#i can not wait to write more of their relationship

[checkeredflagggs]

Bouquets of Love

pairing: oscar piastri x secret admirer!reader

summary: oscar has no idea who is leaving such gorgeous bouquets for him but he’s very grateful (and very determined to find out who)

a/n1: I’m gonna need you guys to repeat after me — suspend your disbelief please

a/n2: this idea really came from sin’s discord cause we like imagining oscar dating a florist — blushing every time he’s handed a bouquet…good image

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages

Bluesky

user1: oscar has a secret admirer?!?

↳user2: oh that’s so cute!

↳user1: right?

user3: don’t worry guys they were from me

↳user4: nah sorry man they were actually from me

user5: ok but did anyone get any footage of Oscar receiving the flowers? Cause this is him —> 😳😳

↳user6: wait how did you know?? 😂

↳user7: no but be so for real i can just see him being so blushy getting flowers

↳user8: you paint such a vivid picture…

user9: i wanna know who’s leaving him flowers…does he have a girlfriend??

↳user10: none that we know of! But tbh he’s like the top of the grid for having a secret relationship

↳user9: that’s very true

Private Messages

Bluesky

user11: ohhh someone is pulling out all the stops this V-Day!

user12: oh to be wooed with gorgeous gorgeous flower bouquets…

user13: I know we’re all joking about this but damn those are pretty!

user14: I know we’re all joking about this but how is it getting to his car?

↳oscarpiastri: that’s a very good question…

↳user14: oscar!

↳user15: you’ve been seen!

↳user14: yeah I don’t know if I like this or not…

oscarpiastri: you say you saw me getting the bouquet — does this mean you saw who did it?

↳81fan: sorry king but all I saw was a person in a long coat turning the corner

↳oscarpiastri: tall? Short? Average? Hair color? Skin color?

↳81fan: literally just the edge of their coat

↳81fan: tbh I only suspect them because they were hurrying away

↳oscarpiastri: so you’re really no help at all are you?

↳81fan: you can get kinda mean can’t you?

petals_and_pedals

liked by user, alexandrasaintmleux, user, and 18,193 others

petals_and_pedals: with Valentine’s Day coming up, stop right in for (almost) all of your needs!

view all comments

user16: do you sell everything there?

↳petals_and_pedals: hahaha it seems like it doesn’t it? But no, just flowers and formula 1!

↳user16: why?

↳petals_and_pedals: our parents left us an empty shop and we couldn’t agree on anything — so my brother runs the f1 side and I run the flower side!

↳user16: ok that’s cute

yourbrother: don’t forget to mention the sale

↳petals_and_pedals: oh yeah! Everything fast is 10% off this week. Everything pretty is 15% off this week!

↳user17: ok but what if they’re both?

↳petals_and_pedals: example?

↳user17: Charles Leclerc? Lewis Hamilton?

↳petals_and_pedals: not really my style tbh

↳user17: 😱😱😱

user18: do you sell premade bouquets?

↳petals_and_pedals: we do! And they come in a variety of sizes and styles!

user19: hmmm… 🤔

↳user19: user53 do you know what I’m thinking?

↳user53: …I do damn it

user20: if we don’t know exactly what we want?

↳petals_and_pedals: we’re here to help!

alexandrasaintmleux: charles_leclerc

↳charles_leclerc: hint received 😊 liked by alexandrasaintmleux

↳petals_and_pedals: if you dm us your favorite colors and flowers we can do a custom bouquet!

↳alexandrasaintmleux: 🩷🩷

Private Messages

Bluesky

user21: I’m loving this

↳user22: right? This is a romcom book waiting to happening

↳user23: I’m writing it as we speak

user24: ok where’s the crazy good detective user?

↳user19: I’m already working on it! And I think I’ve got it

↳user24: keep us updated!

oscarpiastri: if you people are gonna keep stalking my car, I’m going to need you guys to get better at photography

↳papaya_4ever: tbh it’s more fun watching you fumble this investigation

↳oscarpiastri: I’m gonna make sure you never get to go to a Grand Prix again in your life

↳papaya_4ever: not as much a threat as you think!

alex_albon: so this is what has you spamming the chats?

↳user25: he’s also freaking out about it to you guys??

↳alex_albon: everyone who lives in his building!

↳user25: that’s funny af

↳oscarpiastri: it is not!!

Bluesky

user26: WE GOT A SIGHTING!

↳user27: can anyone tell me why im more invested in this relationship then anything else in my life right now???

user28: I’m so sat right now. I can not wait for the finale of this…

↳user29: almost worth it to get the popcorn out…

oscarpiastri: ok I’m going to need you to give me a full debrief right now

↳81_4!: …not with that attitude

↳oscarpiastri: 😑😡

↳81_4!: yeah you scare me

↳81_4!: goodbye

↳oscarpiastri: get back here and explain yourself

logansargeant: damn…I wanted this to go on longer…

↳oscarpiastri: you know I’m kinda glad you’re not gonna be around anymore

↳alex_albon: wow you do get mean when you don’t get your way

↳logansargeant: he’s always been like this — ignore it

user19: ehehehehe I solved it

↳user53: yeah you did!

↳oscarpiastri: start talking

↳user19: already tagged you on her page!

↳oscarpiastri: I like you best

↳user53: no

petals_and_pedals

liked by user, francisca.cgomes, user19, and 11,813 others

petals_and_pedals: some of the bouquets premade for Valentine’s Day this Friday! Come stop in and make the day of love a special one!

view all comments

user30: those are so gorgeous!

↳petals_and_pedals: and on sale! liked by user26

francisca.cgomes: I hear you do custom bouquets?

↳petals_and_pedals: we do! Dm us and we can get started on making the perfect one for you!

↳francisca.cgomes: pierregasly!!

↳pierregasly: got it!

user19: ahahaha got it! oscarpiastri is this the bouquet you got today?

↳oscarpiastri: it is…good catch

↳user53: good job babe!

↳user31: babe??!?

Bluesky

user32: he got the girl!!!

↳user33: always believed in him!

↳user34: really?

↳user33: not at all! It was funny watching him freak out

user35: he got the date on Valentine’s Day??

↳user36: wait stop that’s so cute…

oscarpiastri: ok I wasn’t being plagued by bouquets…

↳logansargeant: really? Could have fooled me the way you were freaking out about it…

↳user37: really?

↳logansargeant: constantly. He was terrorizing everyone trying to find out who did it

↳oscarpiastri: go back to America and leave me alone

↳logansargeant: 😂😂

georgerussell63: Finally

↳user38: it couldn’t have been that bad…

↳georgerussell63: He yelled at me for 5 minutes because I couldn’t give him any camera footage from the garage.

↳user38: Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him…

↳georgerussell63: Neither did I…

yourbrother: damn I didn’t have papaya on the bingo card…

↳oscarpiastri: it’s the only color on the bingo card now…

↳yourusername: awwww 🥰🥰

↳yourbrother: I feel like that was a threat

↳oscarpiastri: it was. Yes. liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 1,923,924 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: I got the girl and now she’s the one getting bouquets

view all comments

yourusername: you’re actually so adorable…

↳oscarpiastri: obviously but you don’t have to tell everyone that…

user39: ok I’ve only had them for a couple of hours but if anything happened to them I’d kill everyone then myself… liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername

yourbrother: gladly, she’s your problem now

↳yourusername: that’s not very brotherly of you…

↳yourbrother: I don’t care. Get out of the store and go have a life

↳yourusername: rude

charles_leclerc: a new daughter-in-law!

↳oscarpiastri: not yet…

↳yourusername: 😳😳

user40: google - how to be adopted into this family

↳yourusername: sorry but this one is mine

↳oscarpiastri: absolutely

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff

[vettelsvee]

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

[minorlyatfault]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 !

j. todd x f!reader

𝒮ynposis: jason todd is a yearner & a true lover boy. when he loves, he loves hard yet quietly. he doesn’t express his affection through grand gestures but through the little things▰remembering your favorite song lyrics, the exact shade of your favorite color, & writing love letters he’ll never send because he’s too shy.

even though he’s already in a relationship with you, he still feels the butterflies whenever you're around. during gotham’s chaotic nights, while patrolling the city, he finds himself missing your touch, longing for your presence. even in the middle of his hardest missions, his thoughts always drift back to you▰wondering what small gift he can bring home just to see you smile.

𝒲arnings : my 3 am writing, grammatical errors(?) separated povs of dear beloved jason & reader. backstory of mr. bugs bunny if u squint.

𝒩ote:

001: idea was from @/tiredtodd on tiktok!

002: I JAD TO REWRITE TGIS TWOBTIMES & TRIED SAVING IT INMY DRAFTS FOUR TIMES

003: ikindof hatetgis..

004: SAY MY MY NAME & EVERYTHING JUST STOPS.

005: thank u for 100 followers ongonfongong/srs/srs/srs/srs

gotham never sleeps.

nor does jason.

it’s been one of those nights▰the kind where criminals seem to crawl out of their skin to horrify citizens once more, where no matter how many heads he cracks, there’s always another fight waiting around the corner. his knuckles are sore beneath his gloves, guns being out of bullets, his ribs ache from a particularly nasty hit, & the sting of fresh cuts lingers across his skin.

still, none of that is what’s bothering him.

he sits on the ledge of a building, letting out a deep sigh, his view of the city blurred through smoky neon below. he should go back now, but he waits, holds his breath, looks down into the streets, limned in dim light, & stares & stares, & stares.

this weight in his chest is unfamiliar, yet so painfully recognizable.

he's always been the guy to carry his burdens alone, shouldering the consequences that comes with being red hood without complaint. but ever since you walked into his life▰sweet, soft, full of warmth in a way gotham could never be▰ things have changed.

his fingers twitch,& he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. he doesn't have to look. he knows.

a note.

one of several, in fact.

he writes them when the nights feel like they stretch into forever & when the silence weighs too much on his chest. little notes he can never possibly say to you. this note is no different. folded neatly, shoved between the worn pages of an old book carried around in the pocket▰words he'll never give to you, yet still can't let himself get rid of.

some people would throw anything they did that are considered embarrassing, but no, not jason.

"you looked cute today. i wanted to tell you, but i figured you already knew."

"i stole your lip gloss again. smells like blueberries. reminds me of you."

it's stupid, he tells himself. you're right there in his life. he sees you every day▰watches you hum to yourself while fixing your hair(sometimes he'd help by brushing your hair using his fingers), twirling a ribbon between your fingers(he'd also participate in this activity, claiming it to be “stupid” but won't refuse, not when you seem to enjoying yourself so much), picking out outfits with that soft, thoughtful expression he's come to love(you convinced him to match sanrio pjs once, he didn't rebuff the idea). you don't belong in the shadows like he does. you're all bows & butterflies, a contrast so complete it should have driven him away.

but it didn't.

it never could.

jason breathes, smoothing his hair with a gloved hand. he should go home. he should crawl into bed, let you fuss over his injuries, pretend he doesn't love the way your hands linger just a little longer when you patch him up.

instead, he finds himself moving▰leaping across rooftops, scanning the streets for something(other than crime). he's not even sure what he's looking for, only that the ache in his chest won't settle until he finds something to bring back to you.

it's a habit he's never acknowledged out loud.

some men bring their girls flowers. others bring chocolates, jewelry, grand gestures that scream their affections for the world to see.

jason todd?

he brings gotham to you.

not in the way it brings bloodshed and violence▰no, never that. but in the little things. trinkets he finds on his patrols, things that make him think of you. a pressed flower growing between the cracks of an old building. a charm bracelet abandoned in a crime scene alleyway.

once, he even found a small, tattered bunny plushie, barely holding together. he cleaned it up, stitched it as well as he could, & just put it on your dresser and left without saying anything.

you never asked him where it came from. you only smiled, kissed his cheek, & said, "he looks well-loved."

jason had to get out of the room after that.

tonight, he sees something that lines one of the fringes of crime alley▰a small street vendor selling handmade trinkets at barely subsistence living. most people don't even give him a glance anymore, being so wrapped up in their problems that they don't care.

there's a necklace resting among the clutter, the kind of thing he can imagine you wearing▰a small pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, subtle yet elegant. he doesn't think twice before pulling out a few crumpled bills(that is probably two times higher than it's price), handing them over without a word.

the vendor barely gets a chance to thank him before he's gone.

by the time he returns to your apartment it's late▰by two in the morning, or at least in gotham; all is quieter & yet not silently so. there is no point in knocking. he slips through the window, sliding in, again, moving silent as a phantom as he reaches the apartment's floor.

a view awaits to knock the air from his breath.

you sleep on the couch, all bundled up in that soft blanket. the tv hums away on the opposite side of the room, highlights light shadows on your face. on your lap lies a book open to one side, as though you had fallen asleep waiting for him to show up.

jason swallows, a warmth moving into his chest. his stomach▰no▰his entire soul feels warm.

he's gentle as he moves, settling beside you without waking you. his fingers brush against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. you stir slightly at the touch, murmuring his name in your sleep, & he bites back a soft curse, heart aching at how easily you trust him.

how easily you love him.

he never deserved someone like you.

yet, here you are.

by his side, as you call his name every now & then.

his eyes fall to the small bag in his hands, the necklace still inside. for a moment, he hesitates, deciding whether to give it to you now or wait until morning.

in the end, he puts it on the coffee table, placing it beside your book where you'll see it first thing when you wake up. a small note beside it, written in his messy handwriting.

