#his face is sincerely kind of terrifying

[contac]

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

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Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

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As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

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After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

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Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

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He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

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Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[seeliemansi]

You Took Him Home (Mr. Crawling x Reader)

Synopsis: There is no ghost in the abandoned rumored haunted building your friends dared for you to visit. No, not anymore. Because you took it- you took him home. And you are not sure how to ask him to go back home. (He is just so sweet, cute, and adorable)

a/n: would love and appreciate your feedbacks, reblogs and likes! let's keep the homicipher community alive! 🫶🏼 btw, this is just a test draft

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“You're firing me?” You asked, terrified.

“No….no…no! You misunderstood.” Principal Sarah shook her head in disagreement. Hands waving in front. “We just think..” She paused. “That you needed more rest. We love to have you here. The kids love you. The parents trust you. It's just-”

You got lost on what the principal was saying as your attention was caught by the crawling man, giggling at the ABCD cards posted on the wall. He looked at you, and happily pointed at the word “A” with an illustration of an apple. Apple, the word he learned today. He chirply said apple and giggled when you dare to steal a nod in his direction, praising him, so he won't bother your important talk.

However, your face contorted in concern as he continued crawling around the floor and looking for things he wasn't familiar with.

“Uhm…are you listening?” Your eyes snapped back to the principal, who was now looking behind her, frowning, as she tried to look at whatever it was behind her that made your brows furrowed with concern.

“Ah! Yes, yes. I will happily take the break. I’ve- The accident was just so traumatizing that sometimes my mind tends to wander. I know my doctor already said that I can continue working but I am grateful that you will allow me to have more breaks. As long…as you know you are not firing me.” You try to bring her attention back to you. Biting your cheeks at the inside as you try to focus on your problem at hand. And ignore the sound he is making as he crawls around.

“As I said before, we are not firing you. The substitute teachers will take over your class while you are gone. And we hope that it will help with your full recovery. You are a good teacher. I admit that I don't want to lose you. I wish you well.” She said, eyes sincere and warm hands squeezed your shoulder with reassurance. You can only give her a genuine smile, and was just grateful for her trust.

Because sincerely, you are not sure how you are going back to normal after a one week break when you know damn well that Mr. Crawling will be in your home forever.

Because….uhmm…well….you invited him in.

You cannot even blame yourself as to why.

How could you not?!

He saved you from the falling debris, when a part of the abandoned building collapsed. He took the fall and even bled, you were not sure how ghosts bleed, when they are already dead but he did, and hugged you tightly to protect you.

He even gave you head pats to calm you down when you panicked, thinking you are not going to be back home anymore. You will lose your hard earned career, your hardwork, your dreams.

And even follows you around as you look for the exit, being helpful and cheerful to keep your mind off the panic that sets in when it's just you and the silence.

No soul exchange, no money involved, he was just happy he was able to help you.

So when you finally found the way out, you thanked him and left. Thinking that was it, grateful for his kindness.

But one day, before you started teaching again, you went back and found him at the same spot, at the same position before you left him, waiting for you to come back. It was a week after that but he waited patiently for you. The way you watch his crestfallen face lights up when he sees you. His giggle; loud and cheerful. His smile is so wide, warm, familiar, and welcoming.

So how could you not!?

So how could you just leave him behind?

Well, maybe that one week is just you training yourself how you get used to his presence. And not act like a crazy person after a very traumatizing accident.

Ah…yes.. that's that.

You can do it.

You nodded as you lie to yourself and squat down and stared at the item Mr. Crawling was pointing at, and asking for you to share what it was.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Jegulus - trans!Regulus - fits in with my longfic Clandestine but can be read alone - TW: slight dysphoria but a happy ending

"Oh."

The soft voice makes Regulus turn from his spot in his dorm room before really thinking about it. If he had thought about it, he surely would have stayed where he was, turned away.

But there he is. James Potter is standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, staring at him with a confused look on his face.

"James?" Regulus asks, but as he does, his heart is hammering in his chest, his stomach immediately twisting and turning, making a wild effort to expel his lunch.

And no, it's not because he doesn't want to see James. Of course not. It's because he thought he was alone. So he hadn't put on his binder yet.

"I- I'm sorry," his boyfriend murmurs, looking at a loss for words. "Barty let me in. I thought you were in Arithmancy, I wanted to leave these for you as a surprise. You know, as a three month anniversary gift..."

And James speaks in such a way that Regulus knows he's being sincere. He's been so kind and respectful about every aspect of their relationship that he knows James would never dare walk into any room without knocking. He cares, deeply and completely, about making him comfortable.

But now, it's too late. Regulus can't think, the dysphoria overtaking his senses, goosebumps forming on the back of his neck and heat moving to his cheeks as he processes that James is here. And even in his lightweight white t-shirt, he might as well be shirtless.

"I- I'm not-" he stammers, blinking and gesturing to his chest, unsure what to say. "I haven't put on my binder yet."

"Alright," James nods, and if he could tell, he doesn't let on at all. He simply speaks like he's talking to a very nervous animal. "Reg, baby...I want to remind you that I love you. No matter what. I'm not judging you, and my only goal right now is to wish my amazing boyfriend a happy anniversary. So I want you to tell me what you need, okay? Do you need me to step out for a moment? Or do you want me to stay?"

Blinking, Regulus considers for a brief moment. A large, terrified part of him wants to run and hide. To tell James to wait outside while he cries into his pillow before putting on his binder. An ugly, more instinctive part of him wants to yell and push James away.

But that extra moment allows him to breathe and think better of it. To remind himself that this is James and he is safe, and nobody is judging him now.

"Hug me," he murmurs, not waiting for James's response before he steps forward and folds into James's waiting arms.

"Happy Anniversary, love," James murmurs into his ear, pressing a kiss to his head and holding him close.

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part4

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning abortion, daddy issues, mentioning violence, kind of depression

previous - next

You missed feeling relaxed. You missed that brief period without all the stress packed into these last two weeks. Actually, it wasn’t just these two weeks. Ever since you noticed the symptoms, a constant worry had settled inside you.

What would Rafe say, what would your family say, how would they react—would they even want this?

Now, at least you knew what they felt. You knew they didn’t want this, that they were trying to convince you to end it. But the worry hadn’t gone away, not for a second. It clung to you like it knew your weakest spot, pressing down on it relentlessly.

Looking at the big picture, you didn’t really have anything left to fear. The people who needed to know had found out. Even though their reactions were awful, now you knew, and you’d have to carry on knowing it.

And that was what truly scared you.

You were starting to feel anxious about the future. Bringing a child into the world without anyone by your side would be incredibly tough, and you were sure of that. You were basically broke, with no support from your family.

Entering a dark, unknown path without any light ahead was terrifying.

This wasn’t how you wanted things to turn out.

“You’re quiet.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you were walking with your gaze on the ground. If he hadn’t spoken, you might not even have been aware of the state you were in. At the sound of his voice, you lifted your head and looked at his face. He was smiling at you, just like always.

His smile didn’t seem very sincere—it was almost infuriating. And you could tell he was doing it on purpose. He seemed to enjoy messing with you, and you hated it. The way he talked to you, as if you were some alien who just didn’t get it, made your blood boil. It was like he was observing you the way someone would watch a caged animal.

When it became clear you weren’t going to answer, JJ chuckled and turned his gaze forward. The sky was nearly dark, and the air was beginning to chill.

To be fair, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you weren’t exactly on a pleasant path. The evening was closing in, and the road had grown desolate. But he knew this walk would be worth it.

You were behind him, but JJ made a point of staying close to you. Not because he wanted to be near you, really—he just wanted to make sure you were ready for anything. Simply put, though he’d never admit it, he didn’t want you to miss out on this. He’d never say it, but these weren’t the safest paths to be on.

Hearing you sigh in frustration behind him, JJ rolled his eyes. Your impatience was practically a signature trait, especially for a Kook like you. “Not a fan of hiking, huh?” JJ’s teasing was obvious, and you disliked his tone. Just a bit.

“This isn’t hiking,” you muttered, trying to scrape mud off your shoe. You could swear you were in the most godforsaken corner of the world. "This—this feels more like a death march. Tell me there’s something good at the end of this, or else—”

JJ couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, he thought your silent moments were his favorites, but hearing you complain actually amused him in its own way. Whatever happened, you’d keep following him like a little lost puppy. He cut you off before you could go on. “We’re almost there.”

When your complaints subsided, he found himself smiling involuntarily. He was absolutely certain you’d hate every bit of this, but for now, you were stuck here with him. You didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Sure, he did—he could go to John B’s place, and he would eventually.

It just didn’t sit right with him to leave you on your own. He hadn’t been raised with high standards, but—he was still the kind of guy who wouldn’t leave a girl alone at night.

And since he definitely wasn’t taking you to John B’s house—he was sure you’d say no—the only option left was his own style of a safe, quiet spot. At least you wouldn’t stand out around the Pogues, and you’d get some peace and quiet.

To say he was doing it entirely for you would’ve been a big lie. He needed some time, too. He wasn’t ready to show up at John B’s place, explain everything, and face them in this state. JJ didn’t want to feel their silent pity, even if they didn’t say it out loud.

You wouldn’t ask, he was sure of that—or at least he hoped. And even if you did, it wouldn’t stick in your memory for long. To you, JJ was just some random person, and to him, you were the same. Your lives didn’t really intersect in any meaningful way.

JJ pushed some branches and shrubs aside to clear a path for you, and you followed close behind. This hike was becoming increasingly strange from your perspective.

As the sky darkened and you nearly found yourself in the forest, JJ took out his phone and turned on its flashlight. You rummaged through your pockets, intending to do the same, when you remembered storming out of the house in such a hurry. Honestly, you were lucky you’d even put on shoes because you’d left everything—literally everything—behind. Wallet, phone, cash, hair tie, body spray, everything was still at home. You were truly penniless.

JJ jumped down from a ledge and extended his hand to you. The realization that you’d left everything behind had hit you hard, but you pushed aside the frustration and focused on the path.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and tested the ground with your foot. It was pure mud. “Come on.” JJ extended his hand a bit further. You hesitated, but something in you trusted he’d catch you. Even though JJ was unreliable in general, you believed he wouldn’t let you fall. Just as you trusted he’d keep your pregnancy a secret.

He could be obnoxious, foolish, and infuriating—but he wasn’t a bad person.

As soon as you jumped down and took his hand, JJ quickly leaned forward and caught you by the back to keep you steady. Your foot slipped on the mud, but his grip kept you safe from harm.

“You okay?” he asked. Once he was sure you were steady, he slowly let go of your back and hand, bending down to pick up his backpack. You gave him a quick nod, and he looked at you, nodding back and gesturing at the trail.

Even though he’d held onto you and kept you from falling, you were still frustrated at the path he’d chosen. “I already hate this,” you said, and JJ immediately started laughing. The fact that your irritation amused him made you somehow even more annoyed.

You crossed your arms and took a deep breath, tempted to fire back a few words. You just wanted to get under his skin, to rile him up as much as he seemed to enjoy riling you. But it felt impossible. No matter what you said, he just found it funny, like he was looking for any chance to mess with you. Was it your tone, the way you phrased things, or were you just naturally the kind of person he could laugh at? You couldn’t tell, and it only irritated you more.

But then, as you looked over at him, you realized—it was none of those things.

He was genuinely laughing. His dimples appeared. There was no mocking glance, no condescending smirk. He was actually amused. It was like he found you funny, not in a mean way, just… funny.

Just two seconds after you looked at him, JJ turned back with a wide grin—nearly every tooth on display. “Told you you’d hate this,” he chuckled, his voice shaky from laughter, as if still savoring his victory.

He had indeed told you, and he’d meant it. He wasn’t saying it just to annoy you; he genuinely knew you wouldn’t like this. Not that it mattered much. You weren’t alone, after all.

