sebastian had some catching up to do. “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me with him,” Sebastian jokes the second the Spaniard was out of earshot.

“Why, are you jealous?” you teased. He scoffs in reply, but you could hear the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t worry Seb, while I love his talk about flowers, you talking my ear off about bees still appeals to me more.”

That makes him smile.

“I’m glad you prefer my infodumping, then.”

The fact that you taught him that term makes your grin even wider. “Anytime.”

You wanted to talk with him more, to tell him how you’ve been doing the past few months, but before you could, some PR person swooped in to film some videos with him.

“Ah, sorry liebling,” Sebastian sighs. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “One thing I haven’t missed are these media hungry people.”

You stifle a giggle, before nudging him away from you. “Go on, it’s your event, this is your own doing.”

He rolls his eyes but walks away nonetheless, following the person from the media. Before he moves out of earshot, however, he shouts, “Oh by the way, Mick is here! Don’t be shy, go talk to him.”

Oh the bastard.

Half the grid must have heard that. You look at him with shock and a light blush on your cheeks but are met only with a cheeky grin from the man before he turns around to fully walk away.

Admittedly though, he was right. You hadn’t been talking to Mick much. You had a few lunches with him after Seb retired but without his third wheeling company, it just felt awkward to go out with the reserve driver one on one. You started thinking he just ate with you because he felt bad for you or something of the sort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snaps you out of your thinking.

“Jesus! Lewis, don’t give me a heart attack like that.”

The Mercedes driver laughs before replying, “Sorry, you just looked tense. Thinking about the race?”

“Not really, just some other stuff.”

“Like what? Like Mick?”

You almost choked on your own saliva right there and then. “Wh- what? What would— haha— make you think that? No that’s crazy, I’m just thinking about the bees! Yeah, because like the bee hotel and stuff I love b—”

“Sebastian wasn’t really quiet talking to you just then, you know.” He comments, cutting you off.

“Oh I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt it, you’ve missed him too much these past months to kill him immediately.”

“Touché, maybe I’ll wait a few more then.”

“Stop avoiding the question, why’re you thinking about Mick?” Lewis asks, not giving the topic up. Oh what the hell, Sebastian trusts him right? So you could trust him.

Thinking of how you could word your thoughts properly, you start, “I kinda— I dunno— I mean he’s a nice guy, he’s pretty sweet, and we’re friends obviously so it’d be—”

“You like him don’t you.” Lewis cuts you off for the second time in a row.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he sighs, letting it linger for a moment. “That’s crazy.”

A beat of silence passes. “You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Say anything else about what?” Sebastian butts in your conversation, clearly just having finished his short interview. He takes his place beside you, scooching in between you and Lewis instead of taking up the free space on the other side.

“Oh, Y/N was just talking about how she likes Mick.”

“Was not!” You exclaim.

“Was too,” Lewis retorts. His teasing never ceased to amuse and annoy you at the same time.

“I think I’m going to believe Lewis on this one. After all, you did tell me, and I quote, you ‘sorta have a little maybe crush’ on Mick.”

You hang your mouth agape incredulously before slapping Seb on the arm, “I told you that in confidence!”

Seb laughs before defending himself, “Well Lewis knows now! Besides, it’s not like you’ve been that discrete about it.”

You look at Lewis who shrugs in reply, “It’s true. Pretty obvious when a Ferrari driver keeps hanging around the Mercedes garage, mate.”

Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. There’s no point in keeping it secret from Lewis now, you think. Putting your head in your hands, you groan, “That’s the problem! I’m always at the Mercedes garage talking to you or Toto or even George but never him!”

“Well why don’t you…talk to him?”

“Great advice Sherlock, gee, got any more good ones for me?” You ask Sebastian sarcastically. While you and Seb banter though, Lewis recalls a conversation he had with Mick one late night back in Singapore.

“Hey Lew, was Y/N here earlier?”

Lewis, who was packing up to go home, redirects his focus to the only remaining guy in the garage save for a few engineers. “Yeah, she visited right after the race to congratulate me. Why’re you looking for her?”

“Oh nothing, just asking.” Mick replies, fiddling with his hands. Even in his tired state, Lewis could tell that there was more the young driver wasn’t saying.

“C’mon, spit it out.” Lewis says, taking a seat on a random chair and patting the one beside him for Mick to take a seat. The younger driver hesitates for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than anyone. Do you know what happened when Alonso crashed his McLaren back in 2015?”

“No, what?”

“Exactly,” Lewis replies with a grin. “So what is it?”

“I…” Mick sighs, unable to find the right words for what he was trying to say. “I think I like Y/N.”

There, it’s out in the open, he thinks. Mick waits for a reply from Lewis, but gets none. “Hello?”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay, this is starting to scare me.”

Lewis finally snaps out of his trance-like state, before getting up and continuing to pack up his things. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well I thought it’d be something more secretive,” he says, putting up bunny ears.

“It is secretive,” Mick replies, mocking Lewis’ bunny ears. “No one knows.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that mate. I mean if you exclude Sebastian, Fernando, Toto, and myself, then sure, no one knows.”

Oh shit. Was he that obvious? “How- how did you all figure it out?”

“Well for one, if constantly tailing Sebastian and Y/N last year was your attempt at being discreet, then it was a horrible attempt. Second, you need to stop turning red and running away whenever she’s at the garage giving out food and what not. I can’t keep asking her for extra donuts for you forever, you know?”

Mick blushed slightly at the comment, not realizing how every time you came around to the garage he’d been unwillingly avoiding you out of fear you wouldn’t want to talk to him.

Lewis pats Mick on the back, getting ready to leave. “Listen man, if I were you, I’d make a move. That opportunity won’t last forever, plus, it seems like they like you back. Didn’t you guys go out together just the two of you a couple of times?”

Mick shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I think she did that just because she felt bad for me being alone in the grid and because she missed Sebastian.”

Lewis internally rolled his eyes. He’s seen the way you look at Mick, there’s no way you didn’t like him too. “You have to stop doubting yourself. I mean the worst she can do is say no, right?”

“The worst she can do is avoid me for the rest of my life because I misread all the signs and she actually hates me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lewis replied sarcastically, before murmuring a goodbye and leaving the garage.

That was weeks ago now, but the conversation was still stuck in Lewis’ head. He’d been right all along, you did like Mick back.

“Hey Seb, can I talk to you in private really quickly?” He speaks up, making you and the retired driver stop your bantering for a moment.

“You can say it in front of Y/N, it’s fine.” Seb replied. He trusted you completely with anything and everything.

“Well not if it’s about her.”

“Hey!” you complain. “Are you openly gossiping about me?”

“Listen, if you want our help, then let us huddle for a minute.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and nod at them. You really really liked Mick, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So if these two old twats could help you, then so be it.

Lewis pulls Seb to the side for a moment, inhaling deeply before talking softly so you couldn’t hear. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mick told me he likes Y/N.”