"saw this & thought of you. sleep well, sweetheart."

he doesn't sign it. he doesn't need to.

you'll know.

jason settles back, his own exhaustion finally gaining the upper hand. he needs to get up, shower, take care of the bruises he's been pretending aren't an issue. but as you turn in your sleep, reaching instinctively for him, curling up closer to his side with a soft little sigh.

yeah.

he can spend a little while like this.

the clock on the wall ticks.

it's late.

too late.

you change positions on the couch, adjusting your blanket over your shoulders & looking at the clock once again. jason would have been back by now. you know not to worry. he has lived through worse nights, fought against deadly criminals, walked away from things that would kill another man. yet still, a sense of anxiety clings to you, curling inside your stomach like a knot that feels like it's squeezing your insides.

with a sigh, you again let your eyes fall back to the book in your lap, fingers tracing the worn edges of the pages. it's one of jason's, a novel he left on the shelf ages ago & never reclaimed. you aren't even really reading at this point▰just skimming, letting the words blur together while your mind focuses somewhere else.

to him.

to the little things he does that he thinks you don't notice.

like how he keeps your hair ties even though he swears he doesn't.

or how he always makes sure there's an extra blanket on your side of the bed.

or▰your favorite▰how he writes things in his books.

you found it by accident, months ago. a dog-eared page in one of his old novels, words scrawled in the margins in his distinctive, messy handwriting. you thought at first it was just notes▰random thoughts about the plot, maybe something important he wanted to remember. basically him annotating.

but then you read it.

"she was humming today, while she made tea. low, silent. i believe that was that tune she is very much so partial to, that one she uses every time she is styling her hair. she did not appear to have been aware, but i did. i always am."

you had almost dropped the book, your heart flopping in your chest.

since then, you've turned it into a silly game. you pretend you don't notice the tiny notes he scatters around, but secretly, you live for when you stumble on them.

you know there is one in this book. you haven't discovered it yet, but just the idea of it makes you giddy, titter softly & warmth rising like a volcano about to erupt.

he doesn't even realize you know.

it's so jason▰loving quietly, loving deeply, but never really saying it outright. he'll not say one word on being away for that patrol but have you notice some folded paper with the message tucked into his jacket pocket while out doing laundry. he will never tell you, outright say it to your face that you're pretty, but he would watch you style your hair with gazes soft & lingering.

what is he writing tonight?

(something romantic, obviously.)

if he's sat atop some height of gotham, breathing between fights, scribbling thoughts of you into some old notebook while the city, loud.

"i miss her."

"i wish i could bring her here once to see this view."

"do you think she'd be angry with me for taking her lip gloss again? nah. worth the risk."

you are smiling at the thought, worrying in your ribs.

he'll be home soon. he always comes home.

the television, rapid of brightness, a bright glow over the room. your eyes begin to feel more heavy, the weariness of waiting finally settling into your bones. you tell yourself you'll stay awake, just a little longer. just until you hear the familiar creak of the window, the soft thud of his boots against the floor.

you never make it that far.

sleep pulls you down, the book slipping slightly in your lap, the soft sounds of the city fading into nothing.

you don't know how long you've been out when you feel it.

a shift in the air. the presence of someone near.

it doesn't surprise you▰not in the way that it should. instead, your body relaxes instinctively, as if it knows before your mind is quite awake.

a warmth beside you. a familiar scent. leather, gunpowder, the faintest trace of something you.

you stir, barely conscious, mumbling his name before you can stop yourself.

"jay..?"

a pause. a sharp inhale. then, a hand▰warm, calloused, careful▰brushing against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

you sigh at the touch, sinking into it even as sleep tries to drag you back down.

there's such a long silence before he talks, his voice quieter than ever.

"yeah, sweetheart. it's me."

you want to wake up all the way now, want to sit up straight & fuss over him like you always do. ask if he's hurt; ask if he's eaten anything; ask if tonight was one of the bad ones. but this exhaustion is heavy, pulling you down like an anchor.

you are barely aware of the way he shifts beside you, settling, the weight of his presence grounding you even into sleep.

you hear nothing in the end except the soft sound of something landing on the table▰the clinking of metal and the faint scratch of paper across wood.

& jason's whisper, barely loud enough to hear.

"missed you."

the sunlight arrives▰uninvited▰through the curtains & warms your skin as you blink awake. the tv remains on, a late-night movie in reruns, hanging precariously in the corner of your head.

the book has shifted slightly, now perched on the edge of the couch.

oh, & your beloved jason is still here.

he's half-asleep beside you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other resting loosely against his stomach. he looks tired▰more than usual▰but there's a peace in his expression that makes your heart ache.

slowly, careful not to wake him, you stretch▰only to freeze when your eyes land on the coffee table.

a small bag. a delicate necklace, its crescent moon pendant catching the morning light.

& a note.

your breath catches as you reach for it, fingers ghosting over the familiar, messy handwriting. jason's messy handwriting.

"saw this & thought of you. sleep well, sweetheart."

a smile tugs at your lips, warmth once again spreading through your chest.

you glance at jason, still asleep, still him.

& then, giggling softly to yourself, you reach for the book in your lap, flipping through the pages.

there’s definitely another note hidden in here somewhere.

& you can’t wait to find it.

"she keeps looking at me like that. like i’m something worth holding onto."

"she touches me like i won’t shatter. like i won’t ruin everything the second she gets too close."

"i don’t know how to explain it. it’s in the way she speaks to me, the way she laughs, the way she reaches for my hand without thinking. she doesn’t hesitate. not with me. no one's ever done that before. no one except her."

"i think▰"

there’s a pause. the sentence breaks off, like he wasn’t sure he should continue. like the truth was something too heavy to write down.

& then, softer, almost like an afterthought:

"she's too good. too bright. too much like the kind of thing a man like me should never be allowed to have."

"but gods, i want to.”

if jason peter todd isn't a hopeless romantic, then what is he?

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[dollyhao]

lawyer!abby x client!reader (married to man but dude is barely mentioned, promise. fingering, tension, im not good at these lol, also don’t even know if this is good or not :/, let me know)

can you guys believe i couldn't find any buff women in suits...? maybe i wasn't looking hard enough...

when abby decided she wanted to be a lawyer, she thought she was gonna be some bad ass attorney that puts all the bad guys away. what she never expected was that she would end up dealing with messy divorces. but no complaining on her part; the pay is good and the mess is entertaining.

But when a woman with the bright smile on her face walks into her office she's intrigued, no one walks in here so happy. she stands up from behind her desk to shake your hand, "Good Afternoon, I'm Abby Anderson. It's nice to meet you."

your still smiling at her and you grab her hand, "It's nice to meet you; seems like your gonna be my saving grace." abby laughs and gestures for you to sit. "Would you like to start by telling me your situation?"

you hum and your smile slips a little, "ive been married for the last 7 years and i just wasn't happy anymore." you shrug a little. abby waits for you to continue but you don't so she hums. she can't help when her eyes trace over your features, you don't look like someone who was married for 7 years, you look so youthful and beautiful.

"no details?" abby gives you a teasing smirk as she looks at you. you giggle a little, "hmm, my ex-husband is a rich man who thought i was gonna cry and beg him to stay after i found out he cheated. but i didn't and asked for a divorce." abby hums writing some details down, "so what are you looking to get out of this?" abby puts her pen down, watching the way your lips lift into a smirk. "i want to take him for all he has."

abby smiles back at you standing and coming to stand in front of you, "i can see a blossoming relationship coming from this case," abby holds her hand out again to shake your hand. you smile and bite your lip before taking her hand and shaking it.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you and abby spend a good amount of time together settling things for a divorce settlement. you both have gotten so close, an unspoken connection has been building between the two of you; like abby's hand on the small of your back, coffee 'meetings' where you guys don't talk about the case at all, standing a little too close to each other and more unnecessary touches.

it all reached a boiling point when you and abby were sitting in her office after hours when abby pulls out some wine and glasses she keeps behind her desk, you should've left an hour ago but you and abby weren't ready to leave each other.

your sipping from you glass while you listen to abby talk about her college days. you kick your shoes off stretching your legs in-between you and abby on the couch you were lounging on. abby had her blazer off, shirt unbuttoned dangerously low and and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. she looked so good sitting there with her legs spread and her hair falling over her shoulders.

your thoughts are getting hazy when abby stops talking, since you haven't responded to anything she's said in the last 5 minutes. she looks over at you and bites her bottom lip gently. seeing the way the moon shines through her window and lights up your face, she wants you closer.

"are you alright?" she whispers scooting closer to you, picking up your legs and placing them in her lap. "mhmm," your eyes fix on the way abby's lip is still in between her teeth. "i could sit and listen to you all day," you match her tone, scooting closer to play with the ends of her hair.

"i could watch you all day." she mumbles putting her hand on the back of your neck leaning closer to you, bumping your noses together. you close the gap between the two of you, kissing her lips with all the tension that's been building for the last couple months. abby reciprocates with just as much passion; hand in your hair the other on your waist trying to get you closer. you push at her shoulders even though your lips chase hers.

you know you shouldn't do this, not now atleast. you pull away from her watching her as you catch your breath, her lips pink and swollen looking like they're ready to get back on you. "i should go..." you whisper.

abby looks into your eyes, "if that's what you want," you nod and pull your legs off her lap. she nods, "let me take you home." you nod again watching her grab her coat and keys. you stand and do the same walking out the building and to abby's car.

when she pulls in front of your house, she looks over at you waiting for you. you turn towards her, leaning over the console to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth then directly on her lips. "thank you." you tell her before getting out and walking to your front door.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

on the day your divorce was finalized and you successfully milked you husband dry of his money, you and abby were pure smiles and grins as you rode back to her office. abby said she wants to take you out to dinner tonight to celebrate and you agree, but all you can think about is thanking her for all she has done in so many different ways.

this woman who has been nothing but gentle and attentive to you since she's met you, has melted your heart in a way no one ever has. you want her in a way you never have your husband or anyone else. but you might be thinking too much into this; this might be nothing but two people who worked close together who are obviously attracted to one another.

when you entered her office, you walk over to her desk and lean against it. “i can’t believe you did it,” you say for the second time since you left your ex and his lawyer. abby comes to stand in front of you smiling, "i didn't do much, your husband and his idiot lawyer made it too easy." you stare into her eyes before your eyes flick down to her lips. "i want to thank you."

“you don’t need to do that.” she licks her lip, caging you in as she puts her hands on her desk. her breath fans over your face as you have to restrain yourself from leaning forward and kissing her.

abby turns you around pressing you against her desk, "you've been an angel throughout all this," she whispers in your ears, "i wanna thank you," she kisses the back of your neck. she pushes you down across her desk, untucking your blouse from your skirt and pushing it up to expose your bare back. you shiver at her cold hands as they run across your skin and jump when you feel her lips press a kiss to the base of your spine.

"abby, touch me please." you turn your head to look at her, unzipping your skirt and letting it fall to the ground. "what's the rush? i thought you were supposed to be thanking me," her eyes are locked on your lacy pink panties as her big hands grip your ass. "i-i am. i just want-" you whine and jump when her hand collides with your ass. "then be patient."

you nod as abby's thumb runs up and down the wet fabric covering your dripping cunt. you whine pushing back against her, she moves your panties to the side and slips two fingers into your tight walls, feeling you tighten immediately.

you moan, jaw slack, her name caught in your throat as she fucks you on her fingers. "now what do you say?" she reaches her hand to grab your hair in her grip pulling your body against hers. you brace your hands on her desk as you fuck yourself against her fingers.