The anger simmering within you slowly began to melt, and for a second, you even wanted to smile back at him. After a brief exchange of glances, you both looked away, but a faint smirk remained on his face.

When JJ sped up a little and moved ahead, you opted to stay behind him. He paused just enough with each branch he brushed aside to make sure you could follow, eventually taking a deep breath as he passed through. “Home sweet home,” he declared, as though this place were actually his.

By the time you both finally made it through the branches and bushes, you were covered in scratches. You swore you’d kill JJ. No blood, but plenty of pain. As he flashed his phone’s light around, you rubbed your sore arm and looked at the scene around you.

Wonderful.

An abandoned dock. Was this his idea of a “nice place”? You figured you had about 15 minutes before the bugs and snakes launched an all-out assault. “I’m not staying here.” you announced firmly, crossing your arms. JJ turned to you with a smile.

Did he ever stop smiling? He nodded as if he agreed, surprising you. You almost thought he was crazy. You’d followed a madman all the way out here. Great decision.

“Same.” he replied, that knowing tone in his voice. Before you could step back, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along, heading toward the edge of the dock. For a second—a single second—you thought he might push you into the river, but he didn’t.

It was too dark to make out everything around you, but as JJ's phone light lit up the surroundings, you saw it. Slowly, the scene became clear. Was that... a boat?

Did JJ get a boat?

Impossible.

“What are we doing right now?” you asked, pulling your wrist back as he crouched down to untie the boat. His phone light didn’t quite reach, so he handed it to you, gesturing for you to shine it on his hands. You did as he asked, though you watched him warily. What was he even doing?

He had to be nuts.

“Is this... your boat?” you asked, as he stood and stretched out a hand to help you aboard. JJ shook his head, still grinning.

Wait a minute... the boat wasn’t JJ’s. It wasn’t yours either. So—

“Are you stealing this boat?!” you blurted out, unable to hide the horror in your voice. JJ rolled his eyes, extending his hand again as he shook his head. He thought you were being dramatic. This wasn’t stealing.

“We’re not stealing it. We—remember? We’re in this together,” he said, his tone playful. You immediately shook your head, taking a step back, but JJ quickly placed a foot on the dock to steady the boat and grabbed your hand before you could retreat any further. “We’re absolutely not in this together. You dragged me out here on some unknown path, and now you’re stealing a boat—”

JJ couldn’t take your ranting anymore. Without a second thought, he tightened his grip and pulled you onto the boat. The world was pitch black out here, and even if you tried to turn back, you’d get lost. He just hoped you wouldn’t be foolish enough to attempt it.

Once you were on board, JJ stood in front of you, so close that you were nearly nose to nose. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you by the back, speaking before you could protest further.

“We’re not stealing. We. Got it? We’re just borrowing it, and we’ll bring it back by morning. And if anyone asks, there’s only one thing you need to remember,” he said, his tone casual, yet with a hint of amusement.

As you stared at him, you noticed how close he really was. Your hand rested on his shoulder, and one of his hands was on your arm, the other somewhere between your back and waist. Silently, you waited, wondering what he’d say next. JJ smirked, clearly enjoying your curiosity.

“Deny, deny, deny... You tripped, fell into the boat, and it just happened to drift off on its own. And unfortunately—” he continued, pulling his hands back from you as he spoke. You were so focused on him that you barely noticed his movements. Fixated, you watched him start up the boat as though he’d done it a hundred times.

“We’re just two clueless kids who don’t know how to steer, and the boat just started moving,” he said, a grin still on his face. He turned to make sure you had something to hold onto before he started the engine.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed silent, just that you hadn’t drifted too far. Sitting beside him, you enjoyed the cool breeze—until it started to chill you to the bone.

You didn’t know where you eventually stopped, but JJ clearly did. You followed his lead, keeping quiet.

Now, both of you were lying quietly at the back of the boat. JJ’s phone lay face down, its flashlight casting a soft glow. You both seemed to enjoy the silence.

You were an idiot. You hadn’t planned anything for tonight, and now, like a fool, you hadn’t even brought anything warm. A T-shirt and red shorts, no jacket. You started to feel the night chill, hoping you wouldn’t catch a cold. You didn’t have the energy for that right now.

JJ noticed. He knew if he handed you one of the blankets from under the seats, you’d wrinkle your nose at it, just like he would. So, instead, he took out his sweatshirt from his bag, took a deep breath, and handed it to you.

He waited for you to refuse, to say you didn’t need it, but you surprised him. You looked at the sweatshirt for a moment, then took it from him without a word, slipping it on quickly.

The slight movement caused JJ’s phone to slide, leaving his face illuminated by the flashlight. His hair, tousled by the wind, fell slightly to one side.

Your gaze lingered on his eyes, but something distracted you—a bruise you hadn’t noticed before. Probably hidden by his hair until now.

JJ realized you’d noticed. Instinctively, he ran a hand through his hair, rearranging it to cover the bruise. He knew exactly what he was doing, turning his head slightly.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was fresh. The bruises you’d seen two weeks ago had already faded. This one was definitely new.

JJ saw you looking. He shifted uncomfortably, yet he knew you were still watching him out of the corner of your eye. “What?” he asked with a smile, though it was different from the smiles you’d seen earlier. It just sat there, plastered on his face, almost lifeless. “Did you like what you saw?”

He expected you to look away, maybe even sigh in annoyance or give him a frustrated glare. But you didn’t. You just looked at him, knowing full well that something was wrong. And he knew you knew it, too.

“What happened?” you asked quietly. The words left your mouth almost as light as a feather. But JJ, listening intently, caught every word.

His smile turned bitter as he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to tell you, but things might change, given that you already knew his most guarded secret.

You were each other’s opposite. You were a Kook; you didn’t deal with Pogues. JJ was a Pogue; he didn’t associate with Kooks. You’d barely spoken to anyone from that crowd. Not that you didn’t want to—it just hadn’t interested you.

And yet, here you were with JJ. You weren’t trapped; you’d chosen to follow him willingly. He’d led you to this deserted, uncomfortable place, but it was relaxing. Sure, you’d hated it at first, but now you were starting to like it here.

This was one of those moments you’d never have predicted, not even if someone had told you about it hours earlier. What could you possibly want with a Pogue?

“Did I ever ask you about how that fight went?” JJ’s tone was cold, harsher than he intended. He wasn’t looking to bite back. He didn’t even know why he was saying it, only that he regretted it when he saw your expression fall.

You’d both come out here to get some peace—not to ask questions.

But instead, you withdrew, mumbling a soft, dry, “Sorry.” You drew your legs up, crossing your arms to brace against the chill. There was nothing to see in the darkness around you. Nothing but darkness itself.

JJ hadn’t expected this reaction. For a moment, he’d forgotten how rough your day had been. He’d anticipated a biting remark, even a small argument. But you remained silent, as if you hadn’t asked at all.

Maybe, JJ thought. Maybe you weren’t as stuck-up and unbreakable as he’d thought.

He hadn’t intended to add to your sadness. It was just that he felt his space being invaded. But he already regretted not biting his tongue. He could’ve said nothing at all, but now, it was too late.

You felt like you were meddling, like you were sticking your nose into someone else’s business. And maybe you were. But today, without knowing what had happened, he had helped you. There was no need to ask him anything; whether he chose to open up or not was up to him. Pressuring him for an answer had just happened in a brief, unintended moment.

JJ straightened up and moved his phone's flashlight aside, taking a deep breath. "My dad," he muttered. He hadn't planned on telling you. He hadn't even shared this with his friends. But then again, you'd also told him things no one else knew about you.

JJ trusted that you wouldn’t tell anyone. After all, who cares about someone else's daddy issues?

Your eyes turned back to JJ as he spoke. Feeling your gaze, he nervously ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t intend to tell you everything—just the basics. It was hard for him to explain.

You listened intently, and after his response, you thought he might stay silent for the rest of the night. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stayed completely closed off. But barely a minute later, he began speaking again.

On a good day, you might have jokingly called him bipolar. But neither of you was having a good day.

"Long story short, he has a drinking problem. We don’t get along too well," JJ continued, struggling to articulate his thoughts. Besides his friends, he’d never opened up to anyone. His friends were his family, his only family.

JJ shifted slightly, watching as you leaned in a bit closer. You stood facing each other, and he avoided looking directly at you, worried that he might see pity or sympathy in your expression. If he saw even a trace of it, he thought he might just jump off the boat and into the river.

But when he looked up and met your gaze, he found none of that. You were simply looking at him with understanding. Your eyebrows weren’t raised, and there was no pity in your eyes—just empathy.

Nobody deserves to have terrible parents, no matter where they come from. It just wasn’t fair.

"Sometimes… things like this happen. But I'm used to it, Princess. No need to feel sorry for me. I’m still as handsome as ever." He extended his leg to nudge your own, a grin appearing on his face. It would’ve taken a fool not to see that his smile was a mask. He was trying to hide his pain behind a playful facade.

You decided not to call him out. Smiling in the same way, you pushed your legs away and gently nudged his back.

It felt like an unspoken promise had passed between you. You wouldn’t mention this to anyone. It seemed important to him. Even if he thought no one would care, you knew it mattered.

"Yeah," you teased, recognizing he was trying to change the subject. "I’m sure Pogue girls will be lining up for you either way." He threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple prominent as he tilted his head off the side of the boat.

As you laughed with him, you felt, for maybe the first time today, a craving for something normal. It felt good to share a moment with someone who wouldn’t judge you. The same was true for JJ. You both exchanged secrets and now carried each other’s burdens. If one of you fell, so would the other.

But you couldn't help but wonder. Had his father caused the scars you saw when you first met, or had he really been in a fight? You weren’t bold enough to ask. Respecting the boundary he’d set, you didn’t make any comments.

"Actually, you’re funny," JJ remarked with a grin. Of course, you were funny—you just didn’t show it to people who didn’t matter. Why would you?

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, and JJ continued smiling. He’d always thought you were serious, not because he was always thinking about you, but because he’d never seen this side of you.

But now he knew better.

While JJ watched you, you didn’t look back. You hadn’t even noticed him observing you. With your arms crossed, you took deep breaths, savoring the fresh air, trying to unwind, and, in this moment, you finally relaxed.

Despite JJ’s presence, you felt detached from all the day’s stress. If you could, you would erase today from your mind entirely. But you couldn’t, and you felt deeply exhausted. As you thought of tomorrow, you couldn’t help but wonder. Soon, you’d leave JJ, the boat, and this river behind. Where would you go? You had nowhere to go except home, and you didn’t know if they’d continue being mad at you. A sigh escaped you, and you felt a nudge on your leg.

JJ was looking at you intently, with a slight grin as if he knew something you didn’t. "Stay in the moment," he said as if reading your mind. He tilted his head back, looking around and taking a deep breath. "We’re in a place no one can find us. Whatever it is you’re worried about—deal with it tomorrow. Let them wonder what you’re up to. Why should you be the one feeling bad?"

In a million years, you wouldn’t have thought you’d take advice from him. But what you couldn’t believe even more was that you actually wanted to follow it. He was right, and you wanted to hold onto his words.

He was right.

Let them think whatever they wanted. You were going to be fine. You’d figure things out. You just needed a little time—not much.

You and the baby.

The thought made you smile.

You nodded, glancing at JJ. Even an idiot could say something wise once in a while. Like a broken clock being right twice a day.

"I’ll stay in the moment," you said, agreeing with him. Your smile grew, and it was as if JJ had been waiting for this. He exhaled and clapped his hands. "Finally!" he shouted, startling you as he moved closer.

In that moment, a realization hit you: JJ Maybank made you feel better. He’d lifted the sorrow from your body, just with his words—the words you needed to hear.