Sebastian whips his head to face Lewis, “Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going out with us all the time last year for no reason.”

“Yeah, he’s not so discreet. Here’s the problem though, he firmly believes Y/N may hate him, and you know that Y/N believes Mick only likes her as a friend.”

“So what you’re saying is they’re both hopeless?”

“Without our help, basically yes.”

“God I can’t believe they haven’t caught a clue,” Sebastian sighs. “I even excused myself from multiple meals so I could leave the two of them alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re telling me mate, I basically had to shove Mick towards her whenever she was at the garage or in hospitality.”

Meanwhile, while the two men were devising on their own, you were getting antsy. What could they possibly be coming up with? You didn’t really want to think about it too much, so you decided to take a walk around the track. After all, the event was about to start, so you might as well familiarize yourself with your surroundings.

You went through the unpainted bee hotels, admiring their woodwork and the effort it must’ve taken to make them. Sebastian had sent you a text at three in the morning yesterday saying “Finished! :-)” with a picture of the bee hotels attached, so you knew he put hard work into this project. You were happy that he was doing something he loved while retired, but at the same time you missed him terribly on the grid. It was lonely, you will admit, without him by your side. Sure you had your teammate Charles and the support of your fellow drivers, but it never felt like anyone truly knew you on the track besides Seb.

Stuck in your thoughts, you failed to notice the man who was walking up behind you mustering the courage to strike a conversation. You turn around to check out another bee hotel when you bump straight into Mick walking up to you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Ow—” you hold your head in pain, which you bumped into the bee hotel roof when you recoiled backwards from the hit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Great, Mick thought. Now what?

You’ve made a fool of yourself, congratulations, you thought.

Sebastian was about to walk over to see what all the commotion was about, when Lewis put a hand out and stopped him. “Look who bumped into her.”

Sebastian squinted a little— his eyesight had gotten worse but he refused to get glasses— and grins when he realizes who it is. “Best leave them to it then, I have an event to organize anyways.”

Meanwhile, Mick had no clue what to do. You were holding your head in pain, with your eyes closed trying to regain stability from the dizziness, and he was just standing there awkwardly trying to figure out what the right move was. Should he ask you again if you were alright? Should he hold you to stabilize you?

Well, why not both. Without thinking, he holds your shoulders, crouching down a little to look you in your eye, and asking a simple “You okay?”

You open your eyes, squinting because of the sun, and are met with a set of beautiful blue ones staring at you. Holy fucking shit. Now you don't know what to do.

“Uh— yeah, just hit my head. No biggie honestly, all good here,” you reply awkwardly. God, was it this hard to talk to him when Sebastian was around?

Mick lets go of your shoulders— you miss his touch already— and straightens up, nodding. “Good. Sorry for hitting you, I thought you heard me walking up.”

“No, it’s my fault honestly. Was stuck in my own thoughts. Nice that you pulled me out,” you joked, praying to whatever higher power was listening that it stuck.

Thankfully it did, and Mick let out a small giggle at your quip. It was enough for your stomach to do flips. And even though you had no clue, you joking around with him made his stomach do the same thing too. The simple interaction was enough to make him think that maybe you weren’t just hanging around with him before because you pitied him.

“You know,” Mick starts, before he loses confidence to breach the topic. He was here anyway, so might as well. “You’re always at the Mercedes garage but I never see you. I am sorry about that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? You were the one who avoided him out of nervousness whenever you were there.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, honestly, that’s my fault anyway. Same with our lunches before, I’m sorry we did those less and less. I guess I got too caught up in the races. We should have another one here in Japan!” You add the last part haphazardly, not really thinking about what you’re saying because if you do you’ll lose confidence.

It was too late when you realized what you said, and terrified to see Mick’s reaction to the invitation, you stare at anything but him. Wow, the sky was blue today. How interesting.

Mick, on the other hand, was frozen on the spot. Did he hear that correctly? Were you inviting him to lunch for the first time in months?

Before the reserve driver could get his hopes up, however, he realized what was different this time. Sebastian was around.

Oh. Maybe that was the only reason you invited him this time around. Because, again, like before, you felt sorry for him being alone and you had the confidence to ask him because Sebastian was here.

“Would…Sebastian be coming?” He asked. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he begged God at that moment you would say no. He had nothing against the retired driver of course, he was like an uncle to him, but it would determine— for him at least— if you were going out with him out of pity or because you actually wanted to.

You, on the other hand, had a completely different interpretation of that question.

Did Mick not want to have lunch with you without Sebastian because he didn’t want to spend time with you? Did he feel like you were too awkward? Too weird? You stopped yourself before you could spiral even more.

“I mean, do you want him to?”

“Honestly? No.” Mick hears himself say without thinking. His eyes widened a bit at the fact that he said that aloud, making you giggle. It lifts the tension a bit and the air feels freer talking to him.

“Tsk tsk, I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Please don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. I just meant—” Mick pauses for a second, finding it difficult to word his thoughts.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it all. “I want it to be you, just you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.” Before Mick can regret saying anything and repeatedly apologize for the implications of what he said, you tug on his shirt a little to get him to look at you. “Me too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, laughing a bit at himself. “Thank god, I thought I made the wrong move there.”

“God no,” you laugh out. “I’m glad you said that honestly, I thought you just hung out with me before for Sebastian.”

Mick raised his eyebrows in confusion. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? “I thought you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad I was alone without Seb.”

This time you both look at each other, confused. You had both gotten it completely wrong.

The absurdity of it all makes you burst out laughing, and you try to cover it up with your hand but to no avail. “I’m sorry I just— ha!— I can’t believe I’ve been reading it wrong this whole time! I even avoided you in the garages because I thought you felt awkward around me.”

“I hid whenever you were at the garage because I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me,” Mick replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, I suppose I wouldn’t ever know if you liked talking to me or not if I kept avoiding you.”

“Hold on, is that why Lewis always asked for extra food when I came around?”

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling embarrassed. It all felt so foolish now.

“That was stupid,” you tease. “So…what now?”

“I suppose we can just,” Mick gestures aimlessly with his hands. “Restart.”

You smile at him, liking the simplicity of the idea. After dancing around each other for a year, this is exactly what you wanted. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“What you were saying earlier, lunch? I know a good place. It’s pretty far from the track, but they have the best ramen and— hello Seb…?”

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian had slowly inched himself closer to where you two were standing, trying to overhear your conversation. He was now stood a few meters away from you, pretending to be taking care of his bee hotel.

“You sneaky bastard!” you exclaim, slapping him on his shoulder for the second time that day. “How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“I just got here!” Sebastian replied, trying to defend himself. He’d actually been standing there for a couple minutes, but if none of you had noticed, then it was better for him to not bring it up. “Anyway, I came to say we’re starting the event. Charles is looking for you at the Ferrari station, Y/N.”