"thank you! t-thank you," a long drawn out moan falls from your lips as she uses her fingers to scissor your pussy open. abby's breathing is getting heavy as she falls more and more into the intoxicating moment; the look on your face, the feeling of you wrapped around her, the sounds your making as your orgasm builds.

"i want you. i-i want to have you all to myself." abby whispers against your sweaty neck. you clench hard around abby as you moan out, "ah, yesss! yes please." you reach your hand to hold the arm thats hitting just the right spot, overstimulating you. your orgasm subsides and you lay back on her desk. "you good beautiful?" abby picks up your skirt, pulling you up and zipping your skirt back up then tucking your stained panties into her pocket. abby moves the hair out your face with a smile and you nod.

that ended up not being the last time you've fucked abby in her office, she's up and moved you in her house where she fucks you in the shower in the morning then makes breakfast for you after. and divorcing your husband continues to be the best decision you've made.

[khrystalsnow]

January 2025 FanFic✨

Welcome Everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted anything on Tumblr and for this year, I wanted to start posting more fanfic recommendations to share my love for the authors, instead of being in the shadows and for more people to enjoy them. I will try to post every month the fanfics that I've read (which hopefully I stick by 🤞🏼) but for January, I have mostly Jungkook fanfics so hopefully you enjoy the list and have found something you also love❤️

The majority of fics are 18+ so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Legend:

🦷-fluff

🔥-angst

🌶️-smut

👅-crack/funny

❣️-personal favourite

✍🏼-ongoing

JUNGKOOK

The Corporate Equation by @someonegoood 🦷🔥❣️✍🏼

-this is in a corporate setting with jungkook as the CEO and y/n as the head of HR. Grumpy x sunshine trope, but really cute because we get to see jungkook slowly but surely softening up to y/n no matter how hard they try to deny it🤭

Neighbor Blunder by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️✍🏼

-now listen to me, this is really good😭 I really love the dynamic between oc and Jungkook especially now with the new update👀 He's a gentleman, he doesn't beat around the bushes and sets his intentions straight to oc. I'm really excited about what happens next and will be lurking on AO3 for new updates because I cannot wait

ctrl+alt+delete by @muniimyg 🦷🔥🌶️👅

-obviously, I need to add in a social media au because they are really quick to read and this one is no exception. OC is an OF content creator and jungkook is a youtuber. Both of them are really funny and the interactions with their fans are really cute as well!

Playing the Part by @goldenchimmy 🌶️

-this was really good! it was such a nice build-up to the smut scene which is just perfection. Jungkook's such a gentleman and I need more of him please😭

True Love by @lovieku 🦷🔥🌶️

-this was really cute because OC's a simp for Jungkook and I would be too. It was also so heartwarming that they were able to find comfort within each other when OC would get panic attacks and show each other acts of love

The Love Prognosis by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️

-A fan favourite of course 🫶🏻 I related to this a lot (the unrequited love part😶) and just being there for the person you love even if they're not with you, but will ultimately hurt Jungkook in the process. highly recommend it if you haven't read this and the drabbles because they are also extremely fun to read!

Teach Me How To Love by @kookooluvr 🦷🔥🌶️✍🏼❣️

-Another fan favourite because it's just THAT good. everything's going good at the current update of them going to Jeju but I'm ready for the angst that's about to commence😭 Ultimately, I just want Jungkook to finally have his girl fr

The Farmhouse by @solecize 🦷🔥

-the plot was something different from the fics that I usually gravitate to in January. this is a friends to lovers, set in a small town where OC is restoring her grandpa's farm and she reunites with her childhood friend. I love every little aspect of this fic because it deals with grief, growing up, and love. I love the subtleness of Jungkook's love for OC in the beginning where he helps her out in the farm, but it slowly grows toward the end, this is just such a wholesome read!

YOONGI

Love & Lullabies by @ktownshizzle 🦷🔥🌶️

-DILF yoongi because it needs its own warninggg. this was also a really cute and heartwarming read. in every part I read, their love for each other just grows and grows. give this fic some love because you won't regret it!

NAMJOON

Empty Box by @moni-logues 🔥🌶️

-I had hope for the ending but alas this fic does not have a happy ending 🥹 this fic does contain infidelity which I would typically stay away from but I gave it a chance and wow. the writing is really beautiful and rich, you can feel the pain both Namjoon and OC go through throughout their journey which leaves you feeling like you've also gone through the waves of their relationship. The plot feels realistic which makes it 10 times more painful

SHORT FICS

satellite by @httpknjoon 🦷🔥

: Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.

Petals and Fists by @kissyforkoo 🦷🔥

: boxer!jk x florist!oc

[a3therc0r3]

Boiling Blood

co-creator: @dragonspoems

summary: you wrote poetry during your time on Philos in your and Sylus’ own language; the poems found their way onto Earth and are now highly sought after, working to be decoded and being sold in auctions for billions. When Sylus learns about the poems, he immediately knows who wrote them, recognizing their language instantly. He has now made it his goal to hunt down as many of these poems as he can while simultaneously searching for you. 

content: sylus x f!reader, angst, past-relationship, pre-relationship, poetry, spoilers for sylus' myth

word count: 2,261

a/n: this is my first ever time posting on tumblr so i hope you enjoy!! i have some more fics coming in the near future(fluff, i promise-) also HUGE thank you to my amazing friend and collaborator @dragonspoems who not only wrote the poem in this fic but also gave me the idea for this fic!! go show them some love! this fic was also posted on ao3

first part is from sylus' POV

Appearances can be deceiving. For example, on the outside, one may see a violent lion, while on the inside, there is simply a shaking kitten. On the outside, one may see a calm, collected, well-kept man who sips occasionally on the venue-provided wine; swirling it around his glass in boredom. On the inside, his mind is racing, his eyes scanning the crowd and glancing back down to the list of goods. His knee bouncing as each item is sold off in a painstakingly long manner. Couldn’t they just get to what was important? What everyone was truly here for? Of course they couldn’t, you have to save the best things for last. 

Sylus watched as other guests whispered to one another, sharing rumors about the ancient writing that everyone was anticipating. They would lazily raise their paddles to pass the time, betting on a much less interesting artifact. A protocore here, a painting there, all while mumbling to their friends about the bits of this writing that had been released to the public. Hushed voices muttering about the beauty, the romance of the words. His beloved’s words. His. No one else’s. They didn’t deserve to read her literature, didn’t deserve to even attempt to translate their language. They didn’t watch from far away when she scribbled in a notebook. They didn’t know how her hands would smell of ink when she touched his face. They didn’t know anything and they never should.

Sylus’ grip on the list had tightened unconsciously to the point that his nails pierced through the paper. It had practically crumpled in on itself, his chest heaving as thoughts spun out of control. The masked twins beside him glanced at one another before leaning in slightly and whispering, 

“Boss? Are you alright?”

Sylus snapped out of his haze, clearing his throat and taking another sip of wine. The twins righted themselves and nodded, knowing to leave well enough alone. They knew better than anyone in here that hell was about to break loose the minute the poem was brought out. There was a high probability that it would end in bloodshed, considering how important this was to their boss; then again, there was always a possibility things could end in bloodshed with Sylus. 

After what felt like hours of waiting, the auctioneer finally grinned and leaned toward the microphone, 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen is the product that I have a feeling the majority of you are here to see. The antique poem is thought to have been preserved all the way from Philos,” guests leaned forward, their interests piqued, “Very few of these pages have been found, and even fewer have been translated from their original language. However, from what we can tell, these poems seem to be the story of beauty, tragic romance, the tale literally as old as time.” The man chuckled to himself, resting his weight on his hands placed on the edges of the podium, “Your faces tell me that many of you are already interested. Since these are so rare, I expect that there will be quite the competition, though we must ask that you all maintain your composure. Now, let’s start the bidding at fifteen million.”

Paddles raised instantly, calling out higher numbers on top of each other. Sylus crossed his legs and let his head rest against the back of his booth, his fingers turning the paddle over in his hand. He’d let them have their fun, wait until the cost had gone up before chiming in. 

“Fifty million from one forty-three, do I hear sixty? Sixty million anyone?” 

Guests continue to holler out their bids, waving their paddles impatiently. The auctioneer spoke a million miles a minute, pointing to each guest as he acknowledged the prices. Sylus remained silent until the bids had risen into the hundred millions. 

“One hundred and seventy million from Mr. Abrams, we are getting up there, ladies and gentlemen, do I hear eighty?”

Sylus raised his paddle, “Two hundred million.” His voice boomed above the others, a few turning to look at the unfamiliar vote. 

“Two hundred million! From Mr…” the auctioneer moved to spot him through the sea of heads, taking the microphone with him, “Mr. Sylus! Such an honor to have you here, sir! Two hundred million from Mr. Sylus, do I hear two hundred and ten? Two-ten, anyone?” 

A paddle was raised. So, they wanted to keep fighting? Bold move. The bidding continued, raising to two hundred and thirty million before Sylus spoke once more.

“Three hundred million.” The auctioneer practically laughed, “Three- three hundred million from Mr. Sylus! Another decent raise! Do I hear three-ten?”

Another paddle raised, “Three-fifty million,” the voice chimed out.

“Three hundred and fifty from this fine lady! Do I hear-”

The man didn’t get the chance to finish before Sylus cut in, “Four hundred million.” The woman who had placed the previous bet, turned from her seat to glare at Sylus, earning a smirk in response. 

“Four hundred million! The heat is cranking up here! Do I hear four hundred and fifty million?” The man strolled to the edge of the auction block, grinning as he spoke.

A paddle raised.

“Four hundred and fifty million from Mr. Abrams! Do I hear five hundred?” At this rate, it would take an hour to get the poetry. All Sylus wanted was something to remember her by, anything from his past life to cling onto while he searched for his beloved. Something to keep him sane in the meantime. He’d indulged them for long enough and now his patience was wearing thin. Sylus raised his paddle once more.

“One billion.”

More guests turned their heads, whispering to themselves as to why the leader of Onychinus would want a piece of poetry so bad. The auctioneer clapped dramatically, trying to excite the room, even though he had asked for the opposite moments prior. “One billion! Now that is an offer of the century. It’s going to be hard to top that, folks.”

“One point two billion.” The man from earlier–Mr. Abrams–raised his paddle, eyeing Sylus as he did so. 

Oh, so that’s how you want to play. Sylus held his paddle up before the auctioneer could even point to Abrams, “One point five.”

“One point seven.”

“Two billion.”

“Three.” 

The auctioneer chuckled wearily to himself, “Gentlemen, please, wait a moment for me to-”

“Ten billion.” Sylus carefully put his gun on the table, pointing the barrel in Abrams as he crossed his arms. His right eye glowed with such intensity that it made Abrams shiver on the spot as if Sylus could kill him with a mere stare. He probably could. The twins unsheathed their weapons, a silent warning, and had the man closing his mouth before he could voice another offer. It was time to shut up. Mr. Abrams turned back to face the auctioneer, placing his paddle down with a hmph! His wife muttered something bitterly to him.

The auctioneer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “Ten billion from Mr. Sylus! Do I hear any higher offers? Anyone? Ten billion, going once, going twice? Sold to Mr. Sylus for ten billion! Congratulations, my good sir!” 

He continued moving on with the next item, but Sylus couldn't care less; he had gotten what he came here for. He rose, taking the last swig of his wine and placing his gun back into its holster. With a flick of his hand, the twins stepped back, allowing Sylus to walk towards the backstage area. A few guests stood to block his path, turning to him with pleading gazes.

“Mr. Sylus, surely I can offer you a much better deal to take the poem off your hands. I could even pay you back the ten billion you lost!” A man stepped forward, his hands clamped together as he spoke.

A woman beside him scoffed, “Please! You don’t even have half that amount,” she stepped towards Sylus, purposefully bumping her shoulder against the man’s before caressing the Onychinus leader’s arm, “I can give you money and a good time.” 

Sylus grimaced in disgust, pulling his arm away as another guest behind him chimed in, “I’ll give you my first-born daughter! A-and any valuables you want!” 

“I’ll give you my daughter and my wife!” a voice spoke from somewhere in the crowd, quickly followed by a slap and a woman yelling in a foreign language. 

The first woman tugged at his sleeve again, “Mr. Sylus, please! Just reconsider and I’ll make it worth your time!” 