Not Rafe, not your family. You didn’t want to remember their words. JJ’s words were enough.

JJ broke eye contact, still smiling, and picked up his phone. “Shit…” he muttered. You wanted to ask what was wrong, curious, so you leaned forward, realizing his phone battery was running low.

“Your phone—” JJ began but stopped, remembering you looked like a runaway with no phone on you. Of course, you’d left it at home. “Oh, great,” he mumbled to himself.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" he asked. You shook your head in response, even though, well… you might’ve been a bit scared. But you were on a boat with someone, so it didn’t really bother you.

JJ ruffled his hair and looked at you. "If we’re going to sit in the dark, I need a verbal answer. I can’t see you shaking your head.”

Just when you thought you’d found a way to get along with him, he managed to ruin it. He was driving you insane.

“Yes! Are you happy now?” JJ rolled his eyes and, adjusting his position, turned off the flashlight.

Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, but you could feel him sitting beside you, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. “More than happy,” he replied. You turned your head the other way, not wanting to look in his direction, even if you couldn’t see him. You sensed he was smiling from the tone of his voice. He enjoyed this—teasing you.

Even if he couldn’t see it, he knew he was getting under your skin, and it pleased him. Although he could’ve found other ways to connect with you, this playful sparring felt right to him. Besides, your reactions amused him.

"Pouting, are we?" JJ teased. He liked the quiet and the dark. Even if he couldn’t see you, he still felt your presence, your shoulder barely brushing against his.

“Not at all,” you replied, making JJ chuckle. He couldn’t help but enjoy every minute he spent with you. Your way of responding to him was entertaining, but deep down, he knew—you enjoyed this back-and-forth too.

You didn’t like the darkness. You weren’t scared, but you didn’t love it. JJ, right now, was your distraction. You’d been watching him or the boat to keep your mind off things, but since the flashlight had turned off, the heaviness inside you began creeping back. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed, and all you could think about was the day’s events.

Absentmindedly, your hand drifted to your stomach, as if feeling it might help you make the right choice. But the feeling you’d expected didn’t come. You felt nothing at all.

What am I gonna do?

Fears were starting to creep in. You didn't know if they'd be there for you if you went through with this, but you hoped you could overcome it. You were strong, ambitious, and capable of handling things on your own. If, of course, you wanted to. But did you even want it? Were you ready to bring a child into this world at twenty?

"Listen to yourself," JJ’s voice startled you. You turned to him, unsure of what he meant, and a small murmur slipped from his lips. Was he reading your mind?

"You asked what you’re going to do. Listen to yourself. Your body, your choice." JJ’s voice was close. You had turned to his side and didn’t expect to be this near. His breath was almost brushing your face.

"Rafe doesn’t want it," you said without thinking. Again. Yet you couldn't help but see JJ as a sort of mentor. He wasn’t on anyone’s side. He was an independent observer. "What would you do? If you were pregnant?"

At that, JJ’s laughter echoed through the woods. It was so loud that it made you jump a little, and you sensed him holding his stomach—not for the same reason, of course, but it looked like he was almost cringing. Not exactly an appropriate question, but—he needed to understand. Without meaning to, despite the difficult situation, you smiled. Laugh really was infectious.

"First off," he began, still chuckling, "Who the hell is Rafe to ask me to get an abortion? Second, fuck his opinions. He can shove it right back where it came from. And third—and this is the last point—as long as I want it, no one can make me do anything I don’t want to do." You didn’t usually like swearing, but coming from him, it was funny. You hadn't expected those answers, but then again, you’d thrown him a question out of the blue. It was fair.

"Besides, sorry, beauty, but I can’t get pregnant." You couldn’t help thinking how clueless some guys were sometimes. You’d meant what would he do if he were in your shoes. Of course, you knew he couldn’t get pregnant. You weren’t that dumb.

But JJ wasn’t dumb either. He just liked to mess with you.

No one could tell you what to do. You were the one carrying this baby. Abortion was your choice, and so was giving birth. You’d decide. Tonight, you’d know what you wanted. You might stumble at first, you might be afraid, but you’d make your choice.

It had been a long day. As the beginning of a headache began to make itself known, you leaned into the touch of JJ’s shoulder. Your lips parted, but only air came out instead of words.

You appreciated his words. Though you were two completely different people, from opposite sides, he’d supported you. He’d brought you back to yourself. Neither of you would call this helping, but it was. JJ had been there for you when no one else was.

So, without thinking, you said, "Thank you." And you meant it. You didn’t mutter it, nor did you look away. If there’d been light between you, you’d have looked right into his eyes.

JJ wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t even know what to say, but he took a deep breath. When you leaned into him, he leaned back. Now, your shoulders were fully touching. He didn’t know if he’d do this with the lights on, but the lights were off, and there was no need.

The unknown, dark path was terrifying. But it would pass. It would light up eventually—maybe with an object, maybe with a person, or perhaps even with a baby…

You couldn’t enjoy life by standing around, waiting in fear. You couldn’t let your paranoia stand in the way of living. This was your life, and you were the one in control. Your fears and anxieties were temporary; they’d go away, and in the end, you’d be left with yourself. This was your life. You had a life to live. Stay in the moment.

JJ took a deep breath. You both fell silent. There wasn’t much left to say. "Of course," he almost whispered, but you heard it completely in the stillness and quiet between you.

As your eyes slowly closed, you took deep breaths. The only scent you caught was salt and the sea.

You lay together until dawn, sprawled out in place. JJ would occasionally wake up and just lie there, only to fall back asleep, but you never stirred. It was as if you were lying on a queen’s bed.

When the sun’s rays started to creep into your eyes, JJ was the first to wake up. He moved to put the boat back in place. When he accidentally woke you, he muttered a small apology. You’d have woken up to any engine sound anyway, but he hadn’t meant to wake you. The two of you moved to the captain’s side as you tried to wake up and gather yourself. You didn’t chat much. JJ took you back to the old pier and helped you out of the boat.

After making sure there was nothing left behind, you took the water he offered without hesitation.

You muttered a few complaints about possibly getting bitten by bugs again, which JJ found amusing. A few cars passed by as you walked, and together you headed back to the beach where you’d been yesterday.

As you reached the entrance, JJ’s eyes wandered to the sea. You wondered if you should just leave him. You didn’t know what to do. To avoid making the situation more awkward, you looked away and gazed around. "Nice weather," he said, still looking around, but the ocean was his main focus.

"I have a change of clothes. Do you want to swim?" Your eyes shifted to the ocean he mentioned, your mouth opening and closing. If he wanted to see you go swimming in your underwear, he was in for a surprise. But you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he meant clothes.

Fuck it.

"Let’s go." You left him behind as you walked toward the ocean. Without hesitation, you took off your shoes and socks as JJ, trailing behind, looked at you in awe. "Come on!" you shouted. A smile played on your lips. He smiled back, then quickly followed, dropping his bag near where your shoes were and tossing his shirt on the ground. He already had swim shorts on. You didn’t.

You took off your red shorts, tossed them with the other clothes, and walked toward the water. You couldn’t go in naked, but a T-shirt would work. JJ seemed just as eager.

The coldness of the water made you both shiver the moment you stepped in. It felt like something you had to do. "If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you," you said as you waded in deeper. JJ laughed, looking at you as you both continued shivering.

"We know a lot about each other. Isn’t that sweet…” Then he shrieked when you splashed water at him. Even though you were soaked, you hadn’t yet adjusted to the water. As you splashed him back, he scrunched up his face at the feel of water on his bare skin and tried to back away.

"No! No!" JJ yelled, but you didn’t stop. As you kept drenching him, he finally dipped himself underwater, unable to handle your relentless game. Smiling mischievously, you looked around to see where he’d resurface. He was nowhere to be seen.

Then he grabbed you by the legs and pulled you down, cutting off your scream as you went under.

That mother fucker.

He’d outplayed you.

As soon as you emerged, you pushed your hair back and looked around. JJ was already in front of you, catching his breath and fixing his hair, smiling. "Didn’t like that, did you?" he asked, moving toward you, still smiling, showing his dimples. Just as you raised your hands to splash him again, he caught your wrists and pulled you close.

"I didn’t like it either."

Then, he splashed you in the face and bolted away. You didn’t feel like yourself, and JJ didn’t seem like JJ. There were no names, no titles, no telling who was from where—you just had fun. You didn’t even notice, but you felt like you had nothing to worry about anymore. You lived in the moment.

You weren’t sure what had changed within you, but it felt like everything had shifted. You didn’t know how long you’d been in the water until a few people appeared in the distance, and as the area grew busier, you and JJ left the water. He gave you another shirt. You put on your own shorts and sweatshirt. He walked with you until you got to your path home and turned to you as you were about to part.

"Not very Kook-like, but I’m sure you didn’t hate it as much as you say." No, it wasn’t Kook-like. You were sure of that. And yes, you might have hated it just a little. But you didn’t tell him that. You smiled, feeling the chill on your face from your wet hair.

After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and said, “Take care.”

He was right. What mattered was you—your choices, your life.

Nodding to acknowledge him, you started walking toward home while JJ headed off toward John B’s place. Would you have had as much fun alone? Probably not, but here you were, laughing and living a bit more freely thanks to someone you’d never expected.

As you walked through your front gate, you were startled by the people waiting outside the door: your dad, your mom, and the sheriff. There was a whole lineup of officers, as if you’d been kidnapped or something. When your eyes met your mother’s, you could see her tears and the redness from crying, which made your heart twist painfully. She rushed over and wrapped her arms around you, her hands softly rubbing your back.

You didn’t want to listen to anyone. Without saying a word to either your mom or dad, you headed straight to your room. There on your bed was your phone, and you saw that you had a few unread messages—from your mom and dad, of course. They must have stopped messaging once they realized you’d left your phone behind. Even Rafe had sent you a few texts, as well as a couple of your friends.

But you didn’t care about what Rafe had to say. It was more of the same—messages about “thinking of your best interests” and a whole lot of other nonsense. He could go straight to hell for all you cared. It was you against the world. Even if you were alone, you could handle this. You were strong, and you’d get through everything just fine. You didn’t need anyone’s support; just your own belief in yourself.

So, fuck him.

You

Keeping the baby.

seen.

[verinarin]

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞

angst with comfort | he’s always on the winning side of things, but for you he’s willing to lose

Aventurine never was fond of being alone, never since he met you.

Ever since you have graced his life with your warmth he can’t go back, he hated the idea of a past, present, and future without your warmth beside him. This selfish want of his transpires the most underneath the sheets, it goes far beyond his sexual need nor his primal lust.

No, this need of his is far more pure.

Sincere even, that’s saying a lot since he was never known to be sincere.

Yet he is, for you.

Only you.

He found it easier to sleep against your chest, listening to your calm heartbeat lulls him to slumber far more successfully than any other methods he used in the past. He often described your whole body as his teddy bear, the sentiment suits you perfectly since he had always wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as his head rested upon your chest.

So warm, so soft, so comforting.

It fills his barren heart with emotions he has always yearned for, love and adoration.

A sense of being wanted, of being loved.

He has survived by himself for years by his cunning wit and gambling his life away, yet he had stumbled upon uncharted territories with you. The feeling of comfort and security you had given him has him utterly petrified.

The thought of baring his true naked self to you terrifies him, he was never a good person, he was far from it.

You know that. You know that very well and yet here you are with fingers brushing through his blond hair, the comfort that you gave also comes with a price.

And for the first time, he’s scared to lose it, to lose you.

Unbeknownst to him, a tear has escaped from his eye. He hates it. He hates how scared he is of losing you, “Rine, are you alright ?” your soft comforting voice lingered in his ear.

“Ah I’m fine !, what makes you ask that ?,” he smiled as he tilted his head upwards, your expression paints a clear picture of worry. He does not want that.

