#forehead kisses for you for a thousand years if you want them

[lilly-of-the-vale]

𐙚╰┈➤ˎˊ˗synopsis: taking care of suguru after a bath

Contains: sfw, mildly suggestive (shirtless suguru and reader), sappy pet names (my baby, sweetheart...), fluff fluff fluff

A/n: Happy Valentine's day!!

Your hand slides the towel from over his head, making sure to squeeze the water out of his hair on the way down. once his face is revealed, he graces you with one of his sweet giddy smiles –the ones that scream appreciation and gratitude– and your heart swells with joy, maybe also with pride, pride from knowing only you can take care of your boy this way.

Your hands find themselves cupping his face, and he nuzzles into them absentmindedly —like it's second nature— and you can't help but place a gentle kiss on his forehead, to which he closes his eyes to savor. His arms curl around your waist, bringing you closer to his firm chest.

Standing there between his legs, your fingers move toward his raven locks, your lips restless as they draw a path, beginning from his hair line to the crown of his head –that's ironic– you muse to yourself, that expression was made just for him, for your prince, the palm of your hand serving as his crown.

Suguru exhales onto your chest, bringing you closer to sit on his lap, and you oblige immediately, getting comfortable on top of his firm thighs, his still slightly damp face finds refuge against your exposed collar bone before. He begins his affectionate assault on the skin, gently and lazily kissing the skin, eliciting and chuckle from you before rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Oh sweetheart..."

He hums in response, letting you know you have his ears.

"My baby" you coo "my sweet baby, are we feelin' tired?"

And under any other circumstance, he would tell you to cut it out, that it was his job to see to you, to tend to you, to baby you. And under any other circumstance, you would yield, give up and give into him, let him catch you like he always does, and bask into the softness of his care after the fall, the way down always looked too risky, the fear of betrayal shifting into a thousand needles, poking mercilessly at your chest from the inside –the blood always seeped out–. But not with him, no. After having met Suguru, you found yourself craving the fall.

"Yes..." comes his whispered response, the fatigue evident in his tone. His voice soft and sweer. And once again your heart swells.

"Okay then" you whisper back to him, standing up abruptly to stretch. Looking back down at him, you can spot the faintest hints of a pout, no doubt the result of the loss of your warmth against his.

"Let's get you a shirt, honey" you smile before making your way to your shared closet, years of wearing each other's clothes –a habit he started by insisting on you wearing his hoodies, using the cold as leverage– made you realize that seperating them was unnecessary.

After a few seconds, you settle on a big warm phthalo green sweatshirt, who it truly belonged to doesn't matter at this point. After getting his dressed up, making sure he's nice and warm, his arms find your waist again, this time pulling you a little rougher to lay down on top of him on the bed, your head nestled under his chin, an exhale of relief leaves his throat.

"I love you...more than you could ever begin to imagine"

A/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY GUYS!!!!!! i wanted to at leastttttt post something for it, ik it's short but plz just take cut me some slack, i just refuse to let my genshin fic come in the way of me posting something for this holiday (maybe i honor cuz its my name idk)!!!!

Anyway, tysm for reading!!! Reblogs and tags are alwayyyssss greatly appreciated!!! 🩷🩷

⠀

[lolli-says-stuff]

I would like to formally thank @suzie-shooter for introducing me to this marvellous song by writing a marvellous fan fiction about it. I could kiss your brain. Thank you.

[quietwingsinthesky]

this is also about me needing to see lucifer call them ‘little brother/sister’ while they’re fucking im not weird im normal about him im normal about my angel ships

[kashverse]

sukuna, for all his ruthlessness, for all his "king of the corporate world" nonsense, is a hopeless man when it comes to you. so when your birthday rolls around, it’s obvious what he’s going to do. "a thousand roses," he declares, arms crossed, smirking. "biggest fucking bouquet in the world. it’s gonna—"

"no."

he blinks. looks down. his daughter, all of five years old, stares up at him, hands on her hips, expression dead serious. "no?" he repeats, incredulous. "no what?"

she lifts a tiny finger. "no roses."

"the hell do you mean, no roses?"

"bad word!" she yells.

he sighs. "fine, fine—heck do you mean, no roses?"

she frowns, tapping her chin. "mama already gets roses. mama should get something cool." sukuna squints at her. "…like?"

his daughter suddenly beams. "LEGO!"

pause.

"…you want me to get your mom a lego set for her birthday?"

she nods enthusiastically.

sukuna, a grown-ass man, has never been stared down by someone so tiny and felt so defeated. "…fine," he mutters, rubbing his temples. "lego it is."

so that’s how he finds himself sitting at the dining table with his daughter at 11 pm the night before your birthday, helping her put together a lego flower bouquet.

"alright, gimme the little green stem—"

"papa, no! that not where it go!"

sukuna looks at her. then at the piece in his hand. then at the instruction booklet.

"…yeah, it is."

"no, it go here!" she insists, slapping his hand away and shoving the piece in the completely wrong spot. he stares at it. he stares at her.

"that’s not where it goes."

"yes it is," she says confidently.

"no, it fucking isn’t—"

"BAD WORD!"

he groans. "—no, it freaking isn’t!"

she glares at him.

he glares back.

…then sighs.

"fine," he mutters, leaning back. "you’re the boss."

"yes," she nods. "i am."

he exhales, watching as she enthusiastically shoves pieces together. she suddenly pauses.

"papa."

"what?"

"we add angel and labubu."

"why?"

"protection."

he stares at her. then, without a word, he gets up, goes to her hoard of sonny angels and labubus, and hands her two of them. she grins, placing them carefully on either side of the bouquet. "perfect," she declares.

when you come home, exhausted from work, you’re immediately ambushed by your daughter.

"MAMA!"

"happy birthday," sukuna calls lazily from the couch, arms crossed behind his head. before you can respond, your daughter shoves the lego bouquet into your hands, bouncing excitedly.

"LOOK!"

you blink, taking it in. a full lego flower bouquet, colorful, adorable, and—

"…is that a sonny angel and labubu?"

"yes!" she nods aggressively. "they keep it safe!" you laugh, heart swelling, before crouching down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "baby, this is amazing," you grin. "thank you!"

"papa helped!" she says, beaming. you look up at sukuna, amused. "you built legos?" he grunts. "against my will."

your daughter gasps dramatically. "papa! you like it!"

"…i tolerated it," he mutters.

"you LOVE it!"

"alright, chill out," he grumbles, ruffling her hair.

you shake your head, placing the bouquet on the table. "best gift ever," you say sincerely, smiling at them both. sukuna watches you. then, quietly, he smirks. "yeah," he mutters. "best gift ever."

[00valentina-writes00]

I love ur writing!! I was wondering if you could do Virgin reader x Sevika.

Ofc <3

✞⛧ All in 100% ✞⛧

Warnings: first time sex, oddly gentle sevika if you’re into that, fingering

Zaun hums outside, the neon glow barely filtering through the heavy curtains of Sevika’s apartment. The room smells like metal, whiskey, and the lingering burn of cigars, but beneath it all, there’s something distinctly her—warm, steady, grounding. The air is thick, charged with the weight of something inevitable, something that has your heart hammering inside your chest.

You sit on the edge of her bed, knees pressed together, fingers twisting in your lap. Your body feels too hot, too tight, and she’s right there in front of you, all broad shoulders and quiet intensity, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze.

“You nervous?” Her voice is low, smooth, a little raspy from years of smoke.

You swallow hard, nodding.

Sevika exhales slowly through her nose, kneeling in front of you with a quiet kind of ease, like she’s done this a thousand times before. Her metal arm rests against her thigh, but her other hand reaches for you, warm fingers brushing over your knee, then higher, smoothing over your thigh. Testing.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says, voice quieter now.

“I want to.” The words come out softer than you mean them to, but Sevika hears you.

Her eyes darken slightly, and she leans in, her breath warm against your skin. “Then let me take care of you.”

She moves slowly, undressing you like it’s something sacred. Her fingers work the buttons of your shirt with unhurried precision, sliding the fabric down your arms, exposing inch after inch of bare skin. Her lips brush over your collarbone, the heat of her mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you, her fingers ghosting over your stomach, tracing the nervous tremor in your muscles. “You’re so damn pretty.”

Your breath catches when she pushes you back onto the mattress, settling between your thighs, the weight of her keeping you in place. The smell of her—leather, smoke, sweat—invades your senses, dizzying, intoxicating.

Her lips find yours, firm and slow, the taste of whiskey lingering as she coaxes you deeper, tilting your chin up to control the pace. She doesn’t rush—she lets you feel every movement, every shift of her body against yours, until the nervous tension in your limbs starts to melt.

Her hands trail lower, fingers slipping between your legs ,through your slick folds, teasing over the damp heat pooling there. You jolt at the first touch, a soft gasp spilling from your lips.

Sevika groans, pressing her forehead against yours. “Shit… you’re soaking.”

A flush burns across your skin, but before you can say anything, her fingers press a little more firmly, rubbing slow, lazy circles into your hood that have your thighs trembling.

“Just relax,” she murmurs, kissing along your jaw, her voice nothing but heat and patience. “Let me in.”

And when she finally pushes inside—slow, careful, making sure you feel every inch—you whimper, your body tensing around her. She groans, fingers stilling for a moment, letting you adjust, her other hand smoothing up your stomach, grounding you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she breathes, voice tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moves slowly at first, deep, controlled strokes that have pleasure curling in your stomach, have your fingers digging into the sheets, into her. Her name slips past your lips, breathless and desperate, and something about it makes her shudder.