Sylus pulled his arm away for a second time and glared at the crowd surrounding him, a red mist pushed through the mob, forcing them to make a path for him. “You’re all pathetic, you sit here and let people piss on you without even the courtesy of calling it rain,” he strode through the swarm of guests that were still whispering offers to him, the twins following close behind him. The auctioneer seemed to be frozen in awe, unsure of how to proceed with the event. When Sylus reached the curtain that separated the backstage from the rest of the room, he turned to his henchmen, “Make sure they don’t disturb us,” and with that, he disappeared behind the fabric. 

The auctioneer let out a nervous chuckle, “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats so we may continue with our schedule,” disappointed mumbles filling the silence as they complied. 

Behind the curtain, Sylus had been led to a private sitting room, where he awaited for the staff member to bring him his winnings. The flickering glow from the chandelier cast warmth through the room, hugging him in a mellow embrace. He crossed his legs, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpet. He could be wrong, the poem may not be what he thought they were. It could all be just a coincidence, every ounce of his past life was truly lost to a wind he would never feel again. Sylus grit his teeth and glared down at the rug, thoughts racing. 

A knock on the door interrupted his pondering, the woman that had escorted him stepped back into the room with a smile, “Your purchase, sir.” She handed him a leather binder with gloved hands and stepped back against the wall. 

He waved a dismissive hand at her. She bowed, seemingly disappointed, “We thank you for your appearance,” and with that, he was left alone. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, opening the binder with a shaky hand. A yellowed and faintly crinkled paper sat in a sheet protector. With careful fingers, Sylus pulled the paper from its film, rubbing his thumb over the familiar texture. He had recognized the handwriting immediately–it had been ingrained in his memory for as long as he could remember–the poem was exactly what he had hoped it was: one written by his beloved. Biting his lower lip, he read her scrawls, 

It’s been years, and yet I still couldn’t explain the ache, from what I was, my very essence. It was painful to contain it. 

It hurts so damn much, going through days knowing what fools I am surrounded by. They don’t know anything yet, born with silver spoons in their mouths, not a gem in their eyes. 

I wished to be like them. Ignorance is bliss to the things I’ve seen, letting them take more–all they think they need. 

Yet his voice, a devil’s call, to grow back my claws, to be the one he fell in love with, to be the one I am, the one I unforgivably was.

I knew that call. I knew that need–the need that claws inside of mine–to let the world be filled with traitors’ screams.

Killing what was mine, forcing my hands into the fire of unbeknownst burning in his chest. 

I hated him, loathed him for it, for he knew who I was–a beast, a creature within that wanted their blood, wanted to dance on their graves for all the wrongs they have done. 

Something in my mind telling me he was, he is mine, and mine alone. He belongs. I belong to no one but us, and the spirits of our own, souls of the same kind.

They banished and looked away, laughed and smiled, celebrated the unbecoming of something that was mine and mine alone. 

Soon enough they will know. They will find what they have done, through my everlasting boiling blood. 

I cannot blame him for what he did, for it is as well the doing of mine.

Sylus stared at the paper, biting his lip harder, blinking rapidly to banish the tears threatening to spill. He took another breath, cleared his throat, and looked down at the initials that sat at the bottom of the page. Your initials. Because it was always you, and it will only ever be. The only one he would spend billions on to read a few lines of poetry. 

Sylus gripped the paper tighter as if it would disintegrate in his very fingers, the same way he once had, lifetimes ago on another world. He gazed up into the flickering light of the chandelier; his mind had been made up the moment the fragments of his soul had blown through that breeze so long ago. He was going to find you, no matter how long it took. He would wait centuries, traverse hellscapes, die as many times as he needed to, to find his way back into the arms of his beloved.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

[leiatalon]

The turning point of The Eternal Library…

The Eternal Library is waiting…

Your MC's soul is about to be forged. This makes you stronger, wiser, and infinitely more capable. On the same night, events unfold that will change the fate of the kingdom forever. Are you ready?

I'm thrilled to announce that chapter four is now available for Patreon subscribers! The Patreon demo is now over 95,000 words long. This new chapter of The Eternal Library has more drama and action than the first three chapters combined!

Chapter four is 30,000 words and is the turning point for the story, full of action and plot twists and danger. It starts with a visit to the Eternal Library and only gets more intense from there.

Everything up until now has been setting the stage for what happens in chapter four. The first part of the story is important, establishing relationships and fleshing out the MC’s personality, but chapter four is where everything changes for the kingdom of Minare and so much more is revealed!

This addition to the demo will be released in a month for the public. For those of you who love the story and have the funds to support me via Patreon, I appreciate it so much! Your support helps me take care of my family in a world that gets increasingly more expensive, and rewards me as an artist for writing the story of my heart. I post a lot of fabulous content for subscribers, and I also do free posts from time to time, so be sure to sign up as a free member even if a paid subscription isn't in the cards right now!

Thank you for the lovely asks and for sharing my posts so more people discover The Eternal Library! This means the world to me!!! I hope you can feel my gratitude! Your interest in this story helps me keep going. I hope you enjoy the update! 💞👑💞

[osamucide]

⊹ THE FIRST TASTE

LET IT BEGIN, HEAVEN CANNOT WAIT FOREVER . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: ~3.6k

cw: NSFW CONTENT—MDNI (I BLOCK AGELESS+BLANK BLOGS), ada+masc!reader, reader has a tongue piercing, pet names (pretty boy and cutie for u), romantic and sexual tension, established flirtationship->new relationship?, a lil alcohol, making out, oral fixation/finger sucking, oral sex (Dazai receiving), cum eating (Dazai lol), patheticzai makes a spectacle of your shyness even though he can't just ask for what he wants good thing u have telepathy with him /j

reid: trade w my sweet friend @rossithepixie / @selfindulgentpixies who masterminded some beautiful osareid art for me <3 (if u havent seen it yet dw i will be reblogging it a million more times but also check out rossi's work neow cause he's super talented). thank you for trusting me with this rossi—it was such a blast to do a little lovesick dazai desperately chasing ur cute lil self into a corner (i listened to fiona apple's song with the same title a lot while i wrote this—is it obvious? lol). i hope u enjoy so much <3

It’s a cute little habit of yours. Unconscious, he knows, but that makes it no less cute. No less dangerous. 

Everyone notices you do it—Atsushi pointed out the jewelry poking from your mouth with awe when he first caught you fidgeting with it (“People can have piercings there? That’s so cool”)—but Osamu highly doubts anyone finds it nearly as charming, as endearing as he himself does. After all, he’s the one consistently wheeling over next to you on his chair to fold his arms under his chin on your desk and admire you unashamedly while you tie a loose end around a sentence in whatever report you’re writing before even thinking about turning your attention to him. 

So diligent. 

That’s another cute thing about you. You've been a star worker, really, since you started. In the months since you got hired, your reports have been nothing but thorough and on time; even your first steps into fieldwork as a detective have been spotless, practiced, as if you already know this work like the back of your hand. You’re personable yet serious, easygoing and dedicated all at the same time, continually proving your worth as a voice of reason and contribution around the meeting table as well as a supportive, kind, all-around more than pleasant coworker on and off of crime scenes. Not to mention, your ability’s nothing to scoff at.

You’re a true asset to the Armed Detective Agency. 

Which is why Kunikida’s glaring Osamu down again, threatening him silently with an HR department that unfortunately doesn’t exist—because, yes, you are for all intents and purposes perfect for this workplace and the blond man will simply not have you driven off by his partner’s insufferable tendencies. 

Even Kunikida’s wrath, however, is scarcely known to deter Osamu Dazai, and that is why, when he notices you doing it again—toying with the metal bar through your tongue in an absentminded display of your oh-so-coveted concentration on and application to your task, he scoots himself right over, rowing on his heels, brushing admonishing stares like he might dust off his shoulder and settling next to you, chin in his palm, feet knocking into yours beneath your desk. 

As expected, you don’t turn to him immediately. All the better. Gives him a few seconds more to admire you, your parted lips, the glint of the metal and your pretty teeth against the natural light streaming into the office on this lovely day, made all the lovelier by the vision of your adorable expression.

But when you do, it’s melt-worthy. 

“Hi, Osamu,” you mumble, turning your eyes to him and tucking your tongue back in to offer him that sweet but aware, workplace-appropriate smile that makes him grin even further. You’d have to be naive not to know he wants to strip you of that professionalism, but you make sure to give him time of day in only the most graceful way when you’re both at the office; for as charming as he is, and for as much as you must shyly admit you find him endearing just the same, you don’t turn a blind eye to his cunning nature. 

And like so many things, it’s a bit of a game that he enjoys—seeing what he can do to crack that competence of yours. 

But today he’s restless, so he punches low from the jump. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” he purrs, gaze searing into you. Signature. 

And just like he hopes, your brow raises and you look away, pursing your lips to mask your reaction to his antics. He usually toys with you a little longer before he brandishes the pet name he knows all too well gets your cheeks glowing pink in an instant—and that’s exactly what they do. Your coyness can’t hide that. 

“Eager today, are we?” you fill the silence with the lighthearted accusation, busying yourself on your keyboard so as to fight off the squirming you’re sensing will be futile to escape this afternoon.

“Yup.” When he pops the p, he nudges your ankle with his own. 

But in your busying, the tip of your tongue flicks out again, and Osamu’s seemingly-aimless display of fluster-inducing attention surges toward its goal, which he’s been contemplating for a few days now, actually: getting you out of this stuffy office (or the all-too public nearby bar you’ve started frequenting with him after hours, strictly as friends it seems—if friends tangle their fingers together after a few cocktails and then don’t make mention of it the next day, anyway) and into his dorm, which he actually tidied up because he calculated with most near-certainty there couldn’t possibly exist a world in which you’d turn down such an invitation. So he hopes, anyway. For as player as he acts, the way you make him feel sows seeds of doubt in him and his usual methods of seduction. You know full well how sincerely captivated he is by you… right? You must. You have to. 

“You know,” he continues, “I was wondering…” 

Mincing his words is never part of his plans. Unless, of course, it’ll draw a desired outcome closer than being direct will. But now, Osamu finds himself almost hesitating, with no prior inclination to do so; he’s wondering, not thinking, like he seems to do so much when you’re near him, and he doesn't know if you fully realize it, but you might have more control over… whatever this is between you than he does.

You tilt your head, still turned to your screen, as if it begins to occur to you. 

“...Drinks at my place?” he spits out—pointedly dropping the “double suicide?” intonation so it’s clear he’s serious—before he can give any more indication that he’s slipping.

When you look to him again, Osamu’s filled the space of his doubt with that low-lidded grin once more.

“Tonight?” 

“Tonight? Oh—” You clear your throat in a way that sounds oddly affirmative, as if you’re trying to keep it from bubbling out too soon. You’re so assured in everything else you do around here, so Osamu, ever the contrarian, regains his balance on the premise of your shyness. When you go to confirm, you’ve all but lost your teasing lilt. The flush on your face doesn’t miss him. “Yeah, that’d be nice, Osamu.” 

Nice. If he didn’t have an image to upkeep, he’d leap up and fistpump the air like a cartoon character. Perhaps, if he were more in tune with his hand-to-god emotions, he’d crumble to the floor in a ball wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t clean his dorm, much less invite romantic prospects over to it. You’re new territory in the way he feels freshly determined not to mess up, so he keeps himself composed behind that smile. “When are you out of here?” 

“I can be out of here whenever you’re out of here,” you mumble, your lips pressed into a smirk you won’t let unfurl fully. He wishes you would. He’ll get you to. If he had it his way, he’d whisk you out of here now, clock be damned, and pop open that red dessert wine he picked up specifically for the event in which you would land on his uncomfortable little couch with your tongue lingering in, hopefully, closer proximity to his own. He’s seen you tipsy; you don’t suppress that air of sheepish enthrallment so much when you are, and he’s impatient for it. He needs more of you.

But it’s three in the afternoon, and Kunikida’s abruptly dragging Osamu by the collar of his shirt like a puppy on a leash to roll him back over to his own damn desk, muttering something about how if he had any decency he’d leave you the hell alone and if he wasn’t going to contribute anything of worth to the Agency’s productivity yield, the least he could do was not disturb those who are. 

This makes you chuckle fully as you shake your head. Osamu eats it up—and he doesn’t hide it, eyeing you with something most akin to yearning in his gaze. You have such an effortless knack for putting hearts in his eyes in a way he’s not used to. 

The rest of his shift dawdles by; as a way to pass the time, Osamu volunteers himself to run out and pick up the Thai takeout for those who will be clocking out later than he hopes he will. Kunikida so graciously (read: reluctantly and irritatedly) let him order on his card, so he claimed it as repayment; really, he needed to get out of his desk chair. 