“You’re crying,” the softness of your voice, the kindness it holds. It could render him into a crying mess, he hates it.

He hates being vulnerable, yet it’s you.

Would you leave him for this?

“Am I now ?,” he chuckled, a smirk plastered on his face. An attempt to try to mask his feelings away has never worked on you.

Yet he tries anyway.

“You are,” your hand cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently wiped away tears drops falling from his face.

He smiled, genuinely smiled as you wiped away the tears that formed from his heart. His soul.

“Perhaps I am,” he bitterly replied.

“I’m here, always here and I hope you know that,” you replied calmly, his hands reaching forward to caress your cheek, holding it gently like a precious stone.

“I’m terrified,” he muttered, his thumb resting upon your lower lip as he spoke.

“Of what ?,” you asked, you could feel his thumb tracing your lips as you spoke.

“Losing you,” he replied shortly, his lips forming a gentle smile as he watched you chuckle upon hearing his answer.

“A gambler, terrified to lose. That’s new,” you smiled, your fingers brushed his hair back to see his face, tired yet comforted.

“I don’t gamble on our relationship, feel free to use me or stab me in the back if that’s what you want,” he leaned forward, closing the gap between your face and his.

“But for you, I’m not afraid to be on the losing side,” he muttered against your lips, before pressing his own against yours to seal the deal.

[shy-writer-999]

Surrender: Ace cries at night and you comfort him

A/N: This is angst that turns into lovey-dovey stuff. SFW. CW for self-loathing (on Ace's side). ~1,250 words. (´ω｀*)

Surrender: Ace cries at night while you comfort him

Sometimes Ace engages with the deep pit of loneliness and self-loathing that festers inside of him. He tries to avoid it as much as he can, but that part of him can only be ignored for so long until it demands to be heard. In the visceral moments of reconciliation with that neglected part of himself, Ace has to surrender. He has to allow himself to feel and accept the open wounds still gaping inside of him—the wounds in his heart, in his core, in that pit of despair and unimaginable solitude.

There are certain memories of hurt and trauma in your past that you can never forget. Even if these moments are from decades ago, they can sting and haunt you just the same. They flash into the mind, unprompted, intrusive, glaring, and horrible. On a good day, those memories fly under the radar for Ace. They don’t get in the way of how intensely and relentlessly he loves people, nor do they obstruct the happiness he feels in the small moments of joy that every day brings.

When the memories finally surface, when they refuse to go away, not only does Ace have to surrender, but more often than not, he breaks. These days, it’s rare. To be clear, Ace is not broken; the sheer weight of the hurt that he quietly suffers can just get to him. It’s like a watershed—the second that he has to surrender, his repressed emotions and memories detonate like a bomb in his heart. Surrendering to the pain, surrendering to that festering pit, sometimes looks like curling up in fetal position and sobbing for however long he needs; historically, it’s been anywhere from 10 minutes to a couple of hours. Other times that he breaks he is despondent all day—he shuts down, and though there are no tears, the pain is just as torturous.

Since you had started seeing Ace and regularly sharing a bed with him, you had yet to witness one of these moments of surrender. Ace was a force to be reckoned with. He was strong, formidable, talented, and terrifying, yet at the same time he was charming, polite, and astonishingly kind. You had a baseline understanding of what he’d been through in his life and who he was, so you understood that he held pain in his heart. But understanding that fact was different than witnessing that pain in real time.

When you woke up to Ace crying next to you, his back was turned away from you. You realized that he was sobbing as quietly as he could. You could hear the sound of his breath hitching in between the waves of anguish and tears. He was trying to hold as still as he could, be as quiet and as small as possible, so he wouldn’t wake you up. He preferred to suffer these moments of anguish alone—he didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. He shouldered too much, far more than any one person should or could deal with. As the shuddering sobs wracked his body, his heart and core twisted. The watershed of grief had started, and it wouldn’t stop until it all came out.

When you watch someone that you love sob like that, it breaks something in you, too.

For someone to be so vulnerable, so sincere, showing you a part of themselves that they keep locked away… it is nothing to take lightly. Having the privilege of being close to someone like this is precious. It is invaluable. To be trusted completely and without refrain, to be recognized for who you are and to recognize someone for who they are, completely, through thick and thin… this is what love is about.

You stirred and Ace held his breath, worried that he had disturbed your sleep with his break down. No matter how still or soundless he tried to be, the hot tears streaming from his eyes refused to stop.

You shifted, facing his back and scooting closer so you were spooning him. Ace tried to slow down his gasps for air to feign like he had been asleep.

Not only was he worried about being a burden, but he was worried that you would look at his pain and refuse to recognize it—that you would scorn him. As he tried (and failed) to self-regulate, he felt you lean forward to kiss the back of his head. You threw an arm over him, holding him, letting him know that he was cherished here. You nuzzled into his neck and felt his body alongside yours.

“I’m here, Ace. And you are safe.” You spoke gently into the back of his neck.

Upon hearing your recognition and reassurance, Ace fully yielded to the explosion of emotions assailing him—he let himself feel the hatred for himself and for others, let himself feel the suffocating loneliness of his solitude and isolation, let himself feel the desperate need to be loved and assured constantly. He surrendered.

Ace sobbed for a long time. The safety he discovered while you comforted him was beyond anything he knew. Your love radiated on the pit of sadness and despair, managing to lift Ace out of what felt like a molten, toxic, and boiling lake of self-hatred and sorrow.

While he cried, you kissed his neck, shoulder, and the back of his head softly. You held him. You asked for nothing from Ace. You didn’t come from a place of wanting to “fix” him or to figure out exactly what he was upset about—you were there because you profoundly, truly, ardently loved him. You were safe, you understood, you did not judge. He could grieve as much as he needed to and you would be there, always.

When his breath slowed and the tears stopped rolling down his cheeks, Ace felt calm, clear headed. He turned over to face you, getting so close that your foreheads were almost touching. His cheeks were soaked with tears, his eyes were red, and his hair was a mess. He took one of your hands tenderly and entwined his fingers with yours. He spoke three words, his voice hushed and hoarse.

“I love you.”

Ace kissed your forehead softly, his lips still wet from the paths forged by tears down his skin; he peppered the rest of your face with soft, damp kisses. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you or how significant and impactful your care was to him. He didn’t say anything because he knew that you were already aware. This moment didn’t need words.

You fell asleep nestled together, hands held. The love you felt for Ace and the love he felt for you was the same—it was a peaceful acceptance, an attunement, a harmony, and a burning flame.

After this night, anytime Ace felt like he was going under, like he was about to be swallowed by that excruciating weight on his shoulder, he knew that he could find solace in you. You were an anchor for him, as he was for you. You recognized all parts of him and loved each one; he told you about all of the mistakes he had made, the people he had wronged, the regretful and hurtful memories simmering, and you told him that every mistake he ever made led him here—you both agreed that you’d never have it any other way.

(◕︿◕✿) (>_<) ૮ ˙ ﻌ˙ ა

thank you so much for reading, i appreciate it so much!

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

-- Z

[felassan]

Some notes from today's new BioWare Blog post, which contained some new character insights and also gave some information on what is coming next and when:

Creative Performance Director Ashley Barlow helped to cast and direct over a thousand conversations in the game

Lucanis is bloodthirsty, calculated, and a workaholic. He was raised with high expectations and fears disappointing those he loves. To him, being an assassin is his only job and identity to be excellent at. He's constantly attuning himself to the kind of shifting terrain of every mission. There's a lot of love between him and Illario

As Zach is a comedian, he would easily find the humor in anything Lucanis was saying

Neve is a Shadow Dragons rebel who cares deeply about helping people and never leaves work half-done. Epler: " [she is] the working class hero trying to make her hometown better"

Emmrich is sincere, friendly, scholarly, sophisticated, eager to teach and learn, a well-meaning but oblivious academic, with a "hot nerdiness". He assumes everyone has an academic's curiosity so can be pedantic on select topics

The Mourn Watch are revered in Nevarra but odd at best and evil at worst outside of it

Nick: "I love the fact that the writers took Emmerich and explored the whole idea of death and the whole idea of necromancing by bringing kindness into it. I really responded to that and got into that and I know it sounds crazy, but it’s to not have this idea that death is vulgar or something to be terrified about, but something to actually engage with on so many levels. I just love the fact that the writers had the courage to do that in a game like this."

"Often Nick is just playing off of someone making a sound, and he takes it and internalizes it and gives it meaning and care, which is amazing to watch."

The world has changed a lot since DA:I

Harding has been leading teams through the wilderness while covering friends in battle

Harding loves her mom. She loves to write letters home and is always talking about her mother. She likes plants and raising plants. She has grown and is a veteran now, a trusted voice at the table

Footage of the full DA:TV @ SDCC companions panel should be available in a couple of weeks

Next month there will be a new roadmap, more looks at the game, and the reveal of the release date

[emphasis mine]

And this paragraph:

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard sees players embark on a perilous quest to face powerful Elven gods and stop the apocalyptic destruction they’re unleashing. You’ll step into the role of Rook, battling on the front lines alongside a deep and compelling cast of companions who together comprise The Veilguard, a group of heroes who have come together to stop the veil from breaking and bringing about the end of the world. Rook must become the unexpected leader who can rally and unite the group. Throughout the game, you can explore the detailed storylines of each companion, navigating love, loss, and complex choices that influence your relationships."

[source]

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 2

tw: explicit content. 5k+ words. yuta/reader. female!alpha!reader, alpha!yuta, reader has a knot but also a vag. very barely dubcon, masturbation, fingering. mostly lots of pining. also light curse!rika/reader, but no monsterfucking (yet. curse!rika would 1000% hit it tho)

listen... it's not very smutty but read the fic. just read the fic. you're a tsundere and yuta and his curse girlfriend are smitten with you. it's really cute i promise.

Prompt: An Alpha finds themselves exhibiting omega traits in front of a stronger alpha.

Female alphas were less common than male ones, but they were common enough for there to be stereotypes about them.

Scary girls. Big girls. Strong independent women who didn’t need no men, ate pretty omega boys for breakfast.

There was a certain type of alpha – exclusively male, sometimes beta men were like this too – that saw a kind of challenge to it.

These sorts of dudes were obsessed with ‘alpha pussy’, swore it was tighter and hotter than any omega hole ever could be.

Never mind that there were some omegas who couldn’t take large knots without training, and anyone who wasn’t an omega needed a lot of practice before trying to take any knot at all.

It wasn’t about realism with these assholes. It was some weird, self-fellating bullshit about having made another alpha their bitch, being the alpha to another alpha.

Asshole alphas, that’s a good way to put it. A bunch of fuckwads who thought only with their knots and their egos.

Each and every one of them thought they were god’s gift to creation because they were alphas, born special and better than everyone else, all that garbage.

Yuta isn’t an asshole, but he is, shockingly enough, an alpha.

He’s a nice boy – maybe the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.

Makes it all the funnier that you get paired up with him on missions so often; the scary alpha girl and the gentle alpha boy.

You’d doubt his identity, too, if you didn’t know better. But you can smell it on him all the same. Unmistakable. Alpha.

And he’s strong, really strong, probably stronger than you, though the thought rankles.

Special grade, you’d heard – mostly because of the cursed spirit that hangs out with him.

But it’s not the spirit you smell when you sneak a discreet whiff of the scarf he’d left on the bench this one time. It’s an alpha, through and through.

It’s not the spirit that darts into the field on missions before you can, places himself between you and danger without even thinking about it.

Carves destruction with a graceful, brutal blade and then turns back to you with a sheepish smile asking if you’re all right.

He’s so… gentle. Careful. You’re not even sure he can get angry.

The closest you’d ever seen him to it was when a curse popped up behind you on a mission, while he was occupied with a special grade of his own on the other side of the room.