Sebastian moves to leave, but turns back around, standing beside you. “And Mick, if it’s no bother, you could come with me and Y/N to Disneyland on Tuesday. Only if you’d like, of course.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?” You ask, but a quick glance at Sebastian's expression and you realize what he was trying to do. “Oh! Yeah, we totally planned on going to Disneyland. You should come with us.”

“Yeah! Sure, I have nothing to do anyways. And lunch on Monday, Y/N?” Mick replies. You give him a soft smile and nod in response.

Seb looks at you in confusion, “Am I part of these lunch plans?”

“No.”

“Great to know. Anyways, to the Ferrari station liebe, chop chop,” Seb retorts, putting his arm around you to pull you towards the station. As much as he wanted you and Mick to talk more, he also wanted his event to get going.

“Talk later!” you shout, being practically dragged by Sebastian. Mick laughs at the sight, waving a goodbye to you and the retired driver. He felt like he won the lottery. You might not like him the way he liked you, but this was a start. This meant that you hung around him for him.

“Was the plan you and Lewis came up with simply inviting Mick to go to Disneyland?” You ask, the second you were far away enough from Mick.

Sebastian shrugs, “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh you pricks. Thank God I didn’t rely on you two then.”

“Hey! We tried,” Seb remarked. “But we saw you two getting along without our help so we decided to leave you two to it. What did you even talk about?”

“Our shared hatred for you,” you replied with no hesitation. You look over at Sebastian with a grin, watching him roll his eyes, smiling.

“Well if that’s what it took for you two to talk, then I’d happily be the butt of your conversations.”

God. Why did he have to be so nice about it? “I’m just kidding Seb, we just cleared up some misunderstandings. Honestly we should’ve talked sooner, it was such a relief to find out I’d just been overthinking our interactions.”

“Like you do with half of all things, schatz,” Sebastian says softly, smiling at you. He was right, you did overthink too much.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m trying to change.”

“That’s great, but you know what you should try first before that?” Seb asks with a playful look on his face. He comes to a stop in front of a bee hotel and grabs a paintbrush from beside it, putting it in your hands. “You should try participating in the event.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you mutter, grinning. You didn’t even notice you had walked all the way to the Ferrari station until then. You greet Charles, who was already there, before facing Sebastian again. “Still can’t believe you and Lewis’ plan was just Disneyland. Remind me to never trust you ever again.”

“Love you too,” Seb retorts sarcastically, grinning as he walks away to assist the other drivers. You shake your head with a smile, before facing the bee hotel again. Cheeky bastard.

Sebastian and Lewis had planned more than just Disneyland of course, they weren’t stupid. But the first phase of their plan was complete. Sebastian smiled to himself as he watched Mick talking to Lewis at the Mercedes station, ready to operate the second part of their ‘genius’ plan.

It was going to be a long, interesting week for all of them.

[mothwingwritings]

I kind of would like to see a yandere Katsumi with a breeding kink. I’m usually the one to write him with one, but I’d like to see the way one of my favorite writers would write him ❤️

Anything for you, my darling! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ I missed writing for our dear boy. <3 Also, you know his ass would be *so* sly about it. This man isn’t gonna stop until your body is a veritable child making factory, irrevocably binding you to him whether you want to be or not. :)

WARNINGS:  Breeding kink, lots of mentions of babies (making/rearing) and pregnancy, dubcon, Katsumi blatantly lying to you and manipulating you to get what he wants for ‘your own good’ (of course :D).

NSFW so 18+ only please and thank you!!!

~

It had been several days since you saw Katsumi, a weekend trip to see your family taking you away from him for the past three nights. Judging by his reaction when you walked through the door however, you would have thought months or possibly years had gone by since you last embraced, as he was on you before you even had the chance to give him a proper greeting.

“Missed you so much baby,” he murmured in between heated kisses, his hungry mouth moving from your lips to trail sloppy kisses across your cheek and down your neck, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

You giggled at his enthusiasm, pushing on him a little in an attempt to get him to ease up. “I missed you too Katsu, but can I at least make it two steps inside before I am assaulted with affection, please?”

“Impossible.” He responded simply, hoisting you up from the floor.  After he had successfully scooped you into his arms, he gave a small twirl, causing you to laugh harder. He made an exaggerated hustle to the living room, hauling you in tow. Gently he plopped you down on the plush sofa, making sure you were comfortable before positioning himself above you.

“There, happy?” he smiled, giving you a small kiss on the nose, “Now that you are safely and securely inside, do I have permission to continue?”

You sighed dramatically, giving a playful roll of your eyes. “Geez, you sure are needy today! But I suppose I can oblige your request just this once. Besides…” Your hand traveled up to cup his cheek, your thumb gently stroking his smooth skin as he leaned into you, savoring your touch. “It may have only been a few days, but you weren’t the only one feeling lonely.”

He took your words as an invitation to draw nearer, his warm smile radiating down on you as he pressed his lips to yours once more. Sweet, delicate kisses were quick to grow deeper, the intensity steadily increasing as you both sought to lose yourselves in each other.

…And you figured that would be the end of it. A hot and heavy make out session to welcome you back followed by cuddles, questions about the trip, updates on what happened while you were gone, and then maybe a very well deserved nap.

But Katsumi kept going, his hand slowly creeping under your shirt and across your stomach, stopping to paw at your chest. You gasped slightly at the sensation, causing him to release a pleased hum.

“Sensitive today, are we?” He teased you, his groping growing more feverish as he fed off your reaction. You whined as he pushed your shirt up past your chest, your bra following directly after, giving him free access to your bare chest. A chuckle rumbled from within him as his fingers pressed into your supple skin, your body twitching as his palms ghosted your nipples, thoroughly enjoying watching the reactions his subtle toying yielded. “You say I’m the needy one, but look how you are pressing against me, seeking me out. Even if you didn’t use your words to tell me how much you missed me, your body would have given you away.”

“Katsu” you hissed, squirming under each stroke of his hand, “please, can’t we at least wait till after I’ve settled in some?”

“This is settling you in,” he smiled, working until the top half of your clothing had been completely discarded on the floor. “How much more settled can you be than here in my arms, nestled up against me while we enjoy each other’s company?” He stopped for a second, briefly mulling over his words before adding “Well, I guess you’d be the most settled with me buried deep inside of you, but I’m working on that.”

Your face flushed at his brazen words, bunched fists pushing up against his chest in a small act of resistance. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested-your previous admission of loneliness wasn’t a lie. Your trip had only been a few days, but Katsumi had been busy for several nights preceding that, leaving you feeling deeply unfulfilled for well over a week. Toys and your own hands could only take you so far.

You could feel your resolve waning with each passing moment. Every kiss of his lips, every caress of his hand, every coaxing word spoken by his husky voice, was like torture to your love deprived body. In the midst of it all he shed his own shirt, making you damn near lose your mind with desire. What right did he have to look so good, like he was some kind of Adonis pulled from the pages of a romance novel? You shuddered as his eyes roamed the curves of your compromised form, shining with eagerness to drown you in pleasure.