He feels insane watching you play with that piercing of yours, his stack of unfinished reports (or, pre-construction paper planes) serving as no distraction. 

He delivers your spring rolls to you with a wink. He eats his pad thai and fools around on his desktop. He watches the sun streak down the window.

He actually considers getting some work done. It’s nearly torture.

He gets up to leave the second the clock strikes eight. If he was bad at focusing on work before, you’ve ruined him. 

The implication’s all too clear when you’re stepping into the evening air behind him. You don’t mind—it’s evident in your reserved but knowing smile, the one he so terribly wants to unravel. 

His place is threadbare, but cozy. You curl yourself up on one of the two couch cushions while Osamu sets two empty glasses and a bottle on the low table before you—he’s eager, too, for the wine; he’s aching to dispel both your timidity and his anxiety that it feeds. Maybe it’s just that he can’t seem to handle himself positively spiraling over you while you remain enchantingly reticent, quiet in the desire he knows flows between you both. Usually, he’s the one with all the self-control. Tonight he’s counting on you missing the tremble in his fingers as he pours. 

“Kunikida’s such a hardass, isn’t he?” he muses while he tucks a glass into your hand and draws himself up onto the couch, facing you, leaving a respectful but still considerably involved distance between you. Your knee almost touches his. “Berating me for something as little as asking such a cutie to come over for drinks. It’d be more criminal not to, I think.” 

You chuckle at his dramatics, taking a sip. It’s sweet, red. You remind him, “We are coworkers, Osamu.” 

He cocks his head, drinking deeper than you do, with a thoughtful look on his gorgeous face. He hums and reminds you, “We’re not just coworkers.” 

Your chuckle becomes a giggle—one less dubious than the short, amused headshakes you save for the office—and with your next question, he knows he’s pulling you in. You’ve been dancing around each other long enough; he’s warm, trying not to overflow when you speak—you finally sound ready to acknowledge what’s been turning him into a mess for you when you hum and press skittishly. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

“What else are we then, hm?” 

Your bashfulness reads so seamlessly as effortless wooing—he wonders if you’re so purely humble, or actually a mastermind of coquetry. The way you keep yourself veiled, thinly enough to keep him pining for more of you but staunchly too so that he constantly doubts whether the cat or the mouse has the upper hand, turns him to mush—absolute pathetic mush—and he answers a question with a question. You’ve got him going against all sorts of personal philosophy. 

“What else do you wanna be?” 

The answer gets lost between shifting hands, closing space, conversation and jokes that relax further and further as you both stabilize into one another over the following hour or so. A couple more glasses of wine are poured, drank, tasted—at some point in the blackening night you end up astride his lap in the dim lamplight with your glass in triumphant hand, tucking his hair behind his ear while he cups your face, simpers out another remark that makes you blush and wave him away; Osamu looks at you with something you can only construe through your buzz as pure want. Coming down from laughter that screws your eyes shut—he’s never short on humor, which is one of the things you think you love—love? about him, you say it aloud, tell him you do in fact love that about him and if he was all pure want a moment before, now he’s pure shock. 

But he plays it off in his way; you watch the intricate way he takes no more than a half-second to collect himself, just tipsy enough to get snagged on the words love that about you that the half-second seems a feature-length film to you—one you would watch over, over, over again. 

Osamu slides four fingers on one side of your jaw, thumb on the other—holding your chin gently but firmly in place so he can bore like fire into you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, half sincere, half flirtatious. Your gaze scatters momentarily beneath his; you take a second, copy his recovery.  

You hesitate before you say, “I think I have some idea,” fully sincere, fully flirtatious. When you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth—not an unconscious habit but an intentional move in this game—he thinks this is what middle school boys must feel like the first time they get close to their crush. It sickens him so sweetly, like he’s swallowed a lump of sugar. He wants more. 

Your breath coils around his between your noses, between your mouths. The wine in your glass sloshes and settles.  

“Can I tell you what drives me crazy?” he breathes. 

You nod like you’ve been waiting lifetimes to know. 

He answers not with words but a touch to your lip—a stroke back and forth that leaves you parting for him. He leaves feather-light fingerprints on the sharp of your front teeth, pushing, slowly, forward until the hot muscle in your mouth cradles his thumb and he’s touching that devil-sent piercing of yours, the ball all at once cool and warm as it twirls to evade him.

“This,” he whispers, chasing the metal back and forth. “This drives me crazy.” 

You don’t respond with anything but suction, a soft bob of your head like you understand, and a hmm.

Osamu thinks he might implode beneath you. 

His attention has hardly ever felt so streamlined as when you search his face, circle his thumb, wet it for him to retract and drag down your chin while you draw your brow together like you miss it—his eyes are all yours, wide and waiting and holding the answers to all the questions drifting around, surrounding both of you. 

The kiss is searing as he pulls you into him—or, hardly has to, rather, as your eyes flutter shut and you lean to meet him, five of your fingers matching his grip but on his shoulder while you suffocate that mingled breath so it becomes mingled spit, mingled tongues. He worms himself past your lips, into you—he almost moans when the tip of his own tongue brushes across the jewelry sitting on the pad of your tongue like a pearl in an oyster. He’s finally cracking you open. It makes him smile wickedly into you. 

Your arms locking around his neck leave him rolling into you hotly, asking for you with anything but words which escape him again now—so uncharacteristic, but he’s lucky you’re both too entangled to notice, for words aren’t necessary right now; he’s ushering your wine glass out of your hand, setting his, too, onto the table so you can wind your fingers in his hair and tug, prompting the sweetest gasps that you echo back into him while he guides your hips across him. The fervor either of you holds is indistinguishable from the other; you grind, he grips you, the harder he grips you the harder you grind and vice versa until he’s biting down the column of your neck toward absolution. 

He mutters your name through an umph; you pick his lips back up the second he goes for air, and he goes for your tongue. When you pull back to observe him, mirroring you in kiss-puffiness and staccato breath, he’s wild between your eyes and your lips. 

“That’s all for you,” he tells you when he grabs your wrist and guides you to palm his cock before you hit him with another question for the ages—one that will not receive a verbal answer but a noise from his throat he swears he’s never heard himself make before.

“Wanna feel it?” 

God, has he ever wanted anything more in his life? The erection he’s built up just from kissing you, moving you against him, is all the evidence either of you need. 

Regardless, Osamu’s nodding fervently, chocolate locks swaying. 

So, you take your turn kissing down him until you’re pooled at his feet, between his knees, with devoted fingers undoing the button on his pants; the task at hand, so sweetly and circularly, has your tongue poking out in concentration as you work his waistband down. Osamu twitches at the sight—he doesn’t mean to mutter you’re so fucking adorable but he does, he does. It’s your turn to grin wickedly as you take his cock out, your turn to tease with your thumb on his drooling tip, your turn to explore with your mouth. 

You’ve had the reins all this time, really—from the first day you sat at your desk, making that attentive face. He must be the luckiest sucker in the world to have ended up here, with your shining eyes watching him fall apart as your honeyed lips guide him toward sweet devastation. 

The first stripe you lick up his underside sends Osamu’s head flying back, jaw falling slack on the end of a breathy “fuck!”

And he feels every stride of your tongue piercing when you wrap your lips around his tip and swirl. 

The sounds you draw from Osamu’s open mouth are like song; diligent in this task as you are every other one, it’s hardly a minute before he’s tangling his fingers in your hair, crooning your name between broken praises that come naturally as you hold him, lick him, look up at him with eyes that he thinks could turn him to stone—if only you had been evil, that is, but realistically, you can’t be anything other than an angel. 

“Pretty boy, you—” 

At that name, you groan. Take him further. 

And through how good it feels, he laughs. 

“Oh, you like that? Huh?” He could pull you off him if he wanted a response, but you’re too heavenly to interrupt—anyway, he already knows how you feel about pretty boy. 

You hum around him—another sensation that sends him reeling with oh, god on his lips. 

“That’s it… Feels s’good on me. Unh—yeah, like that…” 

Indirectivity and grandeur has always been something Osamu considers himself a professional in—everything you do throws him for a loop and the way you bob up and down does him no favors. He whines in the way he does when he’s already going to finish all too quickly, but the fact that it’s you bringing him to his end—his cute coworker he’s been pining after since your first day on the job, the one that’s inspired such foreign feelings of wonder in his long-gone-cold heart—has him unreservedly bucking his hips into your mouth as you rake your nails down his thighs, ardent in this undertaking, bobbing frantically like all you’ve ever wanted was to have him noisy and messy underneath you like this. 

“‘m gonna—oh, fuck!” 

But he doesn’t have to tell you; you feel him, spasming on your tongue against the otherworldly friction your jewelry provides—his true downfall, that thing, and the image of you formed around it—you pursue his climax like a predator pursuing prey, pulling away to give him that false sense of security as you rise to your feet, pounce back over him and kiss him so intensely while you handle him, jerk him to orgasm between your bodies; Osamu’s hoarse, aching as he humps the hole you make with your fist and chants yes, yes, yes, please! into your mouth, tasting metal, never wanting it to leave.

He settles into soft panting as you draw your fingers up; he’s beginning to speak— “You’re so—” but you’re cutting him off so he can suck your fingers, taste himself and the way you’ve shattered him so beautifully. And he does, he laps like a man possessed, obsessed with the flavor of himself if only it’s leaving your skin, before you let him continue. “You’re incredible. You and that piercing.” 

You huff out a laugh, but it’s true. He’s convinced you’re a dream in every sense of the word—how did he get so lucky, no—how did the earth get so lucky to have you dropped upon it, right here in Yokohama, doing such scandalous things with that godly mouth of yours? 

“I try,” you quip with a half-shrug, smiling softly, kissing him just so. 

“Do you, now?” Osamu Dazai, who so often loses those good things before he can really grasp them, takes note of another new sensation—unwavering resolve, in the amorous sense—and concludes that if he can help it, this dream will not slip away so quickly. He can’t possibly send you back up to heaven.

He grabs your hips, pulls you onto him. 

Everything you are—all hard working, handsome face, sweet disposition, and tongue ring—he’s wanted it for so long; it would be nonsensical, a tragedy, to let the same evening air you stumbled in on steal you away again.

This is a dilemma he doesn’t have a solution to; not immediately. 

But he speaks anyway, smirking and toying with the button on your pants, overwhelming your frame to put your back to the cushions—turn you into a mess for him.

“Your turn, pretty boy.” 

[parkersbliss]

Okay after the last request I am official kinda obsessed with the American! reader one shots! I was wondering if you could one where the boys learn that reader knew Graves somehow from back home? Like they find pictures of them together and reader is like “Oh that’s my ex!/friend” and we see the boys reaction? I love your writings sm!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

babe I am SO sorry for the wait. college was kicking my ass. but like oh my god I love this request. I love it so much I wrote 2,000 words! thank you so much!! xx

TO THE GRAVE(S)

PAIRING: task force 141 x female!american!reader WARNINGS: phillip graves, implied ex relationship with ghost / price, mentions of death and violence, frat boy graves thoughts A/N: I got SO carried away with some of the au's of reader and graves. sorry gang he's my baby girl

Masterlist | Taglist | Requesting (open for cod!)

Gaz:

The space you shared with Gaz was empty, to say the least. You had recently moved in, so it made sense. You couldn’t stand it. You had been sitting for hours with your boyfriend on the couch, ordering various pieces of furniture. You were lucky you even had a bed. 

Thus was the process of moving in, especially with a sergeant who had to try and time it for when he was home. You wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. 

Sure, the space was blank, a few things from your previous place, but nothing that screamed The Garrick’s (or soon to be). 

This leads you to sit on the couch you took from Kyle’s, box in your hand as you search for some photos to frame and hang up. Something to signify people lived here. 

Kyle is sitting next to you, arm slung over your shoulder as he continues browsing for furniture. He listens to you talk when you find a photo that triggers a memory, loving the excited gleam in your eye as you talk about your high school days. 

That was until you pulled out a certain photo. 

He nearly does a double take as you hold it up, head tilting to the side as you examine it. “Who’s that?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible. You could hear the strain in his voice though and raise a brow. You turn back to the photo of you and Phillip side by side, leaning against each other and flashing a four on your fingers like some frat boys. 

“Phillip,” You said. “He was a good friend.” 

“Was he?” Kyle snorts, unable to hide the obvious disdain for the man. How dare someone as vile, putrid, and untrustworthy as he ever lay hands on his girl. You, his sweet, beautiful girlfriend. 

You roll your eyes, setting the photo on the table. “He was just a friend, babe. Seriously. I only knew him because I was sophomore class president, and he was senior.”