You’d seen a barrier appear in an instant, which must have been his domain expansion, and only a few seconds later the curse he’d been fighting was gone and the curse that ambushed you was impaled on his blade.

Even with blood on his face, he’d smiled at you.

Eyes shut, voice warm with sincerity, but the air was filled with a tense note of danger, barely constrained threat… just not towards you.

Somehow, you want to see more.

-

Prodding at Yuta Okkotsu is no easy task.

He’s about the most mild-mannered person you’ve ever met, and half-terrified that someone mistreating him would get on the bad side of the cursed spirit who hangs around him.

But you’re determined, and there’s not a lot that can stop you when you put your mind to it.

Alphas had a personal bubble – just like everyone else – and when another alpha gets into it, it usually sets them off.

You start to invade Yuta’s space; first, in small ways.

Leaning in when you hand him a soda, sitting a touch too close on a bench, lingering whenever one of you pins the other during sparring.

There’s a flush on his darling face, a tightening of his features as you see him catch your scent and react to your proximity before he represses the reaction completely.

But soon enough, that doesn’t phase him at all.

You've gotta hand it to him. That's some real control.

Soon he’s touching your hand when you pass him things, you can lean against him while you sit next to each other and he doesn’t bat an eye.

Neither does that supposedly scary curse of his, for that matter.

You see her, once, on a mission. A curse sneaking up behind you (it wouldn’t have been able to hurt you anyways) and you catch her, the curse Yuta normally keeps so carefully hidden.

Massive. Magnificent.

It’s not something you’d normally say about a curse but Rika comes with a scent all her own, fresh and woodsy pine, pricking at your senses while a gaping maw of sharp teeth closes around some pitiful lesser creature.

The blood splatters, on the floor, on her ‘face’. She has no eyes you can see, but you feel her gaze on you anyways. Heavy in the midst of the silence, until Yuta’s panicked voice rings out, and she disappears completely.

Pine lingers in your senses.

That’s not what Yuta smells like, though.

He smells so little, actually, so heavily repressed that you’re not surprised most people think he’s a beta. But your senses are better than most, and you can detect it.

Faint. Warm. Almost… oily? Like olive oil, maybe, something humble and smooth, but unexpectedly decadent.

Like the scent of a lone burning candle in an old shrine, not quite dusty, but with a book-like scent that came with ink and paper.

It’s hard to detect. You need to get closer to really pin it down.

Yuta’s physical abilities are weak, after all, so it’s easy to make up excuses to spar with him. More and more, since you can tell he’s no longer uncomfortable with you in his space.

One fine winter morning, you catch the opportunity you want.

A tumble on the ground (he was always so afraid of Rika coming out, but she never did when he fought you), a little scuffle that leaves the adorable gentleman alpha flushed and flustered, and you manage to snag his scarf off of him.

In the pocket of his jacket you leave him something in return; a band not quite large enough to be a scarf that you’d used to tie your hair.

It should have plenty of your scent on it, enough to make him sniff the air once or twice before he figured out it was there.

The thought pleases you. Like you can tease him a little bit at some random moment throughout the day, without even being there.

It’s five whole days before Yuta returns it to you.

His face a touch bashful, even though he must have known full well that you’d slipped it into his coat yourself. Eyes downcast, as if afraid to meet yours; Yuta Okkotsu, the special-grade terror.

He doesn’t ever ask for the scarf back.

Not that you remember it. It’s just sitting on your desk. You barely think about it.

It just happens that it still has his scent on it, but that makes sense.

It would have been in contact with his scent glands every day, wrapped around his neck like a collar. Like a warm embrace.

You don’t touch it, so it still smells like him. Warm and welcoming.

He’s really not much of an alpha.

After you spar, he always compliments you, careful to note any potential weaknesses between bits of lavish praise. His shadowed, dark eyes sparkle a touch when he tells you, a warm smile on his lips.

Yuta’s always doing that, complimenting people. You’ve never known him to disparage anyone. Never a bad word for a single person you’d met.

So kind. What kind of alpha is this sweet?

Somewhere deep down, though, you know. A real leader, someone people trust and rely on, a friend who would cross oceans for you, move mountains, if it would help you out even a little.

Sweet boy, like cotton candy. Comforting like a warm candle on a cold winter night.

So bright even thought Yuta looks like the gloomiest boy alive. Sometimes when you think of him your tongue runs over your lips, like you’re hungry for more.

You push him further.

You don’t avoid him when you’re close to your rut. In fact you make a point to be near him, get into his space.

Sure, you’d invaded it plenty now, but with your scent oozing out of you, pheromones heavy in the air screaming breed, breed, breed, and you figure something in Yuta will crack.

You never stop to think about whether or not you want it to.

-

It’s on a nice, sunny day that it happens. The most embarrassing moment of your entire existence.

Pre-rut is a bit brutal but you’re down to tough it out. Sparring with Yuta always helps, anyways.

You’re especially snarky, too, like you get during your rut, eager to taunt, to get more out of him.

“C’mon Yuta, that’s not all you’ve got, right? Ask your curse girlfriend for help, I’ll bet she knows how to lay it out.” Adrenaline fuels your heated banter as you watch Yuta pointedly avert his gaze, “You’re flinching and I’m barely hitting you.”

“I can do it,” He almost grumbles, but you think you see a shadow behind him, or maybe you just imagine it, lurking and eager to jump out, “And she woul- Rika is strong.”

The hormones are bad, though. Getting your body heavy with sweat and panting, moving around, lashing out at him, striking, grappling…

“That’s more like it!”

“You can take this much? Then - I’ll do even more!”

Who the fuck are you kidding. It’s the most fun you’ve had in weeks.

Yuta’s strong, stronger than almost anyone you know, he’s right in front of you, so close you can smell you can touch you get your hands on him and he on you and you’re rolling, rolling through the grass –

Yuta pins you, heavy breaths breezing over you, carrying the warm rich smell of him in your senses.

Sweat dripping down his forehead, mouth wide open, you can almost taste it (taste what?).

His eyes are dark and deep and beautiful and they look down at you like –

He’s looking at you like –

His lips curl upwards into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, your heart skips ten beats and you – you just feel so warm –

underneath him – the comforting weight of his body against yours – that delectable smell dripping over you – his arms around you, holding you –

You cough out a noise you think is a laugh. Yuta tilts his head to the side with fondness written all over his face.

“That was a pretty heavy bout – good job!” He beams down at you, voice is full of praise pouring over you like liquid gold, “Are you alright?”

You open your mouth to tell him you are, and to your horror, you realize the noise you make. You’re purring.

Instantly your face is set on fire.

“I.” oh god. What. What the fuck, “I’m…” Your voice breaks in a rumble.

Oh god this is so weird, alphas don’t purr at other alphas, what’s wrong with you – “Yeah! Fine!”

You say it too loudly and it shows. Yuta’s so close to you there’s no way he can’t tell what’s happening.

Even otherwise, your voice is cracking like some kind of hormonal teenage boy and you just.

Evacuate. Evacuate immediately.

Your hands fly up to Yuta’s chest and you try desperately not to notice how surprisingly well-built he is as you shove him up and off you.

He offers no resistance, stepping up and offering you a hand which you ignore in favor of sprinting off, like a guilty person would do.

Seriously? Seriously? This would go down in history as the day your dignity died.  

Where was your pride as an alpha? Where was your – your anything, to be honest.

Why the fuck had you just?? Gone so completely gooey and melty underneath him when he smiled at you like that?

Even thinking back on it heats your face. Then again, the whole thing was super embarrassing, so your face was hot anyways.

It occurs to you, walking back to your room in great shame, that you weren’t actually worried about anyone finding out about this, just that it had happened.

Alphas don’t usually purr unless they’ve just knotted someone and they want them to feel good.

And omegas would typically only purr at close family members or intended mates; a lazy sign of comfort and peace, and very occasionally, a come-hither-I’m-feeling-frisky signal to their alpha.

Whatever conclusion could be made about you purring at Yuta from underneath him… there was no option that wasn’t utterly humiliating.

But you only had to worry about what Yuta would think.

You knew Yuta wouldn’t breathe a word about this. Probably not even if someone held a knife to his throat (not that they could… special grade and all).

…you start to feel kinda bad now, actually.

No matter how you’d poked or prodded, Yuta Okkotsu hadn’t snapped at you.

Unflinching in his kindness. Eager to help always, with a hand or some friendly advice. Protective and powerful, never hesitating to put himself between you and danger.

You’d been inching into his space. Stealing his things. Taunting him during practice.

Honestly, if someone else acted like this to you, you’d call them a pest. You wouldn’t smile at them. Not like that.

Yuta must’ve been some kind of saint in a past life, if nothing you’ve done bothers him at all.

It’s weird. It’s all weird. Alphas aren’t like this, neither of you should be like this.

-

It gets worse. It all gets worse, so much worse.

Your rut is in full swing now, burning through you, searing holes in every ounce of sanity you ever thought you had. Nothing is sacred anymore, nothing is off-limits. There’s no shame left and no restraint.

The most heinous ideas flit through your mind, little flashes, lewd imagery of holes to fuck into and knots to squeeze, the tight press of flesh on flesh and dark eyes and lips that curve so gently upwards.

A scent that flutters just at the edge of your senses like the well-worn pages of familiar book.

The best you can do is stop yourself from crying out. The images get clearer, until there’s no denying what they are.

Yuta, on his hands and knees.

All spread apart.

Above you.

Below.

Smiling gently. Whispering words into your ear.

His lean form, the sleek musculature you know from so many fits of sparring, finally bared for you to feast your eyes. “Do you like it, alpha?”

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Every fiber of your being cries out. The throbbing between your legs is unbearable.

“Do you want it?”

Never wanted anything more.

“You’re such a good alpha. I’m glad.”

Just the thought of the words, in his voice, draws a moan from your lips.

You want him. Want want want want WANT you NEED him where is he where can you find him? You’re going to hunt him down and –

The last remaining threads of your sanity grant you a burst of intuition.

A detail you’d never really forgotten:

The scarf on your desk. The one you hadn’t touched, hadn’t made smell like you. It should still smell like him.

Wait. Wait. What are you, some omega jerking off to the scent of your fucking crush –

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Crush. Okkotsu.

But you can’t get yourself to think about how that’s wrong, can’t convince yourself to deny anything when a pulsing, throbbing sensation between your legs screams mate mate my mate all mine –

Stumbling, staggering, all the way to the desk. Arm reaching out while you’re bent over and panting and nearly whining in your need.

Fuck. Pathetic, so pathetic.

And then you hold the scarf to your face, clutched in your hand like a lifeline. The scent of it is faint and inexplicably cozy, pure relief flooding through you.

It brings you to your knees. The ache between your legs demands attention and your other hand rushes to meet it, jerking and rubbing against your sexes while you sniffle and tear up.

Ruts suck when you spend them alone but this is better and worse than anything you’d ever experienced.

Bucking up into your hands, breathing in his scent like you can fill him in your lungs, inhale him like a cigarette and finally get rid of the pounding demand in your brain.

Every breath feels shallow, every grind against your hand only seems to make you hotter and hotter.

The ache in your core feels like being tugged around, demanding jerks of painful pleasure that don’t get you there, don’t get you what you need.

It’s all you can do to whimper and nuzzle into his scarf.

The primitive side of you urges you to pull it between your legs leg him take care of you, good mate, good alpha, let him feel you there, but your arm locks in place so you can keep breathing the scent like a lifeline.

When you finally do cum, you’re more exhausted than anything, spurting pitifully out over your hands and knees, knot bulging uselessly against your lower belly.

It leaks, slowly, painfully, as if to give you time to think about what you’ve done.