“Yeah?” she mutters against your skin, lips brushing over your pulse. “You like that, baby?”

Your body responds before your mouth can, hips rolling up, chasing the friction, the pressure building deep inside you. Sevika groans, her fingers pressing deeper, curling just right, making you see stars.

“Fuck—there it is,” she mutters, watching the way your body arches, the way you writhe beneath her. “That’s what you needed, huh?” Her thumbs draws slow circles around your clit.

You can’t answer. Your body does it for you, clenching around her fingers, your breath breaking into gasps as the pleasure builds and builds until it’s too much, until you’re trembling beneath her, crying out her name as you fall apart.

Sevika holds you through it, her arm wrapped around you, her lips pressed against your temple as aftershocks ripple through your body. She stays close, her warmth solid against you, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over your skin as you catch your breath.

“Told you I’d take care of you.”

[jezebelblues]

dress to impress | h.s

summary: in which you're a famous streamer n you finally let harry join one of your streams. (though the evening ends a bit differently than you expected)

cw: smut18+ oral (m receiving), daddy kink if u squint, spitting, fem!reader, unedited

word count: approx 3k

| yes yes i know that dti didn’t come out till last year just pretend 😔 also btw if this is cringe random then pretend i don’t exist fr i got this idea cause caseoh randomly posted a dti update while i was at the gym so thank u caseoh

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

masterlist

December 2021 | London

Snow dusted the window softly, frosting the glass and sending melting droplets downward against the pane, dancing in the direction of the wind. The world was still in the throes of the pandemic, which allowed the lines between professional and personal to blur a bit. 

YN had been a popular streamer for a few years now, but her numbers only grew once her relationship went public with the award winning, globe-trotting man that was Harry Styles. 

She had been avoiding this moment for months. Not because she didn’t want it to happen—oh no, she had definitely wanted Harry to join her on a stream, like a thousand times—but Harry had this way of throwing himself into new situations with such confidence that it was bound to lead to some seriously chaotic results.

But her fans, their fans, had been relentless. Every single time she went live on Twitch, no matter what game she was playing—among us, fortnite, mario world—the chat exploded with one resounding request: Get Harry on the stream!

At first, she’d brush it off with a smile and a laugh, always saying something like, he’s busy in the studio, or, he’s still getting in the hang of gaming, you don’t want to see him struggling on stream, trust me. But by the time December rolled around and the UK was stuck in another lockdown, YN realized she ran out of excuses to give. It was time to bring Harry on camera.

And so, on a cold December evening, she caved.

Harry was sitting in the same room. It was originally supposed to be an office, but since YN’s online career began to take off, it slowly transformed into a streaming room. Three monitors sat on a white desk in front of a large window. The one that sat in the middle showed the view of the stream and chat, while the other two were to be used for whatever.

Harry sat on a small couch in the center of the room, his head against the arm as he lazily scrolled through his phone, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to unleash on the internet. He looked effortlessly perfect, as per usual, in his gray sweats and oversized lavender hoodie, His growing curls were clipped into a tiny bun that sat on top of his head, a pair of brown glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 

The glow of the computers illuminated the room as she finished up last minute technical checks, string lights twinkling around the edge of the room for a warmer glow. YN adjusted the camera, smiling brightly as the viewers started to pile in, the chat exploding from the sight of Harry in the background. “So,” she began with a giggle, averting her eyes from the screen to her boyfriend that sat comfortably behind her. “y’ready to join us, lovey?”

He looked up from his phone, his features softening as he shut it off. His eyebrows quirked in that familiar way as he chuckled. “Oh, honey.” He sighed playfully as he stood up, ambling over to the spot behind her chair. “I was born ready.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed, tilting her head backward to catch a glance from underneath him. “Sure you were.”

He placed a quick kiss against her forehead before he sat in the chair beside her, settling in and staring at the center monitor which revealed the chat that moved in an insane quickness. He leaned over toward YN, shoulders barely touching as he waved at her camera with a wide smile.

She snorted, pushing against her boyfriend as she leaned over to point to the other monitor with a smile. “Look, baby.” She said softly, adjusting the camera that belonged to that computer before pulling up the game roblox. She gently explained to him the set up of the stream, informing him that all he had to do was sit in his space and the chat would see him just fine. 

And they would, it took YN over twenty minutes to set the stream up in a split screen sort of way, which would allow the viewers to see both YN and Harry, and their respective screens for gameplay. 

“Oh.” Harry giggled, as he scrolled throughout the roblox website randomly. His gaze shifted between his screen and the center monitor, reading out whatever messages he could since the chat moved so quickly. He scoffed, shaking his head. “How hard can this be? Look at this!” He laughed, nodding toward his screen.

His girlfriend snorted, shaking her head as she pulled up the game dress to impress. “This isn’t grand theft auto or fifa, I don't think you'll magically be good at this.” She grinned as she leaned over again toward Harry, pulling up the same game on his monitor.

“Oh ye of little faith.” He chuckled as he watched the game load in, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “I’ve got this.”

harryfan1: OMG ur kidding i literally knew it

ynfan2: no WAY LMFAO

harryfan2: HES ON 

YN couldn’t help but laugh as she read the chat aloud. “You guys are way too excited for this,” she teased. “Harry’s not that big of a deal.” 

He feigned offense as he looked into the camera with his jaw slack, a huff escaping his lips. “Absolutely bonkers.” He laughed breathily, referring to his girlfriend that sat beside him. He let his shoulders falter as he settled in a bit more, a grin spreading across his lips as the neon lobby of dress to impress loaded in.

YN’s eyes flickered between both the camera and Harry as she explained the premise of the game, smiling at his cocky eye rolls and the flood of heart emojis and keysmashes from the chat that seemed to express a collective internet scream.

“Would you like my help?” YN asked, humor lacing her words as she stared at the theme that flashed over the screen, winter wonderland.

Harry cracked his knuckles, tongue in cheek as he shook his head, darting around the game’s lobby in search for the exact outfit he envisioned. 

She laughed at him, quickly putting on a cute outfit with hair and makeup that went along perfectly. Something elegant, a cream colored warmth. Her smile grew as she glanced at the chat, then to Harry’s screen.

user3: whos gonna tell bro

user4: oh honey…

His avatar was dressed in white, baggy jeans with a puffy winter jacket that had a hawaiian pattern on it. Harry could feel her eyes on him as he placed a santa hat on his avatar for the finishing look. The skin tone of the character was still a default gray, completely bald with no face. His smile began to falter as he looked over toward his girlfriend’s screen. “How’d you do that?” He pleaded, his mouth falling into a frown as he watched the timer go down. “I’ve got no face!”

She laughed again as she showed him how to put hair and makeup on, as well as put an actual skin tone on his little avatar. She couldn’t help but ask what the hell he was envisioning for his outfit.

He grinned as he spun his avatar around the lobby. “She’s wishing for Florida.” He said, pointing toward the screen. “She’s dressed in warm clothes but the patterns show she wishes to be elsewhere.”

user5: this guy has got to stick to writing songs

When the voting started, YN’s outfit was praised by the chat and those in the server—many of whom were fans who were able to join the same lobby.

And then came Harry’s turn.

The second his avatar strut down the runway, there was a moment of lag in the chat before it quickly exploded once more. 

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, pointing at the camera with a snap. “Five stars or m’not releasing the third album.”

YN’s mouth fell agape as she watched Harry place first, watching her boyfriend fold his hands together and shake them in victory as he hummed the tune to as it was. (a tune his fans were completely oblivious to) which only let his smirk grow wider. 

The next theme was royalty, and YN figured this one would be easier for Harry. After all, the man was basically British royalty in his own right. Surely he could nail this one.

But once again, Harry’s choices were questionable, but of course it made complete sense to him in his own mind. 

While YN opted for a pretty gown and tiara, Harry—ever the wildcard—dressed his avatar in what could only be described as a pirate. For royalty.

She stared at his screen, dumbfounded. “H..that’s a pirate.”

“Royalty of the seas, love.” He winked, “captain Styles at your service.”

The chat went ballistic again, loving every second of Harry’s presence on screen.

user6: h pulled out the arrgh 5000s

user7: HARRY PLEASE

They played a few more rounds, with Harry’s outfits growing increasingly outlandish each time, much to the delight of the viewers. The banter between them never let up, and the stream quickly became one of YN’s most popular broadcasts ever.

As the night wore on and the final round came to an end, YN leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. “You guys are so spoiled.” She grinned in the direction of the camera. “I hope you enjoyed.”

Harry nodded, his smile unwavering. “And what did we learn tonight?”

“That this is why you have stylists?”

He scoffed before he muttered out a no, raising a finger like he was about to make a profound statement. “We learned that I am a roblox fashion icon in the making.” 

She burst out laughing again, and this time, she didn’t stop. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Harry was laughing alongside her, neither of them able to take the game—or themselves—too seriously. 

“Well baby, fashion icon or not.” She said, poking her boyfriend’s cheek gently. “I think we all learned this might not be your true calling.”

He gasped in mock offense, swatting her hand away and clutching his chest dramatically. “Rude. Just y’wait—next time I’ll come prepared. I’ll have a roblox fashion strategy ready t’go.” 

She smirked, titling her head in his direction. “Next time, huh?”