Kyle grabs the photo from the table. “You look a little more than friends.”

“I have actual exes, you know.” 

“None as bad as him.” 

You furrow your brows, plucking the photo from his hands. “You don’t even know him. He was smart, funny, charis—” 

“Okay!” Kyle huffs, cutting you off and you blink in surprise. He was never this harsh with you, and certainly not over things in the past. 

“What is this about?” 

Kyle sighs, leaning back on the sofa with crossed arms. He tried to keep you out of his work life. Hidden away in your flat in London, a quiet corner of the world where he was Kyle and not Gaz. Knowing Graves had experienced some semblance of the peace you brought irked him. It shouldn’t bother him, because, like you said, it was a while ago. Still, the burn from his betrayal is charred. 

“You remember that day I called you panicking over Soap and Ghost?” He asked. “They were in Mexico.” 

“Yeah.” 

“They were being hunted by an opposing military team,” He starts, gently grabbing your hand. “Shadow company.” He can see the confusion in your eyes. The wariness as you’re unsure where he’s going with this. “Graves runs that company.” 

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You weren’t really attached to him. Again, just class presidency stuff. You would’ve probably never thought about him again if you hadn’t seen the photo. “You know,” You finally said, voice bouncing off the empty walls. “I always did think he was a little power crazy.” 

Kyle nearly cries in relief, grabbing you in his arms as he buries his face in your neck, and you giggle. “You have no idea.” 

Ghost:

Simon prided himself on being a good partner to you. His entire existence was tethered to you and the smile on your face. He did his best to make sure it stayed there. He was always gentle with you when he was upset, never yelling. There was a certain softness you brought out in him, and he adored it. Now, Simon was still a jealous man. He hated to see others looking at you with nothing but lust in their eyes. But when you would turn around to face him, eyes brimming with love only for him, it didn’t matter. 

Except for this time. 

You’re lying in bed with him, flipping through your yearbook from high school. Your friend had texted you earlier in the day about how one of your old friends had just had a baby with someone you least expected. Thus prompting you to scour the yearbook for this “guy.” And then you just fell down the rabbit hole of past memories. 

You’re tucked into Simon’s side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and head leaning against yours as you point out various pictures. 

His breath halts when your finger traces over a certain one, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He would recognize the face of Graves anywhere. Even if it was your yearbook from a youth spent in the South. What are the odds? 

Simon’s free hand balls into a fist as he takes in the photo and its implications. Graves is in a football uniform, giant 01 on his jersey. He’s younger, with no stubble or scar on his cheek but otherwise the same cocky smile. The same one Simon had mistaken as friendship and later realized it was all deception. Grave’s has got you sitting on his shoulder, bright smile and arm raised with a pom-pom as you cheer. 

“That’s Phillip,” You said. Of course, when you talked about your ex Phillip, you meant that Phillip. 

Simon clicks his tongue in response, voice gruff. “You look happy.” 

You sigh, moving the yearbook to rest on the bed. “I was.” 

Simon’s calm on the outside, but truly, he was a tea kettle boiling over. Every glance at that damned photo sent him a little more towards the edge. He had wanted to throttle Graves not so long ago, and now? It was worse knowing he was that Phillip. The ex that left you torn apart. 

“He was good for a while,” You admit. “It was all rainbows and unicorns. He was the kind of player that runs up and kisses you after a touchdown.” Simon’s lip twitches. “Then he left for the Marines, and he was never the same.” You lean more into Simon, unaware of the rage churning inside him. “I think the war changed him, Si. He was so angry after and I realized he just wasn’t the same.” 

Should he tell you? The man that broke your heart was, in fact, also his enemy? That they’d come face to face, and Soap had killed him? That war had changed Phillip into a power-crazy, lap dog, sociopath? 

“I just hope wherever he is now, he’s okay.”

Well, that settles it. Simon watches as you close your yearbook, still frowning, and he knows telling you would be worse. 

“I’m sure he is,” Simon said, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m sure he got everything he ever wanted.” There’s a double meaning there, but you don’t catch it. You have no idea that your ex has been presumed dead. Ironically, Simon doesn’t know he’s alive. 

You kiss your boyfriend on the cheek. “I’m always so grateful you come from deployment the same. You’re too good to me.” 

That’s simply not true. Simon could always be a better man — for you. His hand cups your face, and he places a kiss on your lips. 

Soap:

Johnny’s hands shake as he holds his phone. There was no way, no fucking way he was seeing this right. He’d been putting off a visit to the eye doctor for a while, but it couldn’t be this bad. He must be imagining things. Otherwise, how else do you explain that his girlfriend is clearly posing in a photo with his mortal enemy? 

He had lost it. The head injuries had finally caught up with him. 

He repeats that like a mantra even after he zooms in and out on the Instagram post and stalks your best friend's page for clues. 

Cue Johnny’s with about an inch of space between his sight and the phone when you walk in. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, and you’re leaning against the doorframe, brow raised. “Whatcha got there, bubs?” 

Johnny’s head snaps in your direction, phone slamming down on the table. “What?” His accent is thick. 

“What’s on your phone?” You walk over towards him, plucking the device out of his hand and examining the photo of you, your best friend, and Phillip. It must be some school event because all three of you are in blue tutus, green and blue face paint, and more accessories of the same color. “Oh my god,” You laugh. “I haven’t seen this photo in years.” 

Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why—,” He coughs. “What is it?” 

“It was our homecoming game,” You said, still looking over the photo fondly. “The student section where we stood had like leaders that would direct chants and stuff. Phillip was one, and this was his last game doing it so we went all out.”

You said it so casually. The name of the man who had put his head on a bounty. He wasn’t mad at you, of course. Clearly, this was a time before the present Graves. Still, the coincidence — the idea — irked him. He never told you about Mexico. Johnny didn’t want to worry you about it. Besides, when he was home, he’d rather listen to you talk about happier things. And Graves was dead now. 

“Haven’t seen him in years, though. He’s some CEO now of a private company. Jenna doesn’t really talk to him much anymore. Says he’s like really busy.” 

“Jenna?” Johnny questioned, referring to your best friend. “She’s still… in contact?” 

You give him a funny look, setting the phone down on the table. “Yeah? It’s her brother, after all.”

Johnny’s eyes doubled in size, spluttering. “What? That’s Jenna’s brother?” He was aware your best friend had a brother, older, a good friend of yours. But he never gave it much thought than that. She was married, so her last name had changed. If that was the case… she couldn’t be in contact with him. He was dead. Johnny would know. He killed him. “Bloody fucking hell, babe,” Johnny mumbles. 

“What’s going on?”

Johnny shakes his head. “She doesn’t know what he does?” 

“I don’t know! He doesn’t talk about his work. Who cares?”

Your boyfriend grabs your hands, pulling you into the seat across from him. “When was the last time she talked to him?” 

“What is happening?” 

“Love.” 

You’ve never seen your boyfriend look so panicked. Sweat was beading on his forehead, hands shaking in yours, and his accent much harder to understand. “The holidays.” 

“Fuck!” He drops your hands, standing up and running a hand through his mohawk. He wasn’t dead. 

“Can you just tell—” 

“Phillip Graves owns a private military company that tried to kill me in Mexico.” 

Silence as you stand there dumbfounded. Your best friend's brother was… he was bad. 

You eventually approach your boyfriend, grabbing the hand that was running through his hair. “I didn’t know.” 

Johnny embraces you tightly, pushing your head into his chest. “I’m not mad at you, love. Just got some unfinished business now.” 

He kisses your forehead, swaying you side to side, a plan forming deep in his cortex. One to kill him once and for all. 

Price:

There was a reason John Price was called a captain. He was a natural leader, someone who commanded the attention of those around him. Still, that wasn’t enough to warrant running his own team. To be responsible for others' lives took more skills. He was a good decision-maker under pressure. He could control his emotions better than others. He wasn’t rash when it came to the lives of others. That’s what made him a good leader. 

It’s also what made him a great husband. He was a gentle giant with you. Every decision you make, from the color of the walls to the couch in your living room, was made with thorough consideration. 

It’s what you loved most about John. Being around him made you calm. You can't even think about a moment in your relationship when you’d seen him harsh and yelling.

You were both sitting on the couch, some sports game playing on the TV in the back. You’re leaning against him, flipping through a photo book. You had gotten a few prints back from your wedding photographer and had filled them into your wedding book and then got distracted but the others. You and John were sentimental people, and you took it upon yourself to create memory books to show your kids one day. 

John hadn’t really seen yours since they ended up getting made by you and stuck on a shelf. So, here you were, lecturing him on all the years of your life he hasn’t been present. Truthfully, he knew most of the stories, but he enjoyed listening to you talk and the small facts you’d sneak in. 

“And then we lost this meet horribly. I think Layla got injured and went out.” You flip the page, various photos of you and your teammates on the mat. 

John hums, leaning over you to look at the photos. “That must suck.” 

You shake your head. “Depends if you got the cute athletic trainee that day or not. I think a lot of girls faked injuries to see him.” 

Your husband laughs, a deep rumble you feel next to him. “You got a picture?” 

You flip through a couple pages until you find him. You snort at the photo. You’re sat on the floor of the gym, leg extended and bandaged from whatever injury you had sustained. A young boy is next to you, kneeling with his arms wrapped around your upper half and leaning his head against yours. John’s brow twitches slightly as he sees the widesmile on your face, and small hands clasping the arm of your… ex. 

What’s even more concerning is the recognition brewing in the back of his head. He uses a hand to gesture for you to hand him the book. You do, and he holds it up to his eyes, scanning for why this guy was so familiar. Ashy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and a grin that he wants to wipe off. It’s only when he catches a glimpse of the name on the upper corner of his jacket does it hits him. 

“Graves.” 

“How’d you know his name?” You asked with surprise. 

“Saw it on the jacket,” John answered with ease. His fingers itch to rip the photo to shreds. 

You hum, sliding the book back from him. “He was really popular. Took the athletic training class for fun his senior year and then had to do the internships at games.” 

John huffs. “You dated?” 

You shrug, offering no real sort of attachment to him. “Sort of. Was more like a few weeks, couple games, Valentine’s Day.” 

“Seems like a good lad.” 

“I guess. There was something kind of off about him, though. But everyone at school loved him.” 

John quirks a brow at that, pressing his head to yours as he glances at the photo again. “What do you think he’s up to now?”

You tap your chin in thought, pushing the book to the side. “Probably some power-crazy CEO.” 

John laughs, threading a hand through your hair. If only you knew. He wouldn’t tell you. He saw you didn’t really care for him. Probably hasn’t thought about him in years. Your husband plans to do the same. “I bet he is.” 

--

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[nanamis-princess]

Giving them Valentine’s Day chocolates: Jjk edition (pre relationship)

Includes: Nanami Kento, Satoru Gojo & Geto Suguru <3 x gender neutral reader

Warnings: no use of yn lol, none that I can think of lmk

A/N: if you’ve left a request I see it don’t worry! Requests close on February 28th! Please read on my page for more info about sending a request! 🤍click here🤍 I had so much fun writing this omg! Xoxo

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Nanami Kento

To kento it was just another Friday but the bakery was more crowded than usual. Glancing at his watch as he waits in line, finally stepping up to the counter he greets you with a small smile. He orders his usual, stepping to the side as he glances at the case of red velvet cupcakes and other goodies decorated in pink and red frosting. Directing his attention to you coming in view with a small blue box on top his freshly wrapped bread. The rush of nervousness mixed with the adrenaline powering you through this interaction as you speak up, “i hope you can accept these chocolates, i made them for you” you confessed. The heat rushing to your cheeks as you feel his gaze and hearing the faint giggles from your coworkers behind you. for a moment he’s taken back and truthfully doesn’t know how to respond but says “thank you” with a nod and a small smile. You think you’ve ruined it all completely, moping around the whole day and dreading coming back in tomorrow. The idea of quitting your job and never looking back crossed your mind due to embarrassment. Saturday morning comes by as you begin your shift, preheating the oven as you hear the familiar bell ring of the front door. Your coworker peaks her head around the corner looking at you, “it’s for you” she hums with a grin before walking back towards you. Walking to the front as you pat your apron, looking up to see Kento with a bouquet of flowers. The heat rushes to your face again as your heart races, giving you a soft smile and blush raising to his cheeks. “I apologize for not reciprocating my interest yesterday, i was taken aback by your gesture but I’m grateful for it.” He expresses, extending the flowers to you. “It would be a pleasure to get to know you over dinner if you are interested?” Kento asks making eye contact with you. Nodding with a smile on your face as you accept the flowers “I’d really enjoy that” you confirm. Exchanging information takes a moment but before he leaves kento speaks up, “the chocolates were delicious by the way, you a very talented” he says with a grin before exiting.