You decide you’d really rather not. Sliding a drawer open to pull out a toy, another toy, three of them, even – enough to overstimulate yourself to high hell, to keep every thought of Yuta and his scent out of your brain.

A vibrator in any hole you could fit it in, against anything that throbbed or ached. A fleshlight to fuck into, one a size too small just to make it hurt more.

Way less lubricant than you could have used, but somehow, your cunt leaks more than enough for all of it.

All to just barely stop the fantasies of a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a smile and a scent like the sun.

Without a doubt it’s the most miserable rut you’ve ever had.

You’re raw, red, and sore by the end of it and all you can feel is barely concealed rage at your own self for putting you through this shit.

You don’t even know if you’re mad that you fucked up, or that you’re crushing this fucking hard on a really nice dude you’ve been antagonizing for weeks.  

As soon as your rut ends, you steal another one of Yuta’s scarves.

You don’t give him anything in return this time.

-

Yuta likes women; this is something he’s known for a while.

It’s not until recently that he’s come to terms with the fact that he exclusively likes alpha women. He has you and Maki to thank for that.

In retrospect, considering his first love was a strong-willed young girl who proposed to him, it should probably have been more obvious.

Lucky for him, Rika also has a taste for alpha women, and she likes you much better than she liked Maki.

To be perfectly honest, it was Rika who liked you first.

The Rika he knew had passed on. The Rika beside him now is a curse that grew alongside him; in the image of his loved one, distorted and massive in all its malevolent glory.

She listened to him, for the most part, but perhaps because of some baser instincts of his – or perhaps some left-over preferences from Rika herself – she treats you with a particular affection.

You offer him a drink, moving just a touch too close to hand it over, and he feels Rika hum in approval.

His eyes glance over you unwillingly, your scent faint in his nose. It’s not as harsh as another alpha’s scent normally would be, either, which should have been his first warning.

Whenever you get close – too close, so much that it has to be on purpose – it’s almost overwhelming, so many emotions fluttering through him that he swears he can hear Rika giggling.

She likes it, too. You’re like fresh soil, like morning dew, the rainfall on a summer’s day.

He can tell, after one day he catches you right before your rut, wrestling with him, pinned underneath him and purring; you like him, too.

And then, he fucks it all up.

“Hey,” He calls you out by name and you turn back, meeting his eyes and walking back up to him.

The immediate response causes something dark and warm to burst in his chest; Rika purrs invisibly in his mind.

You try not to show it but you’re pleased when he calls out to you. He can smell it on you, happy pheromones that let him know you’re pleased he’s asked for you.

Not unlike an omega, and that thought really sets him going.

All this time you spent playing coy. Teasing him then running away, even from your own feelings.

You want him so bad but you’re so nervous, and seeing someone so strong and beautiful be so anxious about your want for him drives him completely and utterly insane.

It’s not like you’re cowardly, like he could be, sometimes.

You’re strong, you always give him a fight when you spar, you take the losses like a champ –

You would take his knot so so well RIKA PLEASE STOP THAT RIGHT NOW.

Now you’re staring at him, blushing like a schoolgirl, waiting for him to speak to you. So cute. So cute.

He’d caught you stealing his scarf again, you never gave any of it back. Are you building a nest? Do you like his scent like he likes yours?

Licking his lips, Yuta asks, “You’re – you’re an alpha, right?”

Oh. Oh, he should not have said that.

The surprise that flits across your face, and then the outrage, they tell him the same thing –

But his body receives a very different message, cock jumping in his pants at the scent.

All those times you’d sparred with him had trained him to get hard when you got in his space like this. Your scent wasn’t a threat, but a delicacy, and in his chest a rumble stuttered along with Rika.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Okkotsu?”

Oh. Family name. You were really mad.

He could tell his face had already fallen by how you looked torn between pity and anger.

An apology lurched to stutter out through his lips, but instead –

Instead –

On the tip of his tongue, the edge of his senses –

“Are you… wet?” It sounds like a question, but that’s sheer politeness on his part.

He can smell it on betas as well as omegas, so it made sense that he could smell it on a female alpha, too.

Your face is hot, bright red, and so, so darling.

He can tell Rika is as thrilled to see it as he is, that she longs to reach out with one of her massive claws and clutch around your shapely waist, hold you in place for him to –

“What the fuck? Okkotsu?!”

Oh no. No no no no no no no. No! “Rika! Rika, don’t hurt her!”

She’s not hurting you. She would never hurt you.

This is probably worse.

“Hurt me? Fucking – ff – hng,” Yuta can’t stop the lurch in his gut, the wave of pure arousal that washes over him at the sound you make, “Get her off me, Okkotsu, you – ”

Your face is so red. Your scent. Your scent. It’s perfuse, a strong, tangy thing, delicious, he’d grown addicted to it and wasn’t that your fault?

Didn’t you do this to him, on purpose? Don’t you want him like this?

Slipping him little tastes here and there, shoving it in his face all the time.

Passing him a sample while you sneakily stole his scarf, hoarding his scent like a needy little omega?

Teasing him, getting in his face while you were in rut?

Purring at him when he pinned you underneath him?

Flushing when he called out to you, looking back, running up to him eagerly like an obedient, darling thing?

Yuta thought he liked alpha women, and he does.

But it looks like he especially likes alpha women who go all soft and squishy for him without saying as much, squirming and blustering and making faces like they’d like to eat him as soon as they thought he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t be upset.” His hands roam down to your sides. He doesn’t miss how you jerk at the contact. “I asked so I could help. Are you wet?” He says your name, a dark fire in his eyes.

You watch his tongue dark between his lips. Bite back a whimper. “Help me how? What’s – what’s she doing?”

“Helping me help you.” If you don’t want to tell, he’ll just check for himself.

His hands are cold, though, and you can’t stop the high gasp that escapes you when his hands dig under your waistband.

He murmurs a soft apology and the curse behind you chitters, chilled claws carefully wrapped around your torso.

Yuta drags your shorts and panties down in one motion, cooing softly at you when you shriek, one hand caressing your shoulder while Rika purrs, pressing herself up against your back.

Filling your senses with pine and Yuta’s oil, a scent like fire that burns to behold.

Warms you like sunlight.

“Yuta-” Even you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but his fingers between your legs send your brain for a complete loop. “I – what are you – we’re in – ”

“I put up a veil,” Yuta says, like (he knows) that was your only real objection.

Or maybe he’s lying. Yuta could tell you he was wearing Ryomen Sukuna’s underwear and you’d believe him, as long as he looked at you like that.

The smile you love so much is hungry, now, with those eyes dark with desire, with a curse clawing at you tenderly, like she just can’t let you go for even a second. Churning pleased little noises with every press and flex of her massive fingers around you.

Fingers darting to spread open your folds, even as you squirm. Bared in broad daylight with Yuta right in front of you.

Circling your hole while he looks you in the eyes, pressed close enough to hear you whine.

“I knew you were wet,” He murmurs, in a soft voice that sends liquid heat dripping down your legs, “Could smell it.”

Yuta leans in. He’s so pretty, so handsome, such a dark and darling thing with those heavy, soulful eyes.

He’s so close that when he whispers your name, you feel it on your lips. “You smell so good.”

He didn’t sound this hot even in your daydreams. He’s so close. So close. His breath ghosts over you like a curse hanging on your shoulder.

Your mouth falls open. Watering, like your cunt. Desperate for a taste.

And maybe you’re still an alpha after all, because finally, finally, you dive in and take what you want.

He tastes as rich on your lips as he’s smelled, soft and oiled and coating your senses. Blotting out everything until all you know is him.

Him, teasing over your clit with careful strokes. Growling into the kiss like he’s warning you not to pull back, Rika pressing you forward like you’re two dolls she can’t wait to smash together.

Arms dart out to his shoulders to steady yourself as he dips his fingertips into your entrance. Generous, broad strokes over your folds he spreads your arousal all over, returning to rub at your clit as he pulls away.

It’s good. So good. The oncoming pleasure builds and builds slowly with his ministrations, pooling heavily in your lower half. The urge to buck into it overtakes you, writhing for more friction as sparks begin to fly against your clit, closer, closer –

And then it’s you who can’t look away, locked in place under his gaze. “You’re going to cum for me? Do you want to?”

God it’s so fucking close, tears blot your eyes as you jerk into his fingers, and Yuta doesn’t even try to deny you.

He smiles at you, carefree. He already has his prey in front of him, unable to escape, uninterested in even trying.

You give him a feverish nod. “Will you tell me so? I want to hear you.”

Just a little faster, just a little more, more, “More please, please, make me cum –”

An exhale of a breath you hadn’t known he was holding, diving in towards your neck, nuzzling against your scent. Burying your face in his shoulder where his own was strongest.

It’s that breath that puts you over the edge, fast strokes of his fingers finally igniting the heavy pleasure pent up in your lower belly, the scent of him pouring over you.

You cum with a cry, mouthing at his neck just to soothe yourself, to taste him.

You feel the wetness of his tongue on your own scent glands. Hot. Drooling. He suckles at your taste, soft lips pressed to bare, vulnerable skin, and you let your head roll to the side to give him more.

All you can feel now is warmth. Warmth and Yuta’s familiar scent that makes your insides twist, the aftershocks still shuddering through you, twitching in his hold like some pitiful creature.

Every muscle in your body relaxes, and it’s only Rika’s grasp on you keeping you up. Fortunately, she’s strong. So strong.

Her head nestles into your shoulder, scenting you. Sweet, chilling pine on your sweaty skin. She purrs you through the bliss, cool against your body caught against Yuta’s own.

There’s a hilariously awkward moment where the two of you start catching your breath. Yuta looks flushed, handsome, as lovely as ever.

Still, his eyes find yours. He smiles. He’s always smiling at you, you’ve started to realize.

The thought makes you happy.

You like it. You like it a lot. Like him.

He’s even better than the fantasies.

“I’m going into rut,” Yuta says. “Because of… this.”

You swallow. “Oh. Okay.”

It’s hard to think too much about it, when the heat in your core is still dissipating, face burning up while you have yet to regain control of your limps

And between the two of you, Yuta must be the real alpha, because he’s the one who goes and just says it already.

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Your… your rut?”

“Yes. I want you to spend it with me.” He’s so close. You can feel the heat of his breath between you. "If you want."

A pause. You try, oh lord, do you try, to gather your thoughts for just one moment. “Are you going to try and mark me?”

“Can I?” His eyes are too light, too eager, the words too quick to fall from his lips.

Alphas don’t ask for permission like puppies begging for treats. But Yuta, your Yuta, he’s already pleading with his eyes.

“Maybe you should be more worried about me marking you.”

“Would you?” Barely contained excitement oozes from him, from his pheromones to his bright expression.

You think you hear Rika giggle behind you. Pleased. Razor teeth ghosting over your ear in a little kiss, as if to urge you forth.

It’s working. If you fuck this boy, you’re gonna bite him.

You’re going to sink your teeth into him the first chance you get, make him yours yours all yours forever and have him every way he can bend, mark him up until he fucks you back into submission.

You’ll fuck him and fuck his curse girlfriend, too.

But it would be weird to just say it, right?

“Maybe.”

He laughs at that.

Oh. Yuta’s always been pretty good at reading between the lines, hasn’t he?

Or, you think as he leans in for a kiss, forehead pressed to yours – maybe he was just good at reading you.

[moonsaver]

Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;

He's manipulative, obviously.

But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.

So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.

Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.

However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.

Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.

A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.

Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)

Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.

You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.

You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.

The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.

Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.

And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.

The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.

Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..

Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..

Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..

Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?

Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?

Oh...ogh. . My heart.

Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.

I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy

Particularly because it seems so healthy

If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.

I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.

I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.

Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.

His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.

Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"

Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.

Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy

So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.

[sunrenity]

SLOW DANCING  、YJW

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ your enemy asks you to dance with him, as both of you have no date for prom.