He paused with a smile, considering. “It was a bit of fun, but next time it needs to be guitar hero or something. I’ll wipe the floor with you on that one, gorgeous.” 

The chat immediately lit up again, the fans going wild at the thought of Harry in the streams more often than not, especially if he got to show off his musical side. Some were already throwing out more ideas for the future: 

Play minecraft!

Get this man on the sims! 

Releasing an album simulator (but irl) 

YN smiled again, clearly amused by the flood of suggestions. As the stream began to wind down, she and Harry took a few moments to read some of the comments and thank the viewers for tuning in. They said their goodbyes, waving at the camera and promised to do something like this again soon—though YN wasn’t sure if Harry had fully processed just how much the fans would hold him to that.

As she logged off, Harry stood from the chair and stretched his hand above his head with an exaggerated groan, revealing his belly button and the ferns peeking out from the hem of his sweatpants. She rolled the chair in his direction, resting her head against his waist with a content sigh. “Everyone loves you.”

He smiled, letting his hands fall onto her shoulders and rub them gently. “What can I say?” He hummed, a cocky sarcasm laced in his words. 

“You’re impossible.” She whispered against the wrinkled fabric of his hoodie, though the words held no bite. 

“Oh, please.” He laughed, “You enjoyed it, watching me flounder around.”

She shrugged innocently, tilting her head upward so her chin rested against his abdomen, their gaze fixed onto each other. Her smile was lazy as she parted her lips, “It was funny watching you struggle.” 

His breaths caused her head to jut softly back and forth as she continued to lean against him, his fingers running through her hair as he hummed. “Funny huh?” His tone was gentle, delicate, as his fingers ran down from her hair to caress her cheeks, making her shiver. “Y’think its a game to tease me, hm?”

She felt her pulse quicken, a tension settling around them that replaced the previous banter. “I wasn’t teasing.” She said, her voice softer than before, but the hint of a smile still played on her lips.

Harry took the teeniest step back as his hand fell from her cheek to her chin, gripping it ever so slightly. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, beckoning her mouth open. “No? Cause you’ve been doing it all night.” His voice was low, authoritative, and sent a rush of heat through her. He tutted toward her as he gazed down at her through his eyelashes, wanting her to part her lips a bit wider. His thumb slips into her mouth, the pad of it pressing down against her tongue.

“I think y’like pushing me.” He murmured, his breaths even and slow as he continued to hold her mouth open–which only allowed it to salivate even more. His eyes flickered from her lips to hers, a smile beginning to play upon his lips.

“What should we do about that, hm?” He cooed as he dragged his thumb away from her tongue, wetting her chin as his hand dropped to the side of her neck. Her own salvia glistened in the warm glow of the fairy lights around the room.

Her breath hitched as he bent at the waist, pressing a kiss onto her lips with his hand still cupping her neck. She melted into it, a heat pooling between her thighs as she felt his tongue against hers. His breath was cool with peppermint, his hair the scent of lavender and vanilla. 

They part slowly, strings of saliva snapping from the mutual disconnect. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he reaches him, gripping the back of his hoodie’s collar and pulling it off overhead. His chest rises and falls quicker than before as YN’s fingers lightly trace over the ink of the moth of his abdomen, the wings fluttering with every breath. His hands find hers as he pulls it toward the hem of his sweats. “Now,” He sighs heavily, watching her through half-lidded eyes, “be good f’me.”

She nodded as looped her fingers underneath both his sweats and his boxers, tugging them down in one continuing, slow motion until his cock slaps against the skin underneath his belly button. 

Her eyes find his, to which he grabs her chin once again, jerking it to face upward toward him. He leaned down as her lips parted, kissing her hungrily before pulling her bottom lip down gently. “Open.” He muttered, watching as she held her tongue out for him. She watched as his lips curled before spitting onto her tongue, saliva drooling from his lips to pool onto her tongue. 

She could feel her heartbeat in her core as he straightened back up, especially when he combed his digits through her hair and gripped as he reached the crown of her scalp. With her tongue still out, she neared the head of his cock—slick with precum already and the prettiest shade of pink. She swirled around the slit, watching through her eyelashes as his jaw clenched shut, a heavy exhale falling from his nose.

Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she enveloped the tip completely, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of him. She started off slow as she bobbed up and down his length, closing her inner cheeks around his cock with a hum. “Fuck.” He grunted, tightening his grip on her locks as he bucked his hips slightly. YN wrapped her hand around his length as her lips fell from his tip with a wet pop. She spat onto his cock, stroking him as she dipped her head down toward his balls, lapping and gently sucking the skin there, which had him tilt his head back in pleasure. Veins were more prominent in his neck as he groaned, the coil in his belly tightening. “Such a good girl.” He moaned softly as she wrapped her lips around his cock again, taking him deeper, her throat convulsing around the head that swelled with the threat of release. “Taking daddy’s cock so good.”

She hummed again, the reverberation causing his toes to curl against the carpet. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his fist, guiding her movements as moans continued to fall from his lips. She could feel him begin to twitch in her throat as she gagged on his length, his movements sloppy. She could feel his quickened breaths from the way his lower abdomen fluttered against her forehead. “M’close baby–” He grunted, loosening his grip on her hair only slightly. “W-where.?” He choked out in pleasure, his abs rippling and tensing under the glow of the fairy lights, glistening from sweat. 

She only trailed her hands up his bare thighs, gripping his hips as if to keep him in place. She wanted to taste him, to suck him of every drop entirely. 

His cock pulsed against her tongue as he thrusted once more into her throat, shooting white ropes of come into her mouth with a moan. Her head continued to bob as she swirled her tongue around him, licking every drop of his release to the sound of his whimpers–the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as she parts from his cock, placing a few lazy kisses along his navel with a smile. He swallows hard, brushing strands of hair from her face with a lopsided smile. “I could get use to this.” He teases breathlessly, watching as his girlfriend shrugged his pants back up his long legs with a grin. 

She stood from her chair, pulling Harry into a kiss. His tongue brushes past her lips, his knees weak at the taste of himself mingled with her saliva. She hums against him, cupping his cheek as she parts. “Don’t get use to it, pretty boy. You still sucked.”

He laughed, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink as he shot a haphazard wink toward her. “Actually baby, that was all you.”

[doromoni]

After Lunch Snacks | LN4

Part 2 of Lunch Preferences

Ships : Lando Norris x Personal Chef! Reader , Platonic! Oscar Piastri x Personal Chef! Reader

Genre : Fluff

Summary : Now that you knew Lando’s lunch preferences, it’s time to explore what’s for dessert.

A/N : I delivered on my promise for a part 2! 🫶 @smoothoperator-forever700 @same1995

Part 1.

It was universally acknowledged that Lando Norris had the palette of a 5-year-old. Always opting for the safety and comfort of spring rolls and chicken nuggets.

That is why the whole paddock had been led to a shock when Lando had admitted in an interview that he had been exploring a whole lot more options in terms of food. Why? Because he wanted to make his girlfriend, Y/N L/N happy.

* Fish Tacos

Lando and the other drivers are now gathered for the driver’s parade. The drivers might deny it, but they secretly loved doing this before the races, as this allowed them to catch up on each other’s lives.

“You ate fish? No , I don’t believe you” Carlos’ disbelief was instant — their sushi-eating fiasco immediately came to mind.

“It’s true mate! I ate Fish tacos.” Lando bragged smugly to the Spaniard.

“What’s true?” Max then joined the conversation.

“Lando said that he ate fish” Carlos mimicked what Lando said to the Dutch driver.

“Bullshit, I doubt it” Max sniggered, shaking his head.

“It’s true! Y/N cooked something for date night. “ Lando explained

“Did Y/N shove it down your throat or something?” Max asked skeptically

“WHAT? NO! But I did eat it by mistake …. I ate her meal instead of mine, so in a way it was not intentional ” As Lando continued to yap, the 2 older drivers couldn’t help but laugh. They were right to assume that Lando would not eat fish willingly when he couldn't help it.

“But when you knew that it was fish, you stopped eating? What did Y/N say?” Carlos couldn’t help but ask, finding the situation funny.

“I finished everything, Mate. It was that good! I think I could eat anything Y/N cooks” Lando implored, now a soft smile present on the Brit’s face as he remembered his girlfriend.

“Mate, you’re whipped” Max teased

“ I mean, if your girlfriend is that pretty, caring, funny, and can make stroopwaffles anytime, anywhere — you would be too” Lando rebutted with pride.

* Ube Cake

“Thank you for baking, Y/N. Lily has been craving your ube cake for a while, she’ll be so happy for this!” Oscar said happily, as he dug into his slice of cake. This boy used his girlfriend as an excuse when you know for a fact that he was the one obsessed.

You and Osc are in the McLaren Kitchen, it was just after qualifying and the two McLaren drivers had both done excellently. And when your Aussie friend had begged you to bake the cake that you brought to the f2 paddock before— you really couldn’t say no.

“ Y/N? Babe, are you in the kitchen? “ You suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice coming at a distance.

“Yup, I’m in the kitchen with Oscar” you hollered back to Lando, as you continued to slice the cake. But stopped when Osc tapped your hand, catching your attention.

“I’ll give you a thousand bucks, Lando won’t eat this when you offer him a slice” Oscar suddenly wagered to you as you saw Lando enter the room.

“You’re on Piastri, be ready to pay up!” You whispered hastily to the Australian. And you quickly schooled your facial expressions.