He dipped his head back down to your chest, his gaze turning mischievous as his eyes bore into yours. His tongue lightly laved over your soft skin and you clenched your jaw to stifle a whimper, desperately attempting to calm yourself down. But despite your best efforts one slipped out when he gently bit down, his tongue swirling your nipple friskily. His free hand sought out your other breast, massaging it gingerly as he lapped and sucked to his heart’s content.

Losing yourself in his ministrations, it wasn’t until he began to tug at your pants that you started to come to, your haze of lust dissipating the further down your legs the clothing traveled. Once past the knees, your hands shot to his shoulders, garnering his attention.

“Katsumi, stop,” you tried to speak firmly, even though your voice still warbled with desire, “I’m not ready for this right now.”

“Shhh,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your stomach, continuing to undress you, “let me make you feel good, baby. You are worn out from the trip, right? I’m just trying to help you unwind~”

You gripped his shoulders tighter, “Katsu, please, I- I just think we should wait…” your voice trailed off, a red hue spreading across your cheeks as you spoke your next words, “Right now is… it’s kind of bad timing, you know? We’re in a bit of a danger zone if we do anything rash.”

You finished the sentence with a nervous laugh, hopeful that he would pick up on your true discomfort and drop the subject entirely. Unfortunately, your words didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest as he finished discarding your pants, now focusing on the panties that were destined to join them.

“You’re on the pill, right? It shouldn’t be a problem…” He shimmied himself down your exposed body, trailing kisses as he went, “besides, you don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight to stop me right now, so you can’t be that against what I’m doing to you.”

You looked down at him, pouting in reaction to his cheeky smile. “I shouldn’t have to fight you. You should just respect your beloved girlfriend’s wishes and stop on your own.”

Katsumi laughed, “You may have a point, but when you dangle a bone before a starving dog, he’s gonna make a move,” he gave you another once over, the heat of his stare causing your heart rate to quicken. “Looking the way that you do, you can hardly blame me.”

A jolt coursed through your body as you felt Katsumi’s fingers lightly graze your folds, a bright blush illuminating your cheeks as Katsumi gave another throaty chuckle. He planted a lingering kiss on your leg, “So fucking cute,” he spoke against your skin, his demeanor morphing from mischievous to downright lustful, “I know you want this too. I’ll use protection, OK?”

Before you had the opportunity to respond his fingers were pressing more firmly against you, teasing your entrance. A wave of heat rushed through your body, your hips bucking up involuntarily to receive more of his touch. Driven by your body’s reaction, Katsumi repositioned himself between your legs, quickly shedding his pants in the process.

Your whole body ached with desire as you watched him move above you, staring at you with longing eyes. You had witnessed him like this countless times before, but each time it happened you couldn’t help but gawk at him. Katsumi was flawless, strong, and handsome beyond compare. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like him even ended up as yours to begin with (though he always hated that insecurity of yours, stating if anyone were to feel that way in this relationship, it should be him).

Katsu was your biggest fan, the apple of your eye, the love of your life. You were both just as crazy about each other now as you were when you first met so long ago, wrapped up in some kind of never-ending whirl-wind romance you thought only existed in movies or fairy tales. You loved him so goddamn much, every moment with him was a moment to be treasured.

So when he lowered his mouth to your entrance, dragging his tongue languidly against your bare cunt, your body was quick to give in. You shuddered as his tongue worked its way inside of you, warm and inviting as it tenderly explored you. Your breathing grew erratic as his thumb moved to massage your clit, his hand and mouth working in synchrony to lead you to euphoria.

You knew where this was all headed, and even with Katsumi’s previous assurances you still felt unsure. You had been experiencing abnormal hormonal fluctuations, often times having a full on period when you knew the medicine you were on was supposed to be staunching it. You had been meaning to go to the doctor to get it addressed but something always seemed to be popping up, barring you from finding out the root cause of the issue.

You had tried to stress your concerns to Katsumi multiple times, but he always brushed them off by saying that you were both being safe and nothing would happen. You wanted to believe him, truly you did, but you knew how weak your resolve was in moments like this and his was even worse. How could either of you say you were doing all you could to prevent bringing another life into this world, a life neither of you was ready to raise or care for?

But even with all your misgivings, how could you ever tell him no? How could you ever not give in to your overwhelming need for him? The longer he touched you the more you felt as if you were losing yourself, ensnared by the bliss he was supplying you. You whined as his hand gripped your leg tighter, pulling you closer to him. You assisted by latching your hands to his hair, grinding yourself against his face as you chased your pleasure. He moaned against you in response, causing you to shiver.

In your haze of lust, you glanced down at him, watching as his feverish mouth worked its magic. Your blush deepened when his focus shifted back your way, his lidded eyes staring up at you had a bestial look to them as he fixated on you, thoroughly engrossed in eating you out. He was fueled by each twitch of your face, the furrowing of your brow, the look of growing ecstasy in your eyes, and you found his palpable desire just as exciting.

All of your tells were driving him to the point of insanity as he lapped at you, the bulge in his boxers growing painful as it strained against the pre-cum soaked fabric, desperate to be inside of you. “I need you now,” his voice was deep as he detached himself from you, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand, “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Katsu,” your voice was strained, missing his contact as soon as it was gone, “Katsu, I-“

“It’s OK baby,” Katsumi purred, cutting you off, “I told you I’ll take care of you, and I’m a man of my word.”

His baritone voice caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach, your entire body aching for him as he shed what remained of his clothing. He spat on his hand, giving himself a few cursory pumps before he slotted himself against you, dragging his hard cock tauntingly across your opening.

“Are you ready for me?”

Though your mind was muddled with desire, the fact that Katsumi was not sticking to his promise had not escaped your notice. A pang of fear spiked in your heart as you felt him start to enter you, the repercussions of this liaison sending anxiety coursing through your veins.

“W-wait, you said-“

Katsumi pressed his lips to yours, making you instantly swallow your protest. He pushed his way inside, causing you to whine against his kiss. He parted from you slightly, his breathing unsteady as he enjoyed the feeling of you enveloping him.

“I’m sorry baby, couldn’t wait,” he panted, moving his hips until he was completely sheathed inside of you, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Katsu,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the stretch of him inside of you, “please, I-“

Another kiss, “It’ll be OK, trust me.”

His voice was hurried, his words a means to pacify. They did little to assuage your concerns, but as you felt the slow drag of his length against your walls, your ability to dispute him was stolen from you. His thumb pressed against your clit, massaging the tender bud, coaxing your body back into a sense of mounting ecstasy that effectively killed any lingering protests.