𝓎ang 𝒿ungwon ㅤ✶ㅤ female readerㅤ ｡｡｡ ㅤenemies to lovers, fluffㅤⓘㅤskinship, kissingㅤwcㅤ936ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤjungwon in a suit.. 🫠

your fingers fidget with the hem of your dress as you linger near the refreshment table, the vibrant lights of the gymnasium casting playful shadows across the polished floor. the music thrums through the air, mingling with the excited chatter and laughter of your classmates, all blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil.

your date, the one you had envisioned sharing this night with, had ditched you for another girl. you saw them earlier, twirling and laughing in the center of the dance floor, their hands intertwined in a mockery of the promises he had made to you. it stung, a sharp, unexpected twist of betrayal.

lost in thought, you barely notice jungwon approaching until he’s standing directly in front of you. his presence is like a sudden shift in the air, the kind that demands attention whether you want to give it or not. his dark eyes are unwavering, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken despite yourself.

jungwon is your enemy, the thorn in your side throughout high school. his quick wit and sharp tongue have often clashed with your own, and the rivalry has been nothing short of legendary. yet here he is, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his suit, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he takes you in.

“hey,” he says, his voice low enough that it almost gets lost in the music.

you arch an eyebrow, your guard immediately rising. “what do you want, jungwon?”

he chuckles, a sound that somehow manages to be both irritating and mesmerizing. “relax. i’m not here to start a fight.”

“could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the punch bowl, but his next words stop you cold.

“dance with me.”

you blink, sure you must have misheard him. “what?”

“i’m asking you to dance with me,” he repeats, his tone steady. “we both don’t have dates, so…”

you’re tempted to scoff, to tell him exactly where he can shove his invitation, but there’s something in his expression that gives you pause. a vulnerability, perhaps, or maybe it’s the way his gaze seems to soften as it lingers on you.

"why?” you ask, genuinely curious. “why would you want to dance with me?”

he hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “maybe i just want to have a good time tonight.”

you consider his words, the sincerity in them. against your better judgment, you find yourself nodding. “alright. one dance.”

his face breaks into a rare, genuine smile, and he extends his hand towards you. tentatively, you place your hand in his, and he leads you to the dance floor. the contact sends a shiver up your spine, a thrill of something you can’t quite identify.

as he pulls you closer, the music slows, and the lights dim, casting a warm, intimate glow over the room. his hand settles on your waist, firm yet gentle, while the other holds yours, guiding you effortlessly into the rhythm of the song. you find yourself relaxing, your body responding to his in a way that feels surprisingly natural.

for a moment, the rest of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, moving together in perfect harmony. you glance up at him, expecting to see the usual smugness in his eyes, but instead, you find a softness, an almost tender expression that takes your breath away.

“what?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“nothing,” you reply, shaking your head slightly. “just… surprised, i guess.”

“surprised that i can be a decent human being?” he teases, though there’s no bite to his words.

“something like that,” you admit, a small smile playing at your lips.

the song continues, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his body against yours, the warmth of his hand in yours. you can’t deny the chemistry, the undeniable pull between you, and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

as the final notes of the song fade away, you expect him to let go, to step back and return to the antagonistic dance you’ve always known. but instead, he lingers, his gaze locked on yours.

his breath mingles with yours, the proximity doing strange things to your heart. “you know,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your ear, “you’re different tonight.”

you chuckle, a nervous sound that escapes despite your best efforts to remain composed. “different how?”

his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, a simple, innocent gesture that sets your nerves alight. “less guarded. more… open.”

you swallow hard, the sincerity in his eyes making it difficult to maintain your defenses. “maybe because i’m not in the mood to fight tonight,” you confess, surprising yourself with the honesty of your words.

“then let’s not fight,” he says, his voice tender. “not tonight.”

before you can respond, he dips his head, his lips brushing against yours in the faintest of kisses. it’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. instead, you lean into him, your lips moving against his in a dance that feels as natural as breathing.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes search yours for any sign of regret. finding none, he smiles — a genuine, heart-stopping smile that makes your heart flutter.

“can we start over?” he asks, his thumb now gently tracing circles on your hip.

you nod, unable to find your voice, the emotions swirling within you too overwhelming for words.

“good,” he whispers, pulling you closer once more as a new song begins. “because i think i’d like to see where this goes.”

[rey-jake-therapist]

Whenever I rewatch season 1 now, it breaks my heart a bit to see how relax and happy Sauron was around Galadriel. He smiled, laughed, joked, bickered with Galadriel, he ate and drank... the man had the time of his life!

I mean, you can say it was mostly an act to manipulate Galadriel if you want, but there's no way it was all fake. There were several times when we saw him react to a certain way while neither Galadriel or anyone else was watching. It's even more obvious now that we see him in his Annatar form : every time he fakes an emotion for someone, as soon as their back is turned his face is closed. It's pretty terrifying. When I see some people claim it's exactly the same thing he's doing with Celebrimbor as he did with Galadriel... I have the feeling they missed the point, somehow.

One thing noticeable is that he was constantly looking at Galadriel, whenever she was close to him he couldn't just stop take his eyes off her. Call me delulu all you want, I'm sure her presence explained a lot why he was so relax, happy and shall I say.... Kind? I mean, the one time she went away without him he nearly killed four men 😭When Gal was here, he behaved !

No wonder why he's so grumpy now as Annatar. He has no one around him who's got enough light to balance the darkness that consumed him. The moth lost his favorite flame, and now he's constantly bitter, dead eyed, unable to laugh anymore, and cruel. Someone here noticed that we never see him eat or drink anything. Darkness, unbalanced, has taken over again. For good, we know.

The only time we see a glimpse of his Halbrand self reappear is when he notices the resemblance between Mirdania and Galadriel, and it's again a question of light. It starts as pure flattery from his part to manipulate her, but his smile at his moment seems sincere. More sincere than any other of Annatar's smile, anyway.

Imho, Sauron was dead ass serious when he told Galadriel that with her at his side, he wouldn't be dark. It doesn't matter that he was right or wrong ; I think he really meant it, because he had already felt the influence she had on him.

I believe the last thing he wanted was for Galadriel to become a "dark queen", though it would have happened eventually because he would have influenced her just as much as she would have. He didn't want her to become like him, but to prevent him from getting worse. He wanted her to fix him, basically.

We can thank Charlie Vickers for his stellar acting. What a wonderful portrait of a complex "man" he's giving us here....

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Nervous mc meeting her boyfriends familly !!

for: Azul, Jade, Duece, Malleus, Jamil

(Had to make a lot of assumptions in this bc we don't really know what MOST of their parents are like so)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul’s mother has a keen eye and a serious look on her face when you first meet; if you’re not of a tough constitution you might falter under her gaze but otherwise she presents the front of a protective mother looking out for her son. She had made her own bad choices in the past (ex: first husband) but she knew Azul was a little more discerning when it came to that; he had to know the proper way to treat a lover just from seeing his mother with her current husband. She didn’t want to openly doubt your sincerity but there’s a quiet threat lingering between you that if you were to ever break her sons heart, land or sea she WILL be finding you.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce’s mom is the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and her kindness bleeds into the meeting immediately as she makes you feel as comfortable as possible in her home. She wants you to treat it as your own, fawning over how sweet and cute you were, tearing up a little that Deuce found someone like you. She gladly embarrasses her son to the point all your nervousness melted away, but Deuce was then left twice as nervous as he had not a single clue what kind of memories his mom held in the hefty albums she placed on the table in front of you.

Jade Leech:

The Leech parents are scary at first sight, but appearance isn’t everything. Once they know who you are, and trust me, Jade has written home about you, they’re very welcoming. They practically consider you part of the family since Jade is so found of you, and they admit to being a bit worried that either one of their sons would find a partner suitable for them. They do try to make things a little less intimidating, telling their definitely normal business people bodyguards to remain mostly out of sight so you feel more at ease.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is a little embarrassed to introduce you to his family, but he knew he’d get more grief from his sister than his parents. She wants dirt but she’s on her best behavior in front of their parents, who greet you respectfully and welcome you into their home wholeheartedly. You can see that his mother is quite warm from the start, with his father mentioning that they had been eagerly awaiting their official meeting with you; he was also eagerly awaiting a day where they met your parental figures, which caused Jamil to let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

Malleus Draconia:

You have never been more stressed in your life. No matter how much Malleus, and Lilia to some extent, tried to assure you that you simply had to exude a level of confidence that showed you weren’t easily intimidated, it would be smooth sailing. Easier said than done when she’s a woman even more intimidating that Malleus himself, who you loved dearly and could still admit he had his moments where he was strikingly terrifying. She’s proper, not necessarily friendly but kind as she invited you into her home, making it clear that as long as you were respectful and followed the rules she laid out, the two of you would have no trouble getting along.

[sturnsreckless]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆,, c.sturniolo

summary: chris tried so hard to support you through your drug addiction that had been ongoing for a year, every time he got you out, you fell back into the hole. one day chris had finally had enough and had a talk with you about wether or not you were willing to change for him, but once you say can’t, he leaves your relationship behind for good.

cw: angst, drug addiction (doesn’t go into any sort of description), crying, breaking up.

a/n: this took like two months to finish and i’m so relived i finished it, but enjoy. also, spread kindness and love, you never know what someone is going through in life. i love each and every single one of you guys.

ever since you turned 18, life took a dark turn that no one saw coming. the thrill of adulthood quickly faded, replaced by an insatiable craving for drugs that clouded your mind and overwhelmed your spirit. chris, your boyfriend, stood by your side, determined to help you break free from the chains of addiction. he offered support, kept you away from parties to avoid drugs being in your possession, and even tried to distract you with adventures, hoping to rekindle the joy you once had in your life.

but each time he thought you were making progress, the grip of the addictive substances would pull you back in. you'd promise him it would be the last time, but the cycle continued, leaving chris feeling helpless and heartbroken. he watched as the vibrant person he once loved slowly faded away, replaced by someone consumed by the highs and lows of addiction.

after countless attempts of trying to reach you, chris had finally reached his breaking point. he stood in front of you, eyes filled with a mix of frustration and sorrow, and said, "i can't do this anymore. i can't keep watching you destroy yourself like this."

those words hung heavy in the air, echoing the painful reality that your relationship was now teetering on the edge of collapse.

you felt the weight of chris' words crash down on you like a tidal wave. the hurt in his voice was unmistakable, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of clarity amidst the haze of addiction. you wanted to reach out, to tell him that you were sorry, that you didn't want to lose him, but the fear of vulnerability held you back.

chris turned away, his frustration evident as he paced his room. "i've tried everything, but i can't keep sacrificing my own well-being for you. you need to want this for yourself." his voice was tight, strained from the emotional burden he had been carrying. you could see the pain etched on his face, a painful reminder of how far you had fallen.

in the moment, you realised that your addiction had not only trapped you but also threatened to destroy the most important relationship in your life. you took a deep breath, fighting back tears, and finally whispered, "i don't want to lose you, chris. i just don't know how to stop." the vulnerability in your voice hung in the air, a desperate plea for understanding and a lifeline back to the person you used to be.

chris paused, his back still turned to you, and you could see the tension in his shoulders. slowly, he turned around, his expression softening just a fraction. "you need to take that first step, even if it's the hardest thing you've ever done," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "i can't fight this battle for you, but i'll be here to support you every step of the way if you're ready to try."

you felt a rush of conflicting emotions — fear, hope, and a deep seated anxiety that gnawed at your insides. the thought of facing your addiction head-on felt overwhelming, but the idea of losing chris was even more terrifying. "what if i fail again?" you asked, your voice trembling, "what if i let you down?"

chris took a step closer, his gaze steady and sincere. "you might stumble, but that doesn't mean you've failed. it means you're human. what matters is that you keep trying. i believe in you, even when you don't believe in yourself." his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you could begin to reclaim your life.