“Hi babe! Congratulations on qualifying. You did amazing, I’m so proud of you” You beamed up at Lando as he side-hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, baby! I love you“ Land cooed at you as he pressed his lips to yours.

“You two are gross, I regret allowing this” Oscar wagged his fork between Yau and Lando in disgust at your display of affection.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your arms finding their way to Lando’s waist.

“Oh shush it, Ohscah. No cake for you “ you tutted as you tried to pry the sweet treat away from the Australian.

“I'm joking! You and Lando are perfect together. your future babies will be beautiful and then you’ll live perfectly happy lives .” the Younger papaya driver said in haste as he held his cake closer.

“Flattery can only do so much. Piastri “ You said and Lando sneakered.

“Ohh, cake? Why is it purple though? “ Lando asked in both curiosity and a little bit of distrust.

You and Oscar meet eyes and the bet was absolutely on.

“ You want to try a bite, babe? “ You asked your boyfriend, slowly pushing a clean fork and a new slice to his side.

“What is it though?” Lando pressed but was now holding a fork and was closely inspecting the treat.

Oscar not sitting idly, and not wanting to lose 1000 dollars. Egged on Lando’s skepticism.

“You probably wouldn’t even like it. It’s made from potatoes” Oscar said looking so innocently.

You glared at your bestfriend.

“No, it’s not made from potatoes. It’s from the ube yam. I believe it’s from the Philippines. Remember the Adobo and the fried chicken from Jollibee we ate last month, this came from the same country. You tried to persuade the British driver.

“OH! I loved those. Alright, let me have a bite of this” Lando then took the fork and dug in.

“And you owe me a 1000, Oscy - wosky,” You said as you jumped in success.

“What? You bet on me?” Your boyfriend, who had icing all over his mouth asked, both betrayed and attracted by your actions.

“You bet we did, Babe. And I just won a 1000 “ you cheered kissing his cheek.

While Oscar couldn’t care less, he was just eating happily on the side.

* Paddock famous brownies

“I’m sorry , my girlfriend texted. What’s the question again?” Lando smiled broadly to the interviewer.

“Oh? What did she say?” The interviewer perked up at the mention of the british driver’s girlfriend. She had been a paddock favorite eversince she had been feeding everyone who had the pleasure of meeting her.

“She baked her brownies!” Lando cheered

And as he said that several hollers from drivers were heard from behind the camera .

“ Yo, Lando! I want one”

“Hey~ Landino , you promised me a piece last time!”

“Oi Lando , Y/N said that she baked that for us! “

[vidals-harkness]

you’re so special, to me (rio vidal)

summary: nobody loves death. rio gets told a thousand times a day how much she's hated. but in the end, when it gets hard, there's always the one 'i love you' she can rely on. life's.

pairings: rio vidal x fem!reader

fic type: fluff with a smidge of angst

warnings: talks of death

word count: 1.08k

“I hate you!” Exclaimed the grieving daughter as Rio stood near the hospital bed.

“I hate you!” Yelled the mother as Rio cradled her baby in her arms.

“I hate you!” Screamed the husband, his wife’s body delicately walking beside her.

“I hate you!” Said the father, watching her take his hurting son away.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

Day in, day out, till the clocks stopped working. Year after year, since the world began spinning. All that hate, all that resentment.

Every time she would feel those rattling breaths, the halting hearts, the tears shed by their loved ones, the blood on the floor. She would feel their pulse against her fingertips, their timers ticking slower and slower. The sand running out from the hourglass.

She would take their hand, bring them peace, and the first thing to be said was “I hate you,”

Nobody loved death. This was a fact. There were exceptions: those who ran into her embrace, those who were cast away, those who were unloved, those who had nobody.

But in the end, it was always ‘I hate you’.

She would never admit it, but despite every single century, she had sat in the darkness and wept.

She’d watch you, envious.

You’d enter a room, and joy would follow. You’d make the hearts beat again, the pulse quicken. You’d form life in the wombs, you’d make little limbs move.

“You’re beautiful,” they all said.

You were wanted, you were what they wished for. Not her.

But she loved you. She loved your radiance, the light you carried. She loved the way your blessings were gentle, divine.

You made the cycle start again, made the flowers grow, the birds sing, and the grass sway, made the breath flow steady in the air.

You were Life.

She was the one that turned it all to ash. The one who snatched the breath away. She was the one who wilted the flowers, browned the grass, silenced the birds.

She was Death.

Yet when the time for tranquility came…there you were.

I hate you, I hate you, I—

“I love you,” you whispered. One whisper silenced the shouts.

“Why don’t they want me?” She asked, her hair falling softly onto her face as she lay with you—moments of rare peace.

“They are flawed creatures, my love,” you responded, ever tranquil and reasonable. “They don’t know the aid you provide, the peace, the release,”

“Nobody wants me,” she said, her tears staining her soft cheeks. Before they could fall on her robes your soft hand caught them, tender as a feather.

“I want you,” you said plainly.

“Why? All I bring is gloom and grief,”

“What you bring is peace and tranquility, cloaked behind the mortal blindness of grief,”

She listened to your heartbeat, she felt your warmth. She’d spent lifetime after lifetime taking, but could never give anything in return. You spend lifetime after lifetime only ever giving, only to never take anything to compensate.

“Selfless creature,” she scoffed. “You give and give and give, you never take,”

You pondered for a moment. “That is the consequence, my dear,”

“How?”

“I never have anything for myself,”

“You never get told you are hated, ever,” she countered plainly.

“The boy on the roof, the girl in the ward, the criminal in the prison,” you listed out. “Many hate life, but the sacred balance unfortunately rests the highest burden upon you, my love,”

“Life cannot love death,” she said.

“Yet I love you,” you replied, sealing your words with a kiss to her forehead. “You are my balance, you are my shadow, you are my everything,”

She smiled, a rare smile that brightened her eyes and warmed her heart. Unknowingly it did the same for you. It made her cold cheeks tint pink, made your own heart flutter.

“I am destruction,” she said.

“You are the destruction from which life begins again,” you whispered, fingertips trailing along her neck. “You are the rugged beauty of the mountains, the beauty of the fall, the beauty of a dandelion, of a thunderstorm,”

She felt your words calm her racing heart, she felt it drown out the sea of insults, she felt beautiful.

“I love you,” you said, with a conviction that only an angel could muster. “I love you as the sun loves the moon, as the sky loves the earth. I will keep loving you till the timer runs out, till the last grain of sand falls in the hourglass.

“You can pillage, you can murder, you can plunder. But even then I will see your wild, wild beauty, even then I will wonder like I do each and every day, how such a beautiful soul could love me as I am,”

She leaned up, her hands her support, giving Life a kiss, giving her beloved a kiss. Your lips moved in sync, a dance of gentle and harsh, light and darkness.

As you broke away, still so close that you were breathing each other’s air. She inhaled your scent—so clearly alive. Of moss and petrichor and spring and summer. She understood why your role was what it was.

You were the embodiment of comfort, of joy, of peace. You were the reason why she could keep going without withering away and remaining a mechanical shell of herself.

“You silence the voices within my mind,” she admitted quietly, her eyes locking in on yours. “Your eyes hold the universe, and out of the tens of millions of people who say they hate me, wish ill-will upon me, you are the only one who says you love me,”

Your eyes crinkled at the sides as you smiled, the universe within those heavenly irises shifting as it twinkled. “I will spend every single moment of my eternal existence reminding you that you are loved, Rio Vidal,”

She traced the lining of your lips, your face, your eyes with her fingertips. “Are you even real?”

“I exist only for you, my love,” you smiled. “And you’re so special, to me,”

That’s all she needed.

One voice amidst the thousands. One ‘I love you’ to break through the hate.

Just one you, to help her through it all.

And so Death settled in the embrace of Life, allowing the sand in the hourglass to fall, allowing the timer to tick. Each breath, first and last, thrummed through your synchronised heartbeats, and there she just stayed, listening to the one sentence which fell from your lips.

“I love you,”

hello my bao buns! i’m sorry for the delay in my works but tumblr keeps deleting them :<. i’m working on ‘baby witch from death’ and your requests. thank you all for your patience, bao buns! i love you all!

love, jaya

[youaintnothinbuta]

"Who does he think he is?" — Austin Butler x reader

Summary: you and Austin are attending an awards show when your ex, a popular singer performs a song clearly aimed at yours and Austin’s (much happier) relationship.

Pairing: austin butler x reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: fluff! Toxic ex, protective austin

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Austin, dressed to the nines, sat in the front row of the grand hall, your fingers intertwined with his. Hollywood’s finest gathered under one roof. Celebrities mingled and photographers captured moments, their cameras flashing like a thousand tiny stars. Austin, looking handsome as per usual in his suit, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’d already swept up a few awards, which were being kept safe with his manager, wherever she was. But when the host walked back up on stage to announce the next musical performance in between awards, a sense of dread filled you.

"And now, please welcome to the stage... (your ex’s name)!" The crowd erupted in applause as he, a popular singer, and more important the guy who showed you exactly what you didn’t want in a relationship stepped onto the stage.

Austin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of unease. You forced a smile. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, and your breakup with him had been anything but amicable.

He grabbed the microphone, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. A sly smile spread across his face, and your stomach churned.