You gasped as he thrust into you again, more forcefully than his initial entrance. He continued just as roughly, each deliberate stroke hitting you so deeply it made your head spin. Delicate whimpers turned into wanton moans as he pushed on, quickening his pace to an almost brutal degree. He leaned down, pressing his body against yours as he covered your neck with hot, open mouth kisses. His hands gripped the back of your legs, pressing them back so that he had access to plunge even deeper.

“So fucking perfect,” he panted into your neck, voice wavering with desire, “everything about you is perfect (name). I love you so fucking much.”

A particularly harsh push of his hips made you scream, a growl of pleasure rumbling from Katsumi’s throat. “And you’re all mine. I’m the only one that gets to see you like this, the only one who can make you feel this good.  And you’re the one who completes me, the only person that drives me to the point of insanity with how much I love you.”

At some point tears began to fall down your cheeks, the intensity of his love overpowering you as he imprinted himself into your very core. His affection was as intoxicating as it was formidable, and you found yourself being able to do little more than cling to him, crying over the potent mix of pleasure and pain he continuously hammered into you.

His hands snaked up your arms, entwining his fingers with yours in a vice like grip. Sweat coated his brow as his eyes caught yours in a heady stare. You could tell his release was imminent, the ability to speak chased away by his growing passion, a string of unintelligible praises and moans tumbling from his lips as his hips smacked lewdly against you.

A final wave of pleasure crashed upon you, taking you in its brilliance. Crying out in bliss, you tightened around him as you came, your entire body vibrating in complete satisfaction at Katsumi’s efforts. The reaction caused his hips to stutter, his voice roaring your name as he came, spilling himself deep inside of you.

For a moment you were lost in your buzz. Breathing heavily in his arms, a thin layer of sweat coated your battered body as you slowly regained your bearings. Katsumi stayed where he was, plugging you up as he planted lingering kisses along your face and collarbone, his praise never ceasing as he held you close.

“K-Katsumi,” your voice was weak as you came down off your high, a nagging feeling of disquiet once more taking root in your brain. You squirmed in his hold, trying to detach yourself from him and the softening cock he kept stuffed inside of you. “Katsumi, get off of me…”

“Hey now, if you keep moving around like that you’re gonna get me excited again,” he chuckled, your body jolting when he gave your breast a playful nip, “You already ready for round two? Naughty girl~”

“S-stop,” you pouted, upset that he was trying to joke around when you were in a clear state of distress, “What the hell even was that? I told you now wasn’t good timing…”

He laughed again, “As I said, you didn’t seem to really be complaining.”

You smacked him lightly on the shoulder, brows furrowing. “I’m not joking around Katsumi! It felt nice, but what happens if…” Your voice trailed off. Despite all you had just done, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as you confronted what could be a very real repercussion of your actions. “What if we get pregnant?”

“…Would it really be so bad?”

Your eyes shot back to him, taken aback by the nonchalance in his words. There was a serene smile on his face as he spoke them, as if bringing a child into your life was no big deal at all.

“We’re gonna have them someday anyway, aren’t we?” He continued to smile at you, nudging his nose against yours affectionately, “Does it really matter if we have them now or later? Another member of the Orochi family wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” He planted a small kiss on your lips, looking down at you with a sparkle in his eye. “Besides, you’d look absolutely gorgeous full of my children, don’t you think? Can’t say I’m not looking forward to you wobbling around all plump and pretty, there will just be that much more of you to love on.”

A deep red blossomed across your face, trailing down your chest. “Y-you know I’m not ready for all that Katsu, I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a kid right now.” You shook your head, giving him an earnest look, “We can’t do this, at least not yet. I, we are not ready for a commitment that big. We agreed on this already, right?”

He hummed thoughtfully as he took you in, an indiscernible look reflected in his eyes as they bore into yours. For a brief moment you felt uncomfortable with his demeanor, his silence making you feel almost as if something you said had bothered him and now he was upset with you. But just as you were about to confront him on it, his smile returned. In a swift movement he pulled out of you, pivoting his body around until he had scooped you up in his arms.

Pressed firmly against his chest, he planted a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry (Name), you’re right. I just can’t help but get carried away when I’m with you. I’ll try better to restrain myself in the future.”

You sighed, snuggling into his chest as you tried to dispel the feelings of concern that still wracked your mind. “It’s OK,” you spoke softly, the evidence of his transgression leaking uncomfortably from between your legs. “We’ll just have to be extra careful in the future, alright?”

As you rested against him, Katsumi was happy you couldn’t see the guilt that briefly permeated his features. He had total faith in his plan, knew that ultimately it was the right thing to do for not just him, but yourself as well. Yet still, hearing your blatant concern as you snuggled against him, held close by the man you trusted the most while you remained none the wiser to his plan… He couldn’t help but feel like the bad guy.

He grimaced as he tightened his hold on you, frustrated that you were making this so hard for him. You belonged with him. No one could make you happier than he could, no one could protect you or provide for you better than he could. Really, all of the fears you conjured pertaining to your inevitable future with him were your own fault, self-inflicted punishment you suffered for being so stubborn.

Every ideal and goal that you were so keen on pursuing were ultimately pointless in the grand scheme of things-Silly little distractions that you for some reason deemed as more important than creating a family with him. He tried not to let it gnaw away at him, but sometimes it was too hard to ignore.

The thought that you could just slip away someday, leaving him behind as you gave your love and your future to someone else, haunted him. He knew you loved him, it was undeniable. He was sure a break-up was the furthest thing from your mind, the loyalty you felt for him as unwavering as his was for you. And yet worries still plagued him. You were his happiness, his love, his light. Everything he did, he did for you. If one day your love for him dimmed, where would that leave him? What would be the purpose of life if you weren’t there by his side, experiencing it with him as you grew old together?

He couldn’t accept that, he wouldn’t. You were his, always and forever. But he needed an assurance that you would stay by his side for keeps, something bigger than spoken promises and more concrete than a ring on your finger. He needed something to bind you to him irrevocably, a sign of your lifelong love that was truly permanent.

And what was a better culmination of devotion and attachment than a baby? He always wanted to be a father, and from the moment he met you, he wanted to make you the mother of his children. It only made sense that one day, hopefully very soon, that goal would be realized.

In his home, fat with his babies, basking in his touch and his ceaseless love, THAT was the life you deserved and the only thing you should be focused on. If you weren’t going to recognize it on your own, of course he had no choice but to begin taking drastic measures. Swapping out your pills, sabotaging your doctor’s appointments, lying to you… he wasn’t proud of himself for having to do it, but his hands were tied. Any struggling or feelings of discontentment were ultimately entirely your own fault.

“…Katsumi? Did you hear me?”

“Oh, sorry baby,” he startled at the acknowledgment, dragged back to earth by your questioning voice. “But I hear you loud and clear. I meant it when I said you have nothing to worry about. I’ll always keep your best interests at heart, I promise.”