you took a deep breath, the weight of chris' words hanging heavily in the air. "i don't know if i can do it," you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment crashing down on you again. "what if i just end up hurting you more?"

chris looked at you with a mixture of concern and frustration. "you're not the only one hurting here. i can't keep watching you spiral down this path. it's tearing me apart." his voice was strained, and you could see the toll this had taken on him. the reality of the situation settled in like a thick fog, suffocating and unyielding.

as silence enveloped the room, you felt a sense of despair creeping in. you wanted to believe that change was possible, but the shadows of doubt loomed larger. "maybe i'm just not meant to get better," you whispered, the hopelessness creeping into your heart. chris' expression faltered, and for a moment, you both stood there, caught in the truthful pain that sometimes, despite the love and support, not every story has a happy ending.

chris ran a hand through his hair, frustration and sadness mixing in his eyes. “you can’t think like that. it’s not true. but i can’t keep doing this if you’re not willing to fight for yourself,” he said, his voice firm yet pained. “i’m here, but i can’t be your crutch forever. you have to want this y/n.”

you felt a sting of his words, each one a reminder of the reality you were trying to escape. “what if i don’t know how to want it?” you replied, your voice cracking. “what if im just too far gone?” the tears began to well up, and you fought to keep them at bay, not wanting to show chris just have vulnerable you felt.

he stepped closer, his expression softening again, but the distance between you felt insurmountable. “i can’t answer that for you. all i can do is stand here and hope you find the strength to take that step. but i can’t keep waiting.” he said, the finality in his tone hitting you like a cold wave. you realised then that this moment might be a turning point, but it could also be the beginning of the end for what you both had fought so hard to hold onto.

you felt a knot tightening in your stomach as his words sank in. “so, what happens if i can’t?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. the uncertainty clawed at you, and the thought of losing chris loomed larger than ever. “is this really it?”

chris sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. “i don’t want it to be, but i can’t keep sacrificing my own well-being. it’s not fair to either of us,” he replied, his tone heavy with regret. “you have to choose, but i can’t make that choice for you.”

the silence that followed was deafening, each second stretching out painfully. you could see the hurt in his eyes, the flicker of hope battling against despair. “i just… i wish things were different,” you admitted, feeling the tears finally spill over. “but i don’t know how to change.”

as you stood there, the reality of the situation settled in, and you realised that sometimes, no matter how much you want to hold onto something, you have to confront the possibility that it might slip away.

you took a step back, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “chris, i don’t think i can do this. i want to, but it feels too big, too overwhelming,” you said, your voice trembling.

chris’ expression shifted, a mix of understanding and disappointed clothing his features. “i get that, but i can’t keep waiting for you to figure it out. i need to take care of myself too,” he replied softly, the hurt evident in his eyes.

as he turned to leave, a part of you felt like it was breaking. “wait, please don’t go,” you called out, desperation creeping into your voice. but he paused for just a moment, looking back at you with a heavy heart. “i have to, for both of us,” he said before walking away, leaving you standing there, feeling more lost than ever.

you felt a surge of panic as you watched him walk away, and without thinking, you rushed after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “chris, please!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night.

when you reached him, you grabbed his arm, turning him to face you. the tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free at a rapid pace, streaming down your face. “i can’t let you go like this. i’m so scared of losing you,” you cried, the weight of your emotions crashing down around you.

chris’ eyes softened as he took a step closer, but the distance between you felt insurmountable. “i don’t want to hurt you, but i can’t keep holding on when you’re not ready,” he said gently, his own tears now falling. the pain in his voice only made your heart ache more, and you felt completely vulnerable, exposed in your grief, “i need you to understand,” he continued, but the words felt like they were slipping away as you broke down in front of him, feeling utterly lost.

chris stepped closer, pulling you into a warm embrace, his presence a comforting balm against the pain swelling inside you. “i know this is hard,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i care about you so much, and i want to be here for you.”

as you leaned into him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, you thought maybe there was hope. but then he pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “but i can’t keep doing this. it’s tearing us apart, and i don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he confessed, his voice trembling.

you felt a lump in your throat as you tried to process his words. “chris. please…” you started, but he shook his head gently. “you need to find you own way, and so do i.”

in that moment, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss that felt like a goodbye. it was tender and filled with all the unspoken words between you. when he finally pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, but he forces a small smile. “take care of yourself, y/n.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. then, with one last look, he turned and walked out of your house, leaving you standing there, feeling the weight of forever in his absence.

@sturnsreckless

[toruro]

— ✧ can't you see me? — y. jeonghan x reader (teaser)

description. when you ended up going to the same university as your brother's best friend, you didn't really expect to end up in his bed. you definitely didn't expect to find yourselves knee-deep in a friends-with-benefits situation mere months later, yet here you are. but all is fine, because jeonghan's a great guy—he's handsome and funny and kind and sincere. there's just one tiny hiccup: he's slowly starting to fall in love with you.

— genre. smut (18+ / mdni), fwb, brother's best friend, fluff, angst — tags (for the teaser). mentions of sexual insecurity, mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of sex (no actual smut in the teaser though) — w/c. 460+ (teaser), full fic estimated 10k+ — taglist.

Jeonghan took your virginity in your freshman year of college.

You were nervous from the very start. Nervous about the big girl world and Jeonghan was a rock—a piece of familiarity that stuck by your side—who helped you whenever you were in need.

Helped you find your classes, gave you company when you were a little too shy to go find it yourself in the dining hall, and invited you to your first party. One day you might’ve let it slip that you were a virgin. A virgin and terrified, because you thought the big girl world had no room for your apprehension.

Jeonghan had told you that it’s okay—that you should take all the time you need. He was sincere about it—you’ll never doubt that—which is probably why you were so fine with asking him to whisk the sacred shell of your virginity away a few nights later when you found comfort in his apartment.

He had said no at first. Thought it was too fast. Thought it would mean too much. It scared him, probably more than it scared you. Jeonghan hates lies, so he told you the truth and said to do it with someone who means something.

Two nights later when you sat awkwardly on his couch after he saved you from a boring ass party, it struck him that maybe he was overthinking things.

He was just helping you out. At least that’s what Jeonghan told himself. It’s what he repeated in his head when he kissed away your worries and pressed you into his bed. It’s what he repeated when his fingers were knuckle deep inside of you and it’s what he repeated when he fucked his best friend’s little sister for the first time.

It took two months for him to realize what followed was maybe a bit more than just a little help. Somewhere between the lines, sex between you and Jeonghan had turned from wanting experience to a mutual understanding, and both of you were surprisingly okay with that.

Any qualms that Jeonghan might’ve had about starting a thing with his best friend’s little sister had washed away weeks ago—after he sank into you, after he taught you to take him into your mouth, after he buried his face between your legs and—yeah. A thing.

Maybe stuff became a little complicated four months after you both established your thing, because you both found out that Cheol had transferred to your university and would be moving in with Jeonghan, but that’s okay. After all, you and Jeonghan are two consenting adults in a mutually beneficial thing, and what Cheol doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Jeonghan doesn’t really like lies or things, but again, he feels like as long as he tip-toes at the edge of this cliff, it’ll be fine.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Wrapped in Love

Word Count: 1074

Warnings: None

Ken Sato x Fem!Wife!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Ken slipped his key into the lock, the quiet clink of the tumblers turning almost lost to the world as he pushed open the door to your apartment. The familiar scent of home washed over him—fresh flowers on the table, a hint of your perfume lingering in the air. He was drained from the day, but just being here started to unravel the tension woven tightly through his muscles. Stepping inside, he set his helmet on the kitchen counter with a soft clatter, his fingers lingering on it briefly before he turned toward the warm glow coming from the kitchen.

That’s where he found you, leaning against the counter, a jar of pickles open in your hand. You were staring at the nutrition label, chewing absentmindedly, as if you were more interested in figuring out some riddle than actually eating. The sight of you—slightly rumpled, bathed in the golden light of the kitchen—made his heart swell. He took a second to savor the moment, just watching as you turned the jar in your hand with a faint frown.

“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice soft but warm enough to catch your attention. You glanced up, eyebrows raising in surprise before a soft smile spread across your face.

“Ken,” you murmured, relief and affection mingling in your tone. You set the jar down on the counter, abandoning the label’s mysteries as you focused on him, and he moved closer, drinking in the sight of you.

“Long day?” you asked, leaning back against the counter as he approached.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied with a sigh, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. The tiredness in his eyes softened as he looked at you, taking in every detail. “But being home is exactly what I needed.”

Your expression warmed, and you pushed the pickle jar a little closer, a playful glint in your eye. “Well, we’ve got pickles and… more pickles.” You shrugged, your lips quirking in a small, amused smile. “It’s what the baby wants, apparently.”

“Pickles, huh?” Ken raised an eyebrow, reaching past you to grab a fork and poking around in the jar. He fished out a pickle and took a bite, making an exaggeratedly thoughtful face. “Mmm. I can see why they’d be a top choice.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you nudged him with your shoulder. “Oh, please. I think it’s cute the baby has such specific cravings,” he teased, nudging you back.

Your laugh quieted, and you leaned a little closer, letting out a sigh as your head found its way to his shoulder. “I’m just… exhausted,” you murmured, a note of vulnerability in your voice. “People keep saying I’m ‘glowing,’ but honestly? I feel the exact opposite.”

Ken wrapped an arm around you, rubbing gentle circles into your back as he looked down at you, his face softening with understanding. “Glowing or not, you’re still the most beautiful person I know,” he murmured, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that settled warmly around you.

“Hmm, cheesy,” you murmured, smiling despite yourself. “But you’re sweet.” You closed your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the solid warmth of his embrace. You felt his hand drift to your growing belly, his palm pressing lightly over the fabric of your shirt, tracing the small curve. His touch was so reverent, so filled with quiet awe, that you couldn’t help but look down as well.

His eyes lingered on your stomach, a soft grin curving his lips as he let his hand settle there, warm and reassuring. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, a blend of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “It’s… kind of terrifying, honestly.”

He gave you a small, encouraging smile, his hand never leaving your belly. “It’s okay to be scared,” he murmured. “I am too. But we’re going to figure this out together, one step at a time.”

The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His voice was soft and filled with a depth of feeling that made the future seem a little less overwhelming.

You bit your lip, a question lingering on the tip of your tongue. “Do you think… do you think we’re ready for this?” It was a question you’d been carrying around, one that seemed to grow heavier every day.

Ken took a breath, his fingers gently tracing circles on your belly as he looked up at you with those soft, reassuring eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his tone gentle but honest. “But I know we’re going to try our hardest. And I think… I think that’s what matters most.”

The vulnerability in his gaze made your chest ache, and you reached up, brushing a hand through his hair, feeling the slight tension that lingered there. “You’re always so calm about everything,” you said softly, a hint of admiration in your voice. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that made you feel like everything might just be okay. “You don’t see me when I’m pacing around, freaking out about all the things we haven’t even thought of yet,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I just save all my calm moments for you.”

You both shared a laugh, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Besides,” he whispered, his hand moving up to cup your face, “when I’m with you, it’s easy to believe everything will be alright.”

The kitchen was quiet, the only sounds the hum of the refrigerator and your steady breathing. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace settle over you like a blanket. “Ken…” you murmured, your voice soft and vulnerable. “You’re going to be such an amazing dad.”

He looked down at you, his gaze soft and filled with a gentle determination. “I hope so. But I already know you’re going to be an incredible mom.” His hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours as he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

Your eyes watered slightly, a lump forming in your throat as you felt the enormity of what you were both about to embark on. “Promise we’ll figure it out together?”

Ken pressed a gentle kiss to your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. “I promise,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet strength that made you believe every word. “We’re in this together. Always.”