"This song," he began, his voice smooth and dripping with intent, "is dedicated to a special someone in the audience tonight."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, heads turning to look at you. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your grip on Austin’s hand tightening. You leaned closer to him, whispering, “This is humiliating.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want to leave?” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the applause as he began to sing. The song’s lyrics were painfully obvious, a lament about a girl leaving and finding happiness elsewhere—clearly aimed at you and your new relationship with Austin.

Maybe only 20 seconds into the performance, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You squeezed Austin’s hand, your way of telling him you wanted to go, and without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up, pulling you with him. He walked you out of the room, the curious gazes of celebrities and cameras trailing after you.

Once outside, you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes. Your composure shattered, tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in your eyes. He lifts a finger up to your eyes, drying them before you could ruin your makeup.

"Who does he think he is?" You exclaimed, your voice quivering. "That was so embarrassing, Austin. How could he do that?"

Austin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. I promise he’s embarrassing himself more than you."

You buried your face in his chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat. "Do we go back in?" You asked, her voice muffled. "There were already so many cameras on us."

Austin kissed the top of your head, stroking your back gently. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? We can leave if you want, or we can go back in there."

You took a deep breath. "I don’t want to let him ruin our night. Let’s go back in. But can we wait until he’s done?"

"Of course," Austin said, his voice soothing. "We’ll take our time."

You stayed in your secluded corner for a while longer, Austin holding you close, whispering reassurances and planting gentle kisses on your forehead. Eventually, the sound of applause signaled the end of his performance, and the energy shifted back to excitement for the next performer.

Austin looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love. "Ready?" he asked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

"Ready," you replied.

Hand in hand, you made your way back into the hall, your heads held high. The moment you re-entered, the atmosphere shifted again. As you took your seats, Austin leaned in close and whispered, "I’m so proud of you."

You smiled. "Thank you, Aus."

You grabbed his face, planting a deep kiss on his lips, just to really drive your point home. The rest of the evening passed without incident. You enjoyed watching other actors and directors win their awards and mingled with friends.

[astralis-ortus]

placebo effect

✱ boyfriend!bc × fem!reader

— maybe the actual remedy is his smile.

w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warnings → reader is sick :(, mild cussing, kissing, cute pet names (baby, love, princess) and generally very much in love it makes me sick >:( heh a.n → based on this request! kinda speeding through this (immediately worked on this after i posted the last fic), but i am in need of just pure fluff so here we are, a few hours later. heh♡ ⋆ see masterlist

being sick felt like shit.

growing up, you’ve always been the kid with perfect attendance. be it in school or throughout uni, you’ve always made the effort to attend every single one of your classes—and one of the reasons was all because you rarely ever got sick. maybe it’s because of your parents’ good genes, or likely due to how your mom made sure you always took your daily vitamins, but you’re always known as one the healthiest kids in the class.

that record, however, ended after you graduated a few years back.

you’d like to blame it the shift of environment—you know, given that you literally flew thousands of miles away to chase your lifelong dream, but considering you also moved states away from home for uni… that likely wasn’t the case.

“hey there, sleepyhead.”

a soft groan rolled off your lips when you felt your bed dip to your boyfriend’s weight, his fingers gently ran through your surely messy hair. your attempt to crack a peek at chris wasn’t quite a success, considering how even the slightest bleeding light from the gap behind your curtain was quick to trigger the soft throb in your head to return, fetching another set of low whimpers out of you.

“it’s okay, baby. i’m here. how’s your headache?” he hummed; pads of his fingers now gently pressed against the base of your head as he attempted to relief any pain that might still linger.

chris, your angel of a boyfriend, had been taking care of you since your condition started to decline the day prior. despite your stubbornness about still going to work (which didn’t end well, considering you were sent home by lunch anyway), chris didn’t even peep a word and readily picked you up from work, all geared up with your favorite porridge and cold medicine he picked up on the way.

“it’s fine as long as i don’t open my eyes,” you meekly answered, voice still noticeably very different from your usual cheery ones. “which reminds me, we do need a black out curtain, hun.”

his chuckle filled the rather quiet bedroom, involuntarily tugging the corner of your pale lips into a smile. “we’ll get them after you’re all better, baby,” he assured, hand that rested on the back of your neck now pressed against your forehead, “fever’s pretty much gone. think you could sit up for a bit? gotta fill your tummy with food before the meds, love.”

you know he’s right—you do need to eat, but with the way you’re currently feeling, protesting at any request to shift your body was the only available option.

“can i just eat later?” you pursed your lips, attempting to appeal your plea with a dash of cuteness you knew chris have a hard time standing his ground against. “maybe sleeping more will help…”

“nuh uh, no can do, princess,” chris gently tapped his finger on the tip of your nose, “you need the meds. the food too, but most importantly your meds. i don’t want your suffering to prolong just because you didn’t get your meds on time,” he reasoned, pads of his fingers now gently massaging the top of your head and in turn made you sigh in relief. chris always knew what to do whenever you complained about a headache, and you’re grateful for that.

“fiiine,” you exaggerated, reaching out your arms as a signal for chris to help you up. even with your eyes closed, you knew he had that proud grin etched on his lips when he gently pulled you to sit straight. you winced at the ache, but voiced no complaint as chris planted a light kiss on your scrunched forehead.

“a sec, okay? i’ll bring the radish soup for you,” chris left another kiss on the top of your head, grinning at how excitedly you reacted to the kind of food he had prepared before you heard his disappearing footsteps.

you forced a peek around the room, noticing the dim lighting as chris kept the curtains closed for your comfort. after a quick scan of your and chris’ bedroom, one you’ve been spending a little too much time in for the past couple of days, your line of sight then rested upon your locked phone. a single tap on the screen, and the action easily made your brows furrow.

“babe—”

“chris, it’s 10am on a thursday,” you pointed out as soon as you heard his voice from just beyond the slightly ajar door, “didn’t you say things has been hectic lately?”

“well, yeah,” he shrugged, careful footsteps finally returned to your side, followed by the dip on your bed, “but you’re sick. getting you back to health is a lot more important to me than anything else.”

“christopher,” you groaned, pursing your lips in protest, “i told you to not do things like this! you’re important, what you do is important. you can’t let me stop you from doing all that!”

“but i’m not letting you,” he replied nonchalantly, blowing on the spoonful of soup and rice before he feeds you. “it is my decision. i want to take care of you, and nothing is more important for me than you. as simple as that.”

“but—”

“no more discussion on that matter, baby,” chris warned you, stern gaze immediately shutting off any complaints about to leave your tongue. “it’s on me. you’re my girlfriend, and to take care of you is what i need to do, because i love you and i want all the best for you. okay?”

maybe it’s the fever returning, but you could feel your cheeks warming up.

“…fine.”

with his lips blooming into a content smile, his hand returned to the steady flow of bowl-cooling off-feeding you. he’s happy, and it’s apparent through the way his gaze lingers on you every time you take another bite, slowly finishing the bowl of food in his hand.

maybe it’s your head fooling you with some kind of placebo effect, but you do feel better—simply by watching the tenderness in his face every time he looks at you.

“all done,” he cheerily announced after you took your last bite, gently wiping the corners of your lips with the pad of his thumb. “be back with the meds, okay? just a sec.”

his movements immediately ceased when he felt a tug on the t-shirt he’s wearing, eyes immediately returning to you in worry. “yes, love?”

you quietly looked at him, suddenly feeling a little shy—but why would you be?

“…you.”

“huh?” chris blinked, head involuntarily tilted to one side in confusion. “what was that, love?”

oh god.

“i really wanna kiss you,” you reiterated, lips slightly pursed in embarrassment, “but i don’t want you to catch the cold. but like—you’re just so adorable. why are you like this? i’m—"

any thoughts you had immediately vaporized as soon as you felt chris’ soft lips on yours—smile apparent against your lips. his warm hand gently cradled your cheek, and despite it being short, chris successfully left you feeling dazed.

“…wait,” you eventually blinked, face burning in embarrassment when you realized the cheeky grin he’s sporting just inches away from your face. “christopher! you’re gonna get sick!”

“well, what do you expect me to do?” chris shrugged as he walked backwards, away from you,

“my girlfriend said she wanted to kiss me—how could i say no to that?”