[mustainegf]

Hiiii

Can you pretty please write something for the young parent James hetfield AU where Lucy is the biggest daddy's girl and they do everything together but reader feels kinda left out and it's just fluff🙏🏻🙏🏻

HAVE A GREAT DAYYY💕

FINALLY A REQ FOR ONE OF MY AU'S HOLY SHIT!!?!?!?

—➤ 𝐀𝐔’𝐬

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁸

I had always dreamed of being a mother, but nothing could have prepared me for Lucy. Our daughter, golden curls and bright blue eyes, the spitting image of her father, was my perfect girl, my everything. Lately though, she seemed to think different.

Every morning's the same. I wake up to tiny feet tapping down the hallway, her high pitched voice calling out, "Daddy! Daddy!" She never looks for me first. It's always James she wants, James she runs to. Every time she bypasses our bedroom, not even glancing in my sleepy direction.

It's what I'm used to, but that doesn't make it hurt less.

This morning, I watched them from the kitchen as I was making breakfast. Lucy was sitting on James's lap, her chubby little hands tugging at his hair, giggles everywhere. James was fully devoted to her, and I don't blame him.

"Good morning, sweetie," I called to Lucy, hoping she'd look my way. But she didn't. She was too busy showing James her new stuffed animal, a gift I'd picked out for her just yesterday.

"Lucy," I tried again, a bit louder this time, "Did you sleep well, baby?"

She kept ignoring me, looking at her dad, who was in his own little world, with her. My chest ticked. All I wanted to do was shrug it off and say that it didn't matter, but it did. It mattered a fucking lot.

I went over to the table with a plate of pancakes and set them down in front of the two. "Lucy, look your favorite," I said, smiling as I attempted, and failed, to catch her eye.

At last, she raised her eyes to mine, and they didn't show interest.

"Lucy, don't you want to say thank you to Mommy?" James urged gently, having felt that something was clearyly wrong.

She looked at me for just a moment, muttering a forced "thank you" before hiding her head in James's shoulder. It hurt.

For the day, I kept busy cleaning, organizing, anything to get my mind off Lucy's uninterest, but it didn't matter what I did, it just didn't take away from the fact that I was losing my daughter to her own father.

I did try to help out the best I could, so I took Lucy out to the park in the afternoon with the hope that spending quality time just with her would bring us closer. "Lucy, honey, do you want to go to park with Mommy? We can play on the swings, your favorite."

She hesitated, looking up at James as if for permission. He smiled back, encouraging, but she wasn't enthused by the prospect. "Um, okay…" she said, her small hand slipping into mine without enthusiasm.

At the park, I did try everything. I pushed her on the swings, played on the jungle gym, I even tried offering her food. Every response or sentence offered always came so sullen, her mood was disinterested. Every time I tried to get her to talk or change her frown to a smile, she'd say, "When are we going home to daddy?"

My heart shattered.

An hour later I gave up and brought her back in. James was in the living room working on his guitar. The moment Lucy glanced at him, her face lit up, and she ran right into his arms. She didn't even glance back at me.

That night, after tucking Lucy in bed, I dropped onto the bed, and I felt the tears rising.

But James knew. He always did.

"You've been quiet today," James commented softly, taking a seat beside me. "Everything okay?"

I nodded, trying to force a smile. "Yeah, I'm just tired."

He looked at me hard, and I knew he didn't believe me. "It's Lucy isn't it?

All I could do was break. "I just... I just don't know what I'm doing wrong, James," I said fearfully. "She doesn't even want to be around me. It's like. it's like she doesn't love me."

James hugged me closer as I began to cry into his chest. "Hey, don't say that," he whispered. "Lucy loves you more than you know. She's just… she's just really attached to me right now. It's not about you."

"But it feels like it is," I sobbed. "It feels like she doesn't even see me."

"shhh, shh,' he comforted, holding me tight until my sobs lessened. He pulled away from me and looked into my watery eyes. "I'm gonna talk to her. She needs to understand she can't treat you like this, even if she doesn't mean to."

The next morning, James kept his promise. He sat down with her again and tried to explain as gently as possible that she was hurting Mommy's feelings. I watched from the doorway, heart still breaking while his words soaked into her brain.

"Mommy loves you so very much, Lucy. When you do these things to her, it makes her sad because you don't show her you love her too. Do you understand?"

Lucy looked at him with wide eyes, clearly confused and just a bit frightened. "I didn't mean to make Mommy sad," she said, her voice sounding so small and guilty.

"I know, sweetheart," James returned, pulling the little girl onto his lap. "But you need to remember that Lucy. Mommy has feelings too. She needs your love just as much as I do."

Lucy looked up at me, her big blue eyes starting to realize the weight of it all. "Mama... I'm sorry," she whispered through a cracking voice, holding out her little arms.

I knelt beside them, pulling her into a tight hug. "It's okay, baby," I said into her forehead, pressing a kiss between her eyes. "Mommy loves you so much.

"I love you too, Mommy," she said with her head buried in my shoulder. I knew she meant it. I felt it.

I rocked her in my arms as James encircled us both. The love I always wanted was right here in this small, beautiful, messy family that we had made.

[sleepykye]

I love your writings so much! Could I please request a Tamaki x Reader fanfic where Tamaki sees you always clinging to Nejire and gets jealous?

Bridging the Distance

Tamaki x Reader

Of course, my dear. I accept every single request, so please don't be shy to ask ! 🫶🏼

U.A. High School was always a whirlwind of activity, with students buzzing around, training, and preparing for their future as pro heroes. Amidst the organized chaos, Tamaki Amajiki found solace in his close-knit group of friends, the Big Three: himself, Mirio Togata, and Nejire Hado. Tamaki was used to Nejire's cheerful and energetic presence, which often served as a comforting contrast to his own shy and reserved nature.

However, recently, Tamaki noticed a new addition to their little circle: you. You were a first-year student with an infectious smile and boundless energy that rivaled even Nejire’s. From the moment you met Nejire, you two had become inseparable, constantly chatting, laughing, and clinging to each other in the hallways.

Tamaki, usually content to observe from the sidelines, found himself feeling something unfamiliar—jealousy. He wasn't used to feeling this way, especially not about someone as kind and vibrant as you. But every time he saw you with Nejire, a pang of longing and envy twisted in his chest.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling training session, Tamaki walked into the common area to find you and Nejire sitting on the couch, your head resting on Nejire's shoulder as you both giggled over something on Nejire's phone. Mirio was nearby, grinning at the scene.

"Hey, Tamaki!" Mirio called out, waving him over. "Come join us!"

Tamaki hesitated, his eyes darting to you and Nejire. He gave a small nod and walked over, sitting down awkwardly on the edge of the couch.

"Hi, Tamaki!" you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, your eyes bright. "Nejire was just showing me some hilarious memes."

"Y-yeah, I see," Tamaki replied, forcing a small smile. "Sounds fun."

Nejire, always perceptive, noticed the tension in Tamaki's posture. "Tamaki, are you okay? You seem a little off."

He shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, really."

But Nejire wasn't convinced. "You know, (Y/N) and I were just about to go get some snacks from the cafeteria. Want to join us?"

You jumped up, grabbing Tamaki's hand. "Yeah, come with us! It'll be fun!"

Tamaki's heart skipped a beat at your touch, but he nodded, allowing you to pull him to his feet. As the three of you made your way to the cafeteria, Nejire walked ahead, chatting animatedly. You stayed close to Tamaki, your hand brushing against his every now and then.

When you arrived at the cafeteria, Nejire excused herself to grab some drinks, leaving you and Tamaki alone. You turned to him, a concerned look on your face. "Tamaki, is something bothering you? You seem... distant."

He looked down, struggling to find the right words. "It's just... I feel like I'm losing Nejire. You two are so close, and I... I don't know."

You blinked in surprise, then your expression softened. "Oh, Tamaki, I'm sorry if it seemed like that. Nejire is amazing, but that doesn't mean there's no room for you. You're important to me too."

Tamaki glanced up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Really?"

You nodded, smiling gently. "Of course. I admire you a lot, Tamaki. You're kind, strong, and always there for your friends. I want to be closer to you too, if you'll let me."

Tamaki's heart swelled at your words, and he found himself smiling genuinely for the first time that day. "I'd like that."

Just then, Nejire returned, balancing a tray of drinks. "Here we go! I got your favorites. Everything okay?"

You and Tamaki exchanged a glance, then you both nodded. "Yeah, everything's great," you said, squeezing Tamaki's hand reassuringly.

As you all sat down to enjoy your snacks, Tamaki felt the jealousy melt away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging. He realized that there was no need to be envious. With you by his side, he knew he had found something special—something worth cherishing.

[lilac-5ky]

The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday

Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)

Word Count: Slightly under 9k.

A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙

Masterlist | Requests | AO3

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.

There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.

“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.

You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.

We are going to die.

Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.

“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”

“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”

“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”

Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.

Not yours, at least.

“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”

“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.

“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”

“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”

Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.

You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.

But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.

The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.

Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.

The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.

You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.

Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.

“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”

You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.

“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”

“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”

“I’m cold.”

“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”

“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”

“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.

“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.

Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.

“I thought your eyes were closed!”

“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”

“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.

“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”

You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.

You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.

“Are you mad?”

The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.

“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.

“Re…lieved?”

“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”

“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”

“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”

“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”

He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.

You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”

His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.

“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”

You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.

“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”

By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.

You are relieved.

“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.

“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”

“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”

“Actually…”

You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.

“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”

You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.

You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.

“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”

“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.

“And?”

“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”

“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”

“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”

His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.

“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.

“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.

“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.

“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.

Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.

“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”

“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”

“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.

“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”

“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.

After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.

“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”

Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.

“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.

“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”

“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”

“Aww!”

“Eww!”

“Gross!”

The reactions vary.

“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.

“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”

“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.

Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.

You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”

“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”

“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.

“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”

“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”

“Sixteen minutes late—”

The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.

“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”

You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?

“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”

Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.

“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!

“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a��uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”

“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”

“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”

Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”

The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.

Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.

You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.

Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.

In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.

“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”

Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!

“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”

“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”

His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.

“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”

Not true; you all did your part…

Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”

That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.

“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”

Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.

You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.

“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.

“Y-yeah.” You croak.

“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”

“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”

“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”

You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.

“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.

He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.

“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.

“Nice job!”

“It wasn’t my intention!”

Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.

“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.

“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.

“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.

“You never are!”

“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.

You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.

“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.

“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.

“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.

She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”

“How about now?”

Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.

It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”

“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.

“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”

“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.

“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”

“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”

A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.

“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”

A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.

“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”

Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.

“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.

Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.

“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”

He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.

“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”

“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.

“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”

“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.

“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.

Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.

Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.

“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”

“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”

“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.

It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”

“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.

“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.

“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.

Nothing happens.

“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”

“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.

A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”

“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.

“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.

“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.

“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”

“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.

“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”

“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.

“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”

“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”

“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.

“Satoru!”

“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”

A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.

“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.

Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.

“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”

“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.

Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.

The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.

You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.

You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.

God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.

As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.

You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.

Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.

you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.

“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.

“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”

Horny bastard. Right on the money.

“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”

“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”

The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.

“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.

“These two.”

The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.

“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.

Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.

“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”

Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.

Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.

“Geto Suguru was—”

“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”

“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”

“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”

“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”

“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”

“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”

“Thank you!”

Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.

Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.

“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.

“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”

“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”

“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”

“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.

“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.

“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.

“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”

He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.

“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”

You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.

“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”

It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.

“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”

“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”

“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”

“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.

“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”

A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!

[son-of-anubis]

Pre-payment

Billy x Brothel Worker MALE reader

Warning: prostitution, reference to other consumers that are not so nice, panic at being outed, and panic at being murdered (?), oral (because I still haven't figured out how to write actual sex without sounding stupid), some talk of saliva

A/N: It felt like people appreciated the last one so I thought I could try to write another idea i had!

Sometimes I questioned why I even stayed here. The room was filled with old fuckers just wanting something warm to help get their rocks off.

Disgraces with a false gentlemen attitude and some money to spare. The occasional woman who wanted to be treated like a princess for once.

The brothel lighting hurt my eyes and I prayed that the whiskey-blur would take away my headache. Looking around at the lightly clad women I sighed. The young men like myself rarely mingled. We got introduced as barbacks mostly. With the opinion people held on woman visiting such places, and especially men being with men it was obviously that we were a 'special request' item. 

I could hear the doors swing open once more, loud voices demanding attention. A quick glance and I could see a blond man leading the pack. 

With quick strides towards the Madam he demanded 7 of her best whores, and he sure had the funds to back it up. 

The man made eye contact with me and I tried to look away as nonchalantly as possible.

"Hey, boy! You had your fun yet?" blondie shoutet in his direction. 

Had he? Mr. Redding had been in, he is always quite gentle, in his own way. Mrs. Bowen and her friend was also in for a visit. That went fine. In my mind I suddenly remembered that Mr. Archer had mentioned his plan to join me later that evening. 

The violent shudder was impossible to contain. If I could avoid Mr. Archer I would. The pain and fear was not worth the money if I could find time somewhere else.

I was fully aware they thought me just another patron. So I carefully said: "I ain't got the money for that."

"Aye, we got some for you, todays good deed, huh? Help ya pop your cherry!" the brunette next to blondie said, laughing.

I nodded in fake glee, maybe I could score some time with Lola, give her the night off to, I knew she worked to much since her kid got sick.

"Names Jessie." so not blondie, eh. 

"Most people call me Angel." It was for the best to say, no way I was giving out my name to some outlaws.

The buggy ride wasn't to bad. Me, Lola and Caroline was chatting. They took great amusement in me 'losing my cherry' this evening. I couldn't help the chuckle leaving my mouth. Yeah, it was pretty funny.