Gojo Satoru

Every year since he was a teen gojo has always had an abundant of sweets, even if he doesn’t know who they are from, he keeps them. like com’n is Satoru one to pass upon sweets? Sitting on the benches during lunch You and geto glanced at each other as satoru went through each box not even caring who it was from. “This count higher or lower than last year?” Shoko rolls her eyes, standing up to zip up her jacket. “Lower but there is always more time left in the day” suguru hums, getting up from the bench following behind Shoko for a quick smoke break. Toying with your water bottle cap as satoru gasps, you look up at him “look its your favorite, let me feed it to you” he grins taking the sweet out of its packaging. Holding it up just a few inches away from your lips, you just blink at him, “what?” He asks confused. “That was gifted to you, it’s not for me to eat” you say trying not to let your jealousy bleed through. Satoru tsks shaking his head “but i want to share with you, open” he hums before making an ah sound. You roll your eyes and let him feed you the sweet treat.

Even years later he still gets an abundance of sweets so will these even make a difference if you give this to him you ask yourself? you glance at the small box in your bag. Taking a small breath pulling the small black box with a red ribbon tied nicely on it, you slip into his classroom placing it in the center on top papers from yaga that satoru had been putting off. Fifteen minutes or so go by and your phone screen lighting up catches your eye.

“Oh wow look what someone left me, these beautiful delicious chocolates;)”

“You always know my favorites😙❤️”

“Idk what you’re talking about”

“I don’t have six eyes for nothing😝”

“But yuji told me he seen you leaving them lol”

“….”

After teaching your last few classes of the day you practically speed walk to your car. Hoping to go home and put your comfy clothes on to binge that new series you’ve had your eye on. seeing the white hair a mile away as you reach your car leaves you smiling a little. Satoru turns around with that beautiful smile that makes you melt, “there you are. Let’s go get dinner tonight” satoru hums closing the gap between you. your heart racing as you shrug your shoulders. “Going out on Valentine’s Day last minute? Nowhere is going to have a seating open” you say dryly trying to play off the giddy feeling. “I can pull a few strings, but if you’d rather stay in and get takeout doesn’t sound too bad.” He offers with a smile. “Unless you want to get rid of me” he says with a fake pout making you playfully role your eyes. You turn to your car “I want to pick what we eat then” you add.

Suguru geto

Having been neighbors with geto for almost two years now has given you the courage to finally try to make a move, maybe now wasn’t a good time though? He’s always so busy with the girls, you’d never want to get in the way. From time to time you’d take the girls in for an hour after school if geto was running late. he’d always express his gratitude and adored how much the girls enjoyed being around you. The girls sat across from you as you washed grapes for them, Nanako speaks up “our dad doesn’t have a valentine this year” she ‘casually’ drops that followed by a giggle from Mimiko. “Oh is that so?” You humor them with a chuckle as you dry the grapes off with a towel. “Uh huh” Nanako hums with a giggle as the girls look at each other.

‘Just a test run of chocolates’ you thought to yourself as you made this small batch of chocolates. After cooling, you slip them into the white box and wrapping a small red ripen around it with a little attachment geto with a heart next to it. Taking a small breath as you are leaving for work you slip it in his mailbox before heading out of the building. The thought crossing your mind all day at work with a bunch of what ifs, you try grounding yourself to get through the rest of the day. Buzzing back into your building after a long day you just want to relax and it had completely slipped from your mind. Shedding your coat and keys at the door and letting it close behind you. Not even two minutes of being in you apartment you get a knock at your door, glancing at the door you hear muffled giggles and shh. Opening it to see Suguru with three heart shaped balloons, a Valentines basket decked out with goodies, your favorite chips and gift cards. Giving you that warm smile that you find comfort in “Happy Valentine’s Day” he hums. The girls peaking out on each side of him with small vases of flowers.

[frillydolle]

Hellooooo!!! I love ur page so much it’s so cutesy><<<

If u can and want to write hurt/comfort w Arthur Morgan plssss

Maybe they argue and he yells at her too loudly n scared her off sum, it’s all up to u💗💗

arthur morgan x farmer's daughter reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ hidden relationship , angst , father is an alcoholic , mother doesn't talk to you often , argument , slight comfort at the end.

your mother and father hated outlaws, you knew that well. growing up, they made sure you knew their feelings towards them: nothing more than merciless and ruthless killers. there wasn't one moment that they didn't mutter hatred spews everytime he read their crimes from the newspapers, wanted them gone by the lawmen. you were in love with one.

for as long as you've known arthur, he was always an outlaw while you were terrified of outlaws, but there was something... different about him that drew you to him. either it was his charm or the way he'd would take your teasing words with a smirk on his face. you were enthralled with him and he with you, never met a better man than arthur morgan.

now, after getting seen with him, you've barely heard anything from arthur, just assuming he got really busy being.. you know, an outlaw and... outlaw stuff. you've written countless letters to him and nothing in return which had your worries. out of boredom mixed with melancholy, you wrote another letter to him about needing to see him again and this time, he received it.

“oh arthur, you came!” you say as you quickly make your way over him, wrapping ur arms around his neck in an embrace, and he automatically wrapped his arms around your waist. “'course i did. y'called 'nd i heard.” he replied, kissing your temple. thankfully, your parents weren't in. probably in the town of strawberry, doing whatever.

and then you finally said it. “i didn't mean for daddy to talk to you like that... 'm sorry, arthur.” your daddy... he wasn't a nice man. to him or you, liked the bottle too much. arthur hated the way he treated you and your mother, your father didn't care about no one else but himself.

“it's just— 'm sorry for last time, i was worried about you— 'nd daddy that i—” he cut you off, he never did that unless he was upset. “'m a bigger fool than i even thought.” he says as he turns to walk away from you, and yet you catch his hand, intertwining your fingers into his.

“n—no, wait, arthur! i didn't mean it like that, i just—” everything was just so difficult, and everything was just so overwhelming. you didn't want to lose your boyfriend or your father by some silly mistake of getting caught. “i know he wasn't kind to you, he shouldn't have treated you like—”

“like i ain't worth it? like i don't belong with ya 'nd yer family? is that it?” he says, tone laced with a sort of sterness as you look away, being the guilt beginning to eat at you. you knew your mother and father didn't think much of him but that didn't mean anything, you still love him after all. you didn't think a relationship would be so... overwhelming, being those annoying tears swell up in ur doll-like gaze. you backed off from arthur.

“it ain't like that! my family just want me to have a better life than—” you weren't even sure what to say, you just wanted to welcome hin back proper, like usual. “than me?” his words made you pull away slightly, feeling the tears. oh, your mind was racing, couldnt even think properly. “than choices you make, arthur! i just— they wanted better but 'm happy with you.”

don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

“we've got different lives 'nd yours ain't right, livin' like that-” “yer life ain't any better than mine, with a drunken daddy on the farm like that. with ya comin' t'me fer someone to talk to?” he practically sneered, giving you a stern look.

god, you felt pathetic as you looked away. hiding the pretty pout and the tears that streaked down ur face, all because he intimidated you as she spilled the truth to you. your father was quite the drinker and you didn't get along with your mother well amd arthur all about that. he used it against you.

damn him and his silver tongue.

his gaze softened as your silent crying grounded him, he felt like such a god awful fool for speaking to you like that. what a idiot you are, morgan. the guilt was now eating at him as he just stood there for a few moments, watching you walk away to sit by the wooden seat, just outside your home. he felt bad, really bad but he was never good at words. well, more like he was never good at expressing his emotions. more of an action man.

he walks over to you, kneeling down infront of you. he hated himself for putting you in such a situation, ending you in such a mess. “you can be so mean, arthur...” you sniffled, looking down at him slightly as his hands reach out to hold yours. he had to admit, you are pretty when you are.

“'m sorry, darlin'.. didn't mean that, any of it. yer my sweet girl, always have been.” he says, his voice as he was gaining the attention of a wounded doe. he always treated you in such a way that often made you giggle, thinking about it every night. arthur stands up, and then he sits beside you, and before you know, he guides your head to rest on his shoulder.

“im sorry, sweetheart. i really am.”

“... i know.” arthur then wraps his shoulder around you, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

[olvxva]

stolen heat | joost klein x f!reader, ski aggu x f!reader

✦ wc: 5.5 k

✦ warnings: rpf!, cheating, angst, smut, public sex, smoking, drinking, cursing, mdni, remember it's pure fiction!!!

✦ summary: you're in a very stable and happy relationship, but sometimes words can mess with a common sense

✦ an: wanted to write something more debatable and i finally had the time to write it. please forgive me if it's lame ;)

the evening was muggy and the city lights reflected off the damp cobblestones of the street, creating shimmering reflections after the recent rain. the air carried the scent of summer dusk, mixed with the aroma of heated concrete and cigarette smoke, drifting lazily in a nearby alley. Aggu held you firmly by the hip; his hand rested there as if it was its natural place. you felt the warmth of his touch, which contrasted with the cool breeze softly brushing against your skin.

bar, to which you were heading, was already teeming with life outside. through the open door, fragments of loud music, laughter, and conversations spilled out, merging into one chaotic clamor. the neon lights illuminated your faces, giving them a somewhat surreal, multicolored glow. you quickened your pace and suddenly, the door swung wide and someone emerged from inside with a drink in hand, swaying slightly and almost bumping into you.

"hey, man, watch out" said Aggu half-jokingly, half in irritation, shielding you with a subtle movement of his body.

the stranger only muttered something under his breath, turning away before disappearing into the darkness of the street. August, never taking his eyes off you, grabbed your hand and led you inside. there, you found hot, stuffy air, filled with the smell of alcohol, sweet perfume, and a tightly packed crowd. people moved to the beat of the music and lights created flashes of bright smiles and shadows on their faces. you breathed out softly.

"i wonder, how our friends are doing" Aggu said with a smile, leaning closer to your ear to speak over the music. his tone was casual yet slightly provocative, as if he wanted to make sure you were having a good time.

"i think, they’re fine…" you gave him the most dazzling smile you could muster at that moment. he brushed your cheek lightly, then began guiding you toward the bar, deftly weaving past small groups of people standing in random spots, as though he'd known this place forever.

you noticed that the bar was exceptionally crowded that night. you felt eyes sliding over your figure, but with August by your side, you felt nothing but safe at that moment.

you both took the free seats you managed to find somehow, and Aggu leaned casually against the counter, throwing the bartender a laid-back gesture.

"so, what are you drinking, beautiful?" he asked, turning his head toward you. his voice was low, almost drowned out by the pounding bass that filled the place.

"you should already know the answer to that" you replied with a smile, tilting your head slightly to the side. your eyes met his, which for a moment seemed more intense than he intended. Aggu let out a soft laugh, as though your response amused him.

"so, the usual" he murmured, giving the bartender your order.

you turned away for a moment, trying to spot your friends, but the sound of a glass being placed in front of you pulled you out of your trance. you took a sip of your drink, feeling how the familiar taste provided a moment of relief in the overwhelming heat. August was still watching you and his smile, though gentle, seemed to conceal something more - something you sensed but couldn’t yet define.

"maybe we should find the others" you said after a moment, once again fixing your hair, which was slightly disheveled.

"ah, right…" Aggu replied with a wider smile "i’m sure they’ve really missed us."

he stood up, extending his hand toward you. for a moment, your gazes locked, and in his eyes, you noticed a slight tension, as if he were waiting for something to happen. maybe he felt the same way you did - that there was something different about this night. you took his hand, letting him lead you through the crowd once again.

"where are they?" you asked, looking at him with slight bewilderment, still not seeing any familiar faces in the massive group of people "we’re not that late..."

"they’re probably in the other part of the room" he replied, barely raising his voice above the music "come on."

at every step, people were chatting, sipping drinks, and the whole scene seemed full of energy, pulsing with an unrestrained urge to have fun. you managed to get past groups of people dancing nearby, when you finally heard the familiar, raspy voices coming from one of the booths.

"oh, there they are!" Aggu said, then quickened his pace, leading you toward the sounds. before you reached them, you felt his hand tighten around yours, as though he wanted to give you extra reassurance in all this chaos. your legs began to tremble slightly - not from fear, but from that strange, electrifying mix of excitement and adrenaline that filled the place. after a moment, you recognized familiar faces greeting you both.