“gosh—christopher!”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[syluriar]

vunerable - sylus x mc!reader

sypnosis: sylus has never been one to give up control, so you try and help him.

a/n: inspired by @yes-no-maybe-soo i legit just read your sylus hc's today and my brain scrambles to write this because althoug i love sylus bing a sub, you made some excellent points of it being hard for him to give up control because of what he went through in his past life (still haven't recovered, anyone else?).

contains: sylus being scared to give up control and not liking these feelings, mc (you) being so gentle with him. there's a slight mention of attmepted murder from sylus' enemies in the past. sylus crying (of that ever happens in game i swear to god-). angst & comfort.

word count: 1381

you straddle him with your hands resting at his hips, his chest is bare that allows you to see his breathing clearer. he's watching you with those ruby eyes you love so much, but you can see a bit of fear in them, unsurprising at the vulnerable position he's in.

it was your idea to do this, to give him the attention he gives you - the warmth, safety and consent. he knows you would never hurt him, but the image of losing all his control reminds him of his past life, as the dragon who has been beaten and chained for thousands of years. when the past you finally freed him he was determined to take control of his life, to never go back to the scared dragon.

he adores you, and you know that, he would do anything for you...but to give up all control, even if it is just you who takes it away...fear creeps back into him.

you lift a hand and reach up to caress his cheek which he immediately nuzzles into to, and he kisses the palm before releasing a sigh,

"it's only me," your voice is so soft, just louder than a whisper, like it was coaxing an animal out of it's shelter. you lean up and cup his face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "i'm the only one that's here."

you take one on your hands to gently run through his hair, an action that has him close his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and it makes your heart swell. "we can stop anytime you like, ok?"

a hum comes from his lips as he opens his eyes, and you see that small amount of fear has been replaced by something else.

he hates that you have to him like this, like he's weak, like he's a scared child who needs comforting - he doesn't like that he's showing this side to you, because how can you depend on him if he doesn't stay strong in front of you?

you kiss his forehead and you can feel some of the tension leave his body. a part of you wants to do this fats, you show sylus that yes of course, he can be like this with you, there's no shame and it and you'll always ben there for him , but you need to take it slow. you will show him all these things by listening to him, both words and body. you don't care how long it will take, because it's what he deserves.

you start to leave kisses all over his face, his cheeks, nose, even his chin that makes a small amused huff leave his lips. you're still gentle when you finally place your lips over his own, his hands coming to hold your waist. at any other moment it would be intense, fingers digging into clothing as your tongues fight each other.

but right now it's soft, like a perfect fluffy cushion you relax in. sylus groans at your mouth and you feel good knowing he does too. you see it in his eyes when you pull away, and the slight pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

you giggle. "do you know how cute you look when you blush?"

he sucks in a breath, clearly surprised by your compliment. "cute?" he looks almost amused. "that not a word people associate with me."

"well they don't know you like i do." you give his lips a quick peck to his lips before your hands descend lower to his shoulders, a lot looser than before. "i kinda like it that way."

"and you call me possessive." he chuckles. the air around you two has become easier, the tension slowly fading away.

for some reason your eyes go to his neck, such a strong thing that often aches because of how much he has to look down at you. you move your hands towards his neck, his sharp intake making you freeze.

"oh..." how could you forget a lot of his enemies go for his neck? a common way to end someones life. you felt stupid. "sorry...i was going to massage it. it aches because of how much you have look down on me, doesn't it?"

he doesn't answer you, his eyes cast aside as he continues to breath heavily. your heart aches at the sight and you retract your hands, placing one back on his cheek. "hey, remember, your still in control. stay stop and i will."

his breath shudders and his shoulders tense up once more, his hands now gripping your waist. he sucks through gritted teeth and turns his head away, as if he was ashamed of himself. 

your heart sings with distress at the sight and you want to feel anger of the people that have made sylus this way, but what good will that do here? 

sylus…” you lean your head to meet him and see something shine from his eyes, falling down his cheek.

a tear.

“oh…” you couldn’t hold back at your reach to brush it away, but when your skin makes contact he flinches, and it makes you want to cry yourself. “it’s me, my love. only me. i’m here.” you brush the tear away, fingers gently thumbing in his cheek to help calm him. 

a strangled noise comes from his throat. “i don’t…i didn’t want you to see me like this…” his voice is in a tone you’ve never heard before, one of pain and distress.

“like what?” you reply softly.

he doesn’t answer straight away and you wait patiently, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders like he had done to yours in times like this. 

“like i am weak, scared…vulnerable.”

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, each piercing you harshly through the heart. “sylus…there’s nothing with you feeling any of those things.”

“i need to be strong for you.”

“do the strong always require to be strong?”

repeating his own words to him hit him like bricks, his eyes widening and lips parted in shock. ever so gently you cradle his face, his eyes still looking away from you. “wasn’t it you who said that?”

“...it’s not the same.”

“how isn’t it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply, so you keep talking. “i don’t need you to be strong for me sylus. don’t you think there’s a strongness in being those things? weak, scared and vulnerable?...to me there is.”

your words make him finally look at you, his eyes still holding surprise. “...there is?”

you nod. “even plants and animals have those types of feelings, so you having them is normal. showing them to me is…letting yourself be loved by me even more than you do now. it shows that you trust me to see you this way, and trust me that i won’t turn you away.” 

you lean forward and turn his face to you before grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your chest, your heart beating loudly underneath. “trust me that i will always be patient with you, that i will never rush you and listen to what you say,”

you grab his other hand and bring it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles and palm before placing it over your cheek. “and trust me that i will always love you, no matter what.”

he hears your love, your utter devotion to him that makes his heart sing. he stares at you with such loving eyes one might say they never knew it existed, but it’s right here, right in this room and in each other's arms.

he kisses you with such intensity, with such love that it almost makes you fall. with your hands on his shoulders you meet his passion, his devotion, his affection and so much more. he cradles your face as your lips part, heavy breaths falling from both. 

“i love you too, my beloved, so so much.”

he holds you tightly with his head buried in your neck, your arms around his neck and brushing through his hair.

you don’t care how many times this needs to happen, to assure him of your love and devotion, of your patient and his consent. 

because you will never, ever hurt him - he deserves better.

[snoopyhughes]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

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

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[celesteleoves]

“DAMN, IT FEELS GOOD TO HAVE YOU.”

gojo satoru X reader.

summary: satoru never fails to showcase his love for you, even in the most serious moments.

warnings: none, just fluff!! (profanities are used…)

a/n: there is mentions of satorus infinity and before anyone corrects me on how it’s used, for the sake of this work, let’s ignore that. please send requests aswell!

-

“i like your eyes.” the 17 year old boy mumbled as he gazed into your eyes, your cheeks flushed and you pushed his head away.

“shut up, satoru.” you turned your face away from his as you two sat on a roof, admiring the sunset.

“never. life is a thousand times better when i’m with you. everything about you is like a refresher to me. damn, it feels good to have you.” satoru whispered as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, lifting his arm to move your hair out of your face.

you stared at your lover, mouth agape at his words. satoru never failed to showcase his love for you, even when you two were “just friends”. it’s different now, you have a label on your relationship.

you’d pray he’d stop with the sappy moments at some point, they almost bring you to tears everytime. he made you feel like you were worth more than you actually were.

“satoru, baby, enough. i’m gonna start crying.”

-

so, as the years went by, satoru never stopped showering you with those sappy moments your teen self adored to the core.

you two walked alongside each other, your students were training with the second years which meant you two could take a little walk around jujustu tech.

“your ass looks good in that uniform.” satoru spoke up, making you blush furiously.

now, his compliments were a bit outrageous, but some were sweet!

“gojo!”

“gojo?! not satoru, sheesh babe you’re hurting my heart.” he clutched his heart in fake agony as you rolled your eyes and lightly shoved his shoulder, expecting not to be able to touch him.

his infinity was off. normally, he has it on at all times. you’ve grown accustomed to the random moments where you two are together and all of a sudden you can no longer touch him because of the barrier his infinity creates.

“what’s up?” satoru notices your furrowed brows and frowns, his blindfold masking the adoration and worry that is present in his eyes.

“nothing. was just thinking about stuff.”

“you’re pretty when you’re concentrated on something. gosh, you’re always pretty.” satoru grinned as he walked closer to you, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“i-” your words were forced to come to a halt when satoru’s phone rang.

“hello! gojo satoru speaking. oh. right now? alright. y/n and i will be there in a second.”

you tilted your head in confusion as he hung up the phone, making a disgusted noise.

“meeting with kyoto and the higher ups, for the exchange event.” satoru sighed and pulled you close to him, quickly arriving at the meeting room.

you sighed aswell, following satoru into the room as he loudly announced himself.

“hey! thought we had a meeting two days ago. what’s up with this? you interrupted my precious time with a pretty lady.” satoru faked cried as your face flushed, moving to take a seat beside shoko who was already rolling her eyes at his behaviour.

“take a goddamn seat, satoru.”

“woah, don’t get too feisty! not here!” satoru kept making jokes, your laughter being muffled by the arm of your uniform as you fake coughed.

satoru turned his attention to you, grinning even wider when he noticed you were struggling to stay formal.

he wasn’t making jokes for anyone else to laugh, he just wanted to see you smile. your perfect smile lightened up the whole room. it’s a shame you have to hide it around the higher ups when you are in meetings.

satoru tuned out everything principal yaga was saying, staring at you. he admired how concentrated you looked and how carefully you were listening to yaga’s words. he was talking about the students and you cherished them with your whole being. their safety was first priority and you always made that very clear with those around you.

he admired you, admired your motherly instincts you have that you claim to not have at all. he couldn’t wait to settle down with you, his beautiful wife. you weren’t married, you couldn’t be in a world like this. yet, he always called you his wife.

“gojo satoru, you ought to start listening as of right now.” yaga scowled and satoru leaned back into his seat, folding his arms as he grinned at yaga.

“sorry, yaga! i’m too focused on my wife’s beauty.” satoru grinned even wider at his words as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

you gasped, covering your face with one hand as you listened to satorus uncalled for words.

“alright, you two, leave. we can discuss this later, y/n please smack some sense into him.” yaga tiredly said as he waved you two out.

satoru was up in a second, dashing out the door with you.

“satoru! that was so uncalled for!”

“i know, that’s why i said it.”

“you’re such a little-”

“tease? ooh! didn’t know we were getting frisky in public spaces now.”

“satoru!” you laughed in disbelief and shoved him again as he giggled, following you down the hallway with love in his eyes.

“i love you,” he paused as you stopped and turned to him, “that’s why i say stuff like that, you deserve compliments every second of the day and i will continue to give them as long as i’m breathing.”