The 3 men up front started hollering, being met with equal enthusiasm somewhere in the near distance. 

As the wagon stopped, a group of maybe 12 men came into view, all dripping in machismo. Fucking losers if you asked me. 

My gaze stopped as ice blue eyes met mine. The shaggy brown hair under a worn and torn hat. He was absolutely beautiful....and probably would spend the night with one of the women. The reminder was not a fun one, but it was the way of life.

Caroline launched herself at the nearest outlaw and the others followed suit. I made my way at the back of the group, walking over to the open fire. 

I nodded at the people going into the cabin before departing, making sure they where okay with the current arrangement, but it was good money so I knew noone was actually going to protest.

The evening air was sticky and I grabbed the cup closes to me. Moonshine. That would do.

The giggling and moaning started soon after, but at this point in my life it was basically white noise.

They vague sound of footsteps approached, stopping next to me. As I cast a glace upwards I was met with blue. An involuntary shiver fell down my back. God he was gorgeous. 

"May I?" he asked, the drawl wasn't as worn in as most, he probably was not born in the west. 

I gestured to the rickedy chair next to me. 

"What's your name, sugar?" maybe the nickname was over the line, but half the excitement had always been toying between making men uncomfortable and getting beaten up.

The man lifted an eybrow but still answered.

"William Bonney, but you can call me Billy if you want." Billy tilted his head slightly, sizing me up, see if I was a threat. I really wasn't, and had never been, else I would never have gotten into this profession. "And what might yours be?"

The intense sensation of wanting to tell him my real name washed over me. Damn his hotness, I was always a sucker, metaphorically and literally, for charming people. 

"....people call me Angel." Oh shit, that hesitation could be heard a mile away. 

Billy looked at me, more like stared at me, for what felt like forever.

"You a.....worker?"

How the fuck did he spot that. Noone ever did, why the fuck did he? And why would he ask? I am dead. 

The panic in my chest hurt and I tried to keep my breathing even. 

Billy looked at me, expecting an answer and for some reason, I blame panic, I nodded. My eyes darted around wildly, I was going to die, and in the middle of nowhere. I was going to be murdered by Billy the fucking Kid. Oh fuck.

A hand lands on my shoulder and my eyes meet with Billys. He looked, concerned? Why?

"m'not telling anyone." he said, the cadence somthing you would use to calm a feral dog. 

He started rubbing my shoulder, and I found myself trying to match my breathing to his. 

The moments passed slowly, with me calming down at snail pace. The universe seemed aligned as we somehow gravitated towards each other, inching closer and closer until Billy had his arm around my shoulder. 

I looked up at him, sapphire piercing my soul. Time stopped as I leaned in, and with uncertainty and slight hesitance Billy did the same.

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

My back hit the cold wood of the shed as Billys tounges invaded my mouth. In our drunken stupor the saliva seemed abundant but neither of us minded the messiness. 

Billys hand found the back och my thigh, urging me to jump. He caught me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist. As we pulled away for a breath a string of saliva briefly connected us.

"$10 for the hour, $25 for the night." i recited. I would be stupid to think this was anything other than a transactional affair, even if it without a doubt would be a hell of a lot better than Mr. Archer would have been.

Billy scoffed but dug out what looked like $50 from his pants.

He must have seen the confusion on my face as he flashed a quick grin.

"Pre payment, if you're good for it, 'cause next time I see you, I ain't keeping off ya."

My entire body heated up as Billy carried me over to some hay. He used his foot to kick some type of old fabric over it and unceromoniously threw me on it.

Quickly undressing without breaking eye contact and my eyes wandered the outlaws figure. He was lean and lanky, but also very obviously strong.

And as our clothing was completely gone my eyes traveled further down. Fuck. Ain't no way that beauty of a cock was fitting without some grease, and as far as I were aware, we had none. But never the less, the heat and spark of arousal fuled me even more.

When my eyes once again landed on his face it looked almost bashful, like he didn't know what to do with himself. It was a stark contrast to the overt confidence he had just minutes ago. 

I made the decision to initiate further and crawled my way over to him. Grabbing him softly, feeling him pulse in my hand, I gave his dick a experimentative lick from base to tip. I heard Billy draw in a sharp breath and as we locked eyes I put his tip in my mouth. 

I licked up the pre cum that landed on my tounge and swirled it around a bit. 

Hollowing my cheeks I plunged down, taking as much as possible of him. 

The bobbing started slow but quicked as we got comfortable. 

His hand slowly crept into my hair, giving an almost shy push, and I tried to take even more of his leangth. The gagging happened almost immediately.

"Ain't have to do it, ya know." Billy spoke in a gruff tone, sounding out of breath. 

I rolled my eyes before pulling out some, deep inhale, eyes closing, and finally slow dip. More, more, more. The gagging was easy enough to control. Before I knew it my nose hit a fuzzy patch. I looked up at Billy, tears streaming down my face, and was met with a man at the brink of insanity. 

Billys eyes held a haze that would disgust me if it was any other patron, but at this very moment I felt nothing but pride. I did that. If I could smile I would.

I felt the first small thrust and had to once again close my eyes to control the gag. But I still managed to give him a somewhat nod, consenting for further exploration. 

The thrusting started almost lazy, but quickly picked up. Billy using my hair as make shift reigns. The curses that left the mans mouth was foul but sounded oh so heavenly. In the mids of it all I heard "Angel" and tapped his thighs. Billy let me up with a shocked expression.

"Did I hurt ya? Didn't mean t......"

"Y/N." I interupted. The confusion grew on Billys face, still looking down on me on my knees, still with a hand in my hair. I pulled myself closer to his cock again, mouth open and ready as I expressed:

"My name, it's Y/N, call me that, please." 

I didn't care how desperate it sounded, I wanted him to praise my name the way it was supposed to be. Y/N the man, not Angel the whore.

Billy seemed taken aback for only a second before growling my name and pushing me back down on him. 

The pace seemed impossibly faster but the atmosphere was also much more intimate. I knew he was nearing the end and I started to periodically tighten my throat as much as I could. 

As I felt Billy start to pull away I buried my face in his pubic hair, clutching the back of his thighs. 

I felt his cum sliding down my throat, warm and smooth. Billy sinfully moaning above me. This was as perfect as a night could get, I was sure of it.

Pulling away, Billys knees buckled slightly, and I grinned up at him. 

He slowly sat down on the floor of the shed, coming down from his high. 

His hand made a vague gesture towards me and I shook my head.

"You're not gonna put that in me without any help," we shared a chuckle "but maybe you could put your mouth on mine again, cowboy?" 

Billy embraced me once again as we fell back onto the hay, but this time the kiss was much more controlled. 

"Once I'm ready for round 2, you're gonna forget everything that ain't my name, that good for you Y/N?" the teasingly cocky tone made me laugh, but I agreed anyway.

Definitely better than Mr. Archer.