“you’re such a sap, i love you too.” you said with a soft tone, embracing satoru in a hug which he gladly returned, lifting you up and laughing.

you laughed alongside your husband, a man who you swear to be with until you can no longer breathe.

-

a/n: this was so lazy, yikes. there’s a shit ton of spelling errors but i’ll make up for it in my next work! please send requests aswell.

[kkayyerr]

Secret.

Summary: Litte!reader accidentally telling Rafe about little!JJ’s bruises that he got from the fight with Luke, and Rafe can’t stand a thoughts about him getting hurt by his father again.

Warnings: Age regression, heavy angst, talking about domestic violence and abuse, fluffy ending.

It was almost a month since JJ moved to Tannyhill and started living with you and Rafe. He was more open about his regression and other struggles now, even though he still kept some distance from Rafe. He kept his relationship with his father a secret, not wanting to talk about all the abuse that had been going on in his house for years now. JJ tried to not pull up his shirt too much, hiding all the bruises that had been left there by his father. The boy knew that conversation about his dad would make him too vulnerable for his likings; he didn’t want Rafe to see him like that, at least not yet. 

However, one day the whole situation had completely changed.

You and JJ were playing in the living room when you unintentionally pulled up his hoodie while both of you were playfully fighting. Your heart dropped when you saw all those bruises and scars on his stomach and ribs. Even in the regressed state, you knew what it meant. And you also knew that in those kinds of situations you need to call for Daddy.

You stormed out of the room before JJ could've stopped you, rushing to the kitchen where Rafe was sitting, probably dealing with some business problems. His face brightened for a second when he saw you, but his expression quickly darkened when he saw that scared look on your face. 

 

„What’s wrong, kid?”

 

 

You approached him, trying to find a proper way to explain the situation. JJ wouldn’t ask for help because he was too afraid of being seen as „weak”, so you had to do that for him instead. 

 

„JJ got boo-boos on his tummy.”

 

After hearing your words, Rafe had closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. He knew that JJ’s relationship with his father wasn’t the best, but he didn’t know just how far that asshole might’ve gone. He clenched his jaw before getting up from where he was sitting and approaching you. Rafe gave you a little comforting kiss on the forehead, silently letting you know that he’s proud of you for telling him. 

 

„Grab the car keys, baby, and wait for us outside. We’ll be there in a minute."

 

You knew that it wasn’t one of the situations where you get to ask a thousand questions, so you just did as you were told, grabbing the keys and going outside to wait for them by Rafe’s car. 

He left the kitchen, heading to the living room. When he entered, he saw JJ sitting on the floor and hugging his knees. He probably was regressing, and he also probably was mad at you for telling Rafe about the bruises. Rafe crouched down in front of him, gently caressing the boy’s knee with his hand just to get his attention. JJ finally looked up; his eyes were so empty, and it seemed to make Rafe’s heart ache for a second. 

Why would that asshole hurt him like that? 

 

„Go away.”

 

JJ muttered, feeling embarrassed and weak, now that his secret came out. His whole life he was way too afraid of asking for help. It was so hard for him to accept it either. 

Rafe had to quickly calm himself down. He won’t let JJ get back to that house, that’s for sure. 

Rafe’s hands grabbed the fabrics of JJ’s hoodie. He wanted to look at the bruises himself just to make sure that the professional help won’t be needed. JJ, however, didn’t want him to see that. He gently slapped his hands away, not wanting to be touched at all right now. Rafe raised his hands up in the air, showing that he won’t touch the boy without his permission. 

 

„I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

 

He said reassuringly. JJ’s gaze softened, and his hand loosened the grip that he was holding on his hoodie, trying to hide all the evidence of the abuse. 

 

„Can you pull it up a little bit, please?”

 

JJ hesitated for a minute, even though Rafe’s words sounded pretty convincing. He just wanted to help, that’s all. His words were sincere, and the voice was soft, making him finally do what he was asked to, pulling up the shirt and demonstrating his completely bruised belly.

Rafe sighed, trying to keep his temper in check, even though it was pretty hard. He quickly helped JJ pull down the hoodie, then helped him get up from the floor. 

 

„We’re going to your house, and I’m picking up all of your stuff. You’re not getting back there, understood?”

 

Rafe’s voice was stern, but he wasn’t mad at JJ. He was mad at himself for not noticing the signs of his suffering for almost a month, even though it was so obvious. Maybe he was just too busy struggling himself to notice it. 

His lips formed a little faded smile when JJ finally nodded. Rafe almost sighed with relief, knowing that he won’t have to beg him to leave his abusive household. 

He had to gently hold JJ’s hand while leading him out of the house and to the car, because the boy was trembling from all the stress that he had relieved while having to look back at all the awful things that his dad had done to him. 

You smiled at both of them, opening Rafe’s car with the key in your hand. Rafe helped you and JJ to get in the car, buckling both of you up immediately after. 

He got into the driver’s seat, starting the car and looking at JJ in the rearview mirror. 

 

„You okay?”

 

The question was rhetorical. He knew that the boy wasn’t okay. His body was shaking, and his eyes were starting to tear up, probably just from thoughts of seeing his father again. There was nothing that Rafe could’ve done to help right now, and it was bothering him. 

You saw that JJ was trembling and immediately hugged him, holding him close while he was fighting back tears. 

 

„Dada's gonna pwotect us, don’ worry.”

 

Rafe smiled at that statement, knowing that it was true. He checked his glove box once more, smirking a little bit when he saw his gun in its place. Luke was about to get a long, painful conversation. 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[97linelover]

did you hear what the rumor said ? - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: Dating as Idols means, keeping it a secret. Rumors will spread, people will get hurt.

What if this one Rumor brings you over the edge and you no longer can handle this Secret?

content: Idol Mingyu x Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff,

wc: 1.4 k

a/n: I always think about, how tiring it must be for Idols to date, or to just meet people. How they need to keep everything a Secret. I would not want to trade with that.

If there's one thing the companies will teach you at the start of your career, it's handling rumors.

There will be rumors about everything. At the beginning, they will start small, but as the group grows, the rumors grow.

Ever since your debut, the rumors have been huge. Hybe's newest Girlband was rumored to be found by Woozi.

"Y/N Spotted Leaving the Seventeen Mansion"

"Y/N and Mingyu were spotted together at a luxury dinner; they were pretty cozy."

"Seventeen Mingyu was spotted with hickeys after a dinner date with Y/N."

So, as you may have guessed, the rumors were about you and Mingyu dating, and the funny thing was, the rumors were true. You met Mingyu while you were just applying for the Hybe Auditions; you could not find the door, and you bumped into him.

He kindly guided you to the right room, and from that moment on, every time you two spotted each other, you actually ended up hanging out.

And ever since he took you out on a date, you two have been officially a couple.

3 years together, and no one knows except your closest friends. It was like a routine, going to work separated but ending together on the couch. You were each other's comfort after a long work day.

But of course, those were not the only rumors. When you joined Enhypen in their dance challenge, Jay was looking at you with the brightest smile, and you jumped on his back. With that, a new ship was built, and Mingyu saw the headlines first. You rushed to his studio, where he was busy recording. You saw how his eyes were dull, and you just walked into the booth, hugging him.

"Only you, Gyu," you whispered while looking up at him. "Those rumors are getting out of control," he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. "We just need to remember who we belong to, baby, you and me." You pulled him closer, "only us." He agreed, kissing you softly.

Meanwhile, the rumors did not stop you; you both just got better at ignoring them.

Mingyu was currently on a Japan tour, and you were busy with the upcoming comeback. The traveling made everything a lot harder, but you were getting better at handling it.

After you suggested that you want to watch their final Japan show, Mingyu declined, telling you that you need to rest, and there's actually no spot anyway. You wished him good luck and watched the livestream. You were always amazed by your boyfriend's talent.

When you scrolled through Twitter, you saw the new trending hashtag #mingyuSomi.

She was at the concert wearing the Mingyu Nana tour shirt; everyone shipped them; they always said they were the perfect match. You felt your heart hurt at that.

But when the concert finished, the normally post-concert call did not come through. It was a ritual you two had; whenever one finished a show, they would call and just say how they were feeling. They were never skipped.

and when you saw the new headlines, you felt your heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

Mingyu was spotted leaving the venue with a giggling smile on his arm. "Seventeen Mingyu and Jeon Somi were spotted leaving the stadium after Seventeen's final Japan tour." You wanted to swipe it away, but you could not.

"Jeon Somi and Kim Mingyu are known for their flirty relationship; tonight the two idols were spotted giggling and touching with each other; Mingyu apparently even joined her in the car, and they went out for a romantic Italian dinner. We think it's the minimum he could do for his girlfriend that joins him at the final show."

You did not notice the tears running down your cheek; you did not notice how you suddenly realized the situation—that she was there with him while you were sitting at home waiting for his call.

Even if this was just a rumor at this exact moment, it broke your heart. You knew Somi, and you knew that she was in love with Mingyu. This made it even worse.

You waited for his call the entire night, but the only thing you were left with were paparazzi pictures of them out in a club.

The only thing that could help you the next day was focusing on your comeback. You drowned yourself in work, and you ignored your boyfriend. You ignored his messages, and you ignored his calls.

You were being childish; you knew it; you were clouded by the pain you felt.

Without a safe flight message, you could not focus, so when you typed that in, you saw that he directly read the message. You quickly put your phone away, starting the music for practice.

When the evening came, you went home; you could not stay at his place. You don't even know what broke you exactly, but maybe the fact that everyone wanted them to be real while you were just watching him ditch you.

You began to cut some veggies and fry some chicken and sat down on the couch. You were busy watching Grey's Anatomy when you heard your door beep. Before you knew it, a furious Mingyu was standing in front of you. He was dressed in some joggers and the matching hoodie. He looked tired and clearly exhausted from the flight.

"Gyu," your widened eyes watched every step. "What the fuck has happened?" He crossed his arms and said, "Your ignoring me for two days and then your staying at your place?" He was angry. "I felt like it," you said with furrowed eyebrows. "You felt like it? You're lying now at me?" He grew mad, and you got up.

"I did not want to see you," you stated. "What the fuck? I missed you, and I could not wait to come back home, and now this?" He scoffed. "Maybe Somi would be happier," you muttered.

"Care to repeat that?" He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe Somi would be happy to have you home, my love," you said sarcastically, and he let out a huff. "What are you on about?"

"You told me that I don't need to come, that there is no space, and then I see fucking Somi there." You felt the tears. "You spent the entire night with her, and you forgot about me; you forgot our ritual." You blinked away the tears. "So this is the reason why I don't want to see you."

Mingyu was speechless. "And you don't think about talking to me? This is fucking ridiculous," he let out a laugh. "I DID NOT UTTER A WORD WHEN EVERYONE THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING JAY," he yelled, and you flinched.

If there is one thing, Mingyu never yells.

"ALL THOSE DUMB VIDEOS OF YOU TWO ALL OVER MY TIK TOK." You could not move at his outburst, and you could only stare at him in shock. When he realized that he had yelled at you, he gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but you just let out a sob. "I think you should go," you whispered while turning around. "Apperantly, we're not that good at ignoring the rumors," you added while sitting down.

"Baby, I did not mean to yell," he whispered. "I'm tired, and I'm just so exhausted." He said with a pleading tone, "That's why you should go home; we should not discuss this right now; it will only end in a fight." You smiled sadly.

"I love you, Jagiya," he said while walking towards the door. "I love you too, but I don't want to be a rumor anymore," you sobbed. "Goodnight.".

You heard the door closing, and not even a minute later, you got a notification.

"Mingyu: Date nights only with you. 🔐❤️"

You saw that he posted a photo you took of him with you tagged, and you gasped. The blanket flew to the side, and you hurried to the door.

When you opened it, he was standing in front of the door looking at you. "You did not just confirm our relationship." You were at a loss for words, and he grinned at you. "I want you to be my only true rumor." He pulled you close and softly wiped your tears away.

"Please don't ever think anyone could be better than you; I love you with my entire heart; my family loves you; my sister sees you as the sister she always wanted; I could never love someone more like I love you.".

You softly kissed him and said, "So now let's talk about the monster performance." You pulled him inside.

[izvmimi]

cw: post archon war, current time period. reader is a goddess. a little melancholy. mature but no overt smut.

“You’ve never taken a lover, have you, Morax?”

You mean your voice to be light, and it is, breathy with the levity conferred by a profoundly good fuck, a warm flush to your complexion still representative of your lingering affection for him. His eyes, lidded shut in quiet contemplation, open languidly and he turns, golden eyes on you and gleaming, quick to sense the playfulness in your voice.

“In this manner, do you mean to mock my technique?” he asks. His voice is low, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your loosely interlaced fingers.

You shift, pressing your legs together, and turning in his direction to face him. Your foreheads barely touch, and your lips remain just inches apart, as if they hadn’t connected frequently over the course of the night. He looks at them not hungrily but with tempered greed, like another kiss would be an overindulgence.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He sighs, and chooses not to kiss you yet, but pulls you closer. You adjust, resting your head on his chest, your fingers untangling from each other so that you can gently tap them against his chest. A few moments pass, and then he’s quick to take your hand again in his palm, bringing the fingertips to his lips. 

“But you do dare. I do now have to admit, I’m worried, that somehow you may not be satisfied with our time together.”

His voice is steady still and if he’s truly hurt and not just playing along with your joke, you won’t catch it. But he’s still handling you tenderly, and your desire for closeness persists. Throwing your knee over his waist is not enough; even the sensation of his body inside yours, filling you deeply, is not enough. 

You’re not sure yet what you want.

“I enjoy our time together always.” Your reminder is sincere, sweetly delivered.

“I could enthuse you in other things,” Zhongli asks. His eyes are to the ceiling, while yours are on him. “There are many games I have yet to teach you, perhaps over wine or tea.”

The idea of losing a game that you don’t understand in a foreign land doesn’t particularly enthuse you quite at all, but of course, you are a guest. A well taken care of guest, in fact, and often you wonder how many friends he’s made to replace the ones he’s lost over the eons - even if you’ve remained a constant from back then, gods often struggle to keep close relationships whether it’s among themselves or with mortals. You consider that Zhongli at least appears to be well loved in this new era, even if he keeps an air of seriousness around him that may push others away.

You wonder if he’s doing this with anyone else.

“You’d have me taste osmanthus wine again?” you ask him. 

“Why not?”

In a swift roll, you move so that you’re on top of him, and his arms rest around the base of your waist. Squishing his cheeks gently, then reveling in how his generally stoic countenance softens at your playfulness, you smile.

“I’m flattered. It’s been over a thousand years.”

Zhongli lets out a chuckle, pulling the covers to shield you from the cold of the early morning, the windows having remained open a crack to let out the smell of the incense you burned last night to pray for the dearly departed. It’s a tradition you’ve had with him for quite a while now, if only because it’s within your particular expertise to do so - that, and whatever this is, serving each other physically most of the night into the early morning and idle chat in the daytime.

It’s supposedly good for you, to expel that excess energy and to help him expel his, but sometimes you wonder.

“Zhongli.”

You use his mortal name sparingly, and it often catches his attention more readily than when you call him by his other name.

“Yes?” He is quick to respond, glowing amber oh so charitable to your thoughts.

How silly it is to call for his attention when he is right in front of you. 

You take a deep breath, then blurt out, “I know you would call this divine cultivation but I have no desire for more power in any way, shape, or form. Plus, I am quite balanced spiritually at this stage of my existence.”

He pauses.

“I understand.” His hand finds its way to caress your cheek gently, and you try not to let it distract you from your next statement.

“And what if I suggested also, that potentially, you yourself, might have enough?” To this, he sighs, and lets his hand drop.

“You are not wrong.”

Your heart skips a beat and soon you can no longer look at him, pressing your head against his chest instead for this next question.

“So what do we call this?” You finally ask. You want him to call it love but you don’t ask for it, and you’re embarrassed to fish deeper, and yet…

Humans have sex - rather, make love - for pleasure. You would like to do the same, rather than pretend that there is some higher purpose to the way you make each other feel, some greater meaning to your cries and moans of pleasure.

You can feel the heave in his chest as he responds.

“Claiming a moment for myself… chasing a feeling does not end well for me.”

You look into his eyes again, let his words flow into you. 

“No sooner than I claim something as my own, would it find its way far from me.”

You rise.

“Morax…”

You’ve called him by his old name again, and he laughs, but you are not laughing. Your face is warm and your heart pounds.

“Are you telling me that you care about me or not?”

The timing must be right again, because soon you are flipped under him, and he presses his lips against yours again, his hand cupping your face.

“I don’t control fate the way I would like to. Not anymore.”

You pull in a breath sharply, then whisper:

“A decision you made and can easily overturn.”

He shakes his head.

“A contract.”

Your arms wrap around his neck again.

“Anything can be renegotiated,” you remind him. Your lips graze again, and another sigh escapes the both of you.

“Not death,” he reminds you. He has you there. Your lips pull into a sad smile automatically.

“And thus in calling you my lover-” Zhongli continues.

“I did not ask you to call me your lover, I simply asked-” you start, shame sending flame through your body. He smiles before he interjects again.

“I run the risk of adding you to the list of things that exist to me only in memory.”

Your blood runs cold suddenly, and he finally pulls back from you, rising out of bed to stand. 

“We should begin our day,” he states, matter-of-factly. His hair is tousled still, the long lengths contrasting sharply against pristine pale skin, and you watch him in naked form move across the room to close the windows, the simple action fulfilled with the fluidity and grace of someone who’s probably existed long before time itself. Still grand, still heavenly. While he is undoubtedly calm, your heart thumps in beat with the tempest of thoughts in your mind.

Zhongli loves you, and it’s obvious. To call you dear out loud to him is akin to marking you for loss. Are you comfortable being loved if it will only add to his pain? Must you claim more than just the moments shared between the two of you?

“Zhongli,” you start, as he is just about to walk out of the room. He stops abruptly, and turns in your direction. He doesn’t say a word, just waits for you to speak. 

“I will not die,” you say out loud. You’re sitting up and perhaps now, you are the opposite of strength, looking painfully vulnerable in the way you’ve gathered soft sheets to cover your bosom, in sharp contrast to Zhongli who bothers not to hide anything, uncontested power personified.

For a moment, you can tell that he’s surprised by your declaration, and yet you press on.

“I will stay. Perhaps, if I want to, I will exist even long past you do. But I will stay in this realm, and I can be yours for eternity.” 

You pause, so that your voice does not waver. 

“You are allowed to love me.”

…

The early morning remains cold, but the birds begin to chirp their good mornings, and Zhongli speaks your name with greater tenderness than he ever has, as he makes love to you once more.