"well, well, look who finally decided to show up!" came Stuntje’s boozy voice as he suddenly wrapped you in a hug so tight it was like he hadn’t seen you in years. his embrace was full of joy, and though the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke hanging in the air was a bit overpowering, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“oh, baby, you always know how to welcome me!” you replied, laughing quietly. at the same time, you noticed a hint of uncertainty in his hug - maybe he sensed the strength of Aggu’s presence right beside you, still holding your hand.

"i see something really important held you up if you’re this late" someone teased from deeper in the group.

August let out a quiet laugh, looking at you and then at the others. he was silent for a moment, deciding how to phrase it, then finally sat on the couch and pulled you close so that you ended up sitting on his lap without a word. his hand settled naturally on your waist and he gently stroked your back, as though trying to ease the tension in the air.

"we had… a private matter to take care of" he said, flashing a playful smile at your friends and your cheeks instantly grew warm.

sitting on his lap, you felt his hands on your waist, and that delicate touch reminded you of the odd energy that had been sparking between you for a while. the rest couldn’t fail to notice it - their gazes moved back and forth between you and him.

you’d been together for three months now, yet some of them still couldn’t hide their curiosity, looking for clues that might explain why there was something between you that no one could ignore. your relationship didn’t have a standard, drawn-out beginning. instead, everything fell into place so naturally that it was hard to believe how quickly it all came about.

Joost introduced the two of you one day. maybe that was when you first felt this was something you just had to try. Aggu was intriguing - his demeanor, his confidence, and his casual manner that never felt arrogant, immediately caught your attention. his playful remarks, how easy it was to talk to him and how effortlessly he made you smile, all led to you spending more and more time together.

you felt it after just a few of your first meetings: there was something you couldn’t explain, but you knew it was there. every day brought tiny gestures that went beyond friendship - his looks, the light touches that seemed small, yet felt so significant. and when you spent your first whole night together, talking about everything and nothing, you realized it wasn’t just friendship anymore.

and then, when that moment arrived - when your gazes began to meet under different circumstances, in different situations - everything became clear. the smile that lit up your face every time you spotted him in a crowd, the hand that accidentally found its way into yours, the look that held you captive for a moment - those were the instances that made it impossible for you to turn away.

sitting on his lap now, however, you felt strangely uneasy. an uncertainty washed over you, one you couldn’t explain. the tension in the air grew, not only because of the group’s stares, but also because something inside you had started to change. the feeling that had been building for days wouldn’t give you any peace.

you took a sip of your drink, feeling how suddenly all attention shifted from the two of you to someone else. Joost appeared at the table, holding a beer in his hand, and his steps were confident, though weighed down by something you couldn't quite pinpoint. before sitting down, he exchanged a smile with Aggu, patting him on the shoulder.

"what's up, man?" he said, then turned his gaze to you. his face wasn't wearing its usual smile, replaced instead by something that resembled cool indifference. for a moment, he looked at you as though deciding what to say, but in the end, he simply nodded, as if it was the most ordinary gesture.

he didn't even try to greet you with words. he just took a seat beside you, placing his beer on the table. still, his eyes kept drifting back to you, even though he said nothing. you were certain something in him had changed - the way he was looking at you, as if trying to uncover something he wouldn't speak aloud. even though you were still friends, you felt a weird feeling hovering between you.

you felt an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach. had you done something wrong? it's true that you hadn't been spending as much time together as before, but you still wanted your relationship to be like it used to be. something in Joost's behavior made you uneasy, as though there was an unspoken cloud hanging in the air, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was.

you knew that something had changed. maybe it was because of his gaze, which met yours for a moment - cold but filled with something more, something that might have been… anger? or maybe it was simply the fact that you still couldn’t forget how close you two used to be. now, sitting there, Joost seemed especially bothered by something.

your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Aggu’s hand sliding up your thigh. you felt a wave of warmth spread through your body at his touch. you turned more toward him, and your hands instinctively found the back of his neck, pulling him closer. his scent, the warmth of his body - everything about it made it impossible to focus on anything else. your lips met in a wet kiss, and you pulled away a moment later.

your heart raced and your breathing grew shallow. the kiss, though brief, left you with a feeling you couldn’t ignore. you looked into his eyes, searching for some kind of answer there, but instead you only felt a rising uncertainty.

you stared at him for a moment, but before you could gather your thoughts, you heard that familiar voice of Joost. his presence suddenly felt overwhelming.

"lovebirds, find yourselves a cozy spot, but please, not right here in front of everyone, okay?" he said, his voice laced with mild irony, and his eyes, though cool, tracked your every move.

you felt the tension growing, as though something intangible was hanging in the air. for a moment, you held your breath, feeling your heart race with nerves. his words were meant as a joke, but in that moment, they seemed charged with hidden meaning, as if there was more behind what he said.

you glanced at him, then at Aggu, who let out a light laugh in an attempt to ease the situation. still, there was something in his gaze - perhaps a shadow you spotted there - that told you he, too, felt uneasy. there was something in Joost’s behavior you couldn’t understand right now, but you sensed the whole situation was starting to slip out of control.

"whatever, i need a smoke" you said, carefully getting up from your boyfriend’s lap. you tried hard to keep your thoughts from spiraling, but the chaos in your mind was overwhelming. reluctantly, you looked at Joost, whose eyes you still felt on you.

"how about some shots?" someone in the group called out, trying to break the tension of this weird situation. the others murmured their agreement, and a few people began heading toward the bar. Aggu looked at you with curiosity on his face, but he said nothing, simply watching you closely.

"do you want me to go with you?" he asked quietly, raising his eyebrows slightly, as if he wanted to give you space but also didn’t want to leave you alone.

you felt a strange, indescribable sensation growing in your stomach. maybe it was fear, maybe excitement - maybe both. either way, you wanted to escape the situation for a moment. you needed a breath of air.

"no need, go with the others. i’ll catch up later" you said, trying to sound confident. you looked at Aggu, who didn’t move at first, as if still wondering whether you really wanted to be alone.

he merely nodded, giving you a slight smile, though his eyes revealed that he noticed something was off. after a moment, without another word, he walked away to join the rest.

"i’ll go with you" the blond guy spoke up after a pause "i’m not in the mood to drink more tonight anyway."

you glanced at him, feeling a little uneasy, but said nothing. you only nodded slightly and started heading toward the back exit, aware of his gaze on you. even though you wouldn’t admit it, you felt relief that you wouldn’t be alone, that someone had chosen to stay by your side. ever since Joost entered the room, you’d sensed that something was shifting in the air, that the energy between you was taking on a strange, incomprehensible form.

you went outside and Joost pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket, took one out, and offered it to you after a moment. you looked at him briefly, unsure of what to say, but finally nodded and accepted.

"thanks" you said softly, lighting it and drawing in the first puff of smoke, which immediately enveloped your senses and calmed them.

Joost stood beside you, lighting his own cigarette, but he didn’t speak right away. for a moment, there was silence between you - only the sounds of the city and your breathing filled the background.

"what’s going on?" he asked at last, looking at you. his voice was gentle, yet still distinct in the quiet.

you knew he couldn’t fail to notice the change in your demeanor, that strange atmosphere that had suddenly arisen between you, even though you were friends. you fell silent for a moment, searching for the right words, but instead you only lowered your gaze and took another drag of smoke.

"it seems like i should be the one asking you that..." you replied somewhat sarcastically, lifting your gaze to him. you felt something rough in your voice, as though you could no longer fully hide it.

Joost held your gaze for a moment, and his face seemed to harden. he didn’t respond right away; instead, he blew out a stream of smoke toward the sky, staring into the darkness for a while.

"i don’t know what you’re talking about" he finally said, but his voice sounded different than usual - more subdued, with a trace of something that hadn’t been there before.

he went quiet again, his gaze fixed on the space behind you, as though he were avoiding your eyes. it seemed he was trying to keep a lid on something - whatever was about to surface - but in his eyes, you could still see that unspoken answer you longed to hear.

"there’s really nothing going on" he finally said, but his tone was too soft, too unconvincing. you felt an unspoken presence hovering between you, as if waiting to break free.

"i don’t believe you" you replied, looking at him with a hint of irritation "Joost, don’t be childish. i know something’s off. you’ve been acting weird around me all night, and now you want me to believe you don’t know what i’m talking about?"

your words hung in the air. Joost blinked, as if colliding with a reality he’d been trying to avoid. the calm you usually saw in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. you watched him carefully, hoping to catch some clue about what he was really thinking.

"can’t you just tell me now?" you asked, feeling your hands tremble slightly "what’s this game all about? why are you hiding from me like this?"

he sighed deeply, his gaze shifting to the side for a moment.

"maybe i don’t want to tell you" he said quietly, as if trying to conceal his words, though they rang loud in the hush that surrounded you.

"i don’t really understand..." you answered, still staring at him with an expectant look that made it clear you wouldn’t back down "we’re friends, Joost. i have no idea what’s going on, but i’m not giving up until i get an answer."

the silence that followed was almost tangible, the atmosphere suddenly so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"sometimes..." he began, then hesitated as though unsure whether to continue. he looked at you for a moment and then sighed "sometimes things aren’t always what they seem" his words lingered in the air, leaving you suspended in uncertainty. you could feel something unspoken circling around you, something that was bound to come out eventually.

"what do you mean?" you asked, unable to conceal the tension in your voice any longer. you studied him intently, hoping to glean some hint from his expression, but his face remained unreadable.

he drew a deep breath, as though trying to gather his thoughts, but something in his posture betrayed that he was holding something inside, something that refused to emerge.

"never mind" he began again, but this time it seemed like the words were stuck in his throat. after a moment, he looked at you, and a certain shadow appeared in his eyes.

"i don’t know what’s happening to me" he finally added quietly, as though he was at last freeing himself of a heavy burden "maybe i shouldn’t be telling you this, but... i always wanted there to be something more between us than just friendship."

your heart stopped for a moment, and your mind filled with a storm of thoughts. you struggled for any words, but all you could do was stare at him, surprised and thrown off course.

"Joost, stop…" you began, but you couldn’t finish, because what he was saying made no sense. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

"you know, you’ve always been someone special to me" he added quickly, as if trying to explain himself, but his voice now sounded bitter "it’s just... i never knew how to tell you."

you felt your heart beat faster. what you heard made no sense at all.

"why are you doing this to me now?" you managed at last, your words hitting like a blow. the tension that had held you in place exploded suddenly, mingling with a wave of confusion and anger. you looked at him, feeling your heart thump erratically, as if trying to break free from your chest.

"this isn’t... this isn’t the right time for this" you went on, your voice cracking near the end of the sentence "why now? why at this moment, when everything is already so complicated?"

there was something in his expression that made you feel as though you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to step forward or back. your heart pounded and your head buzzed with questions that had no answers. and there was that uncertainty, like a shadow, a darkness spreading through your thoughts.

"you think it’s easy for me to watch the two of you almost every day?" Joost burst out, and now his voice held something more than sadness - it was frustration, as if these words had escaped at the moment he could no longer keep them in "i know, you’re with Aggu, i know, your relationship makes sense but that doesn’t change the fact that… that i wanted something too."

you stared at him in silence, feeling your heart clench with emotions that had no way out. what he was saying wasn’t easy to accept, but you couldn’t ignore what you felt in that moment - the strange sting of regret spreading through your body. you didn’t know how to react, what to say to make sense of it all, to avoid hurting anyone in this chaos.

"but i can’t... i can’t return your feelings, Joost" you said softly, sensing a hint of sadness on your face "it’s not what you think. i can’t give you what you want."

"you can't or don't want to?" Joost asked with a slight edge in his voice, as though searching for some loophole in your answer. he looked at you intently, his gaze giving you no chance to escape that question, from this moment that suddenly became unbearable. you fell silent for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts.

"Joost, it’s not like that..." you began, but there was uncertainty in your voice. the tension in the air between you intensifying.

"either way, i have nothing to lose" he said, moving closer, and his voice grew soft, almost pleading "i understand if you don’t feel the same, but… maybe give me a chance to prove it to you."

the uncertainty that had been present for so long now seemed to overwhelm all your thoughts. you struggled to control the whirlwind of emotions, but at last, you felt your resistance start to melt away. there was something in his bearing, in that look of his, that made it impossible for you to say “no.”

without another word, he came even closer. you felt his warmth as he stood right beside you, looking at you in a way you could no longer ignore. your cigarette stubs had long since been abandoned on the cold concrete. you no longer had any doubts and with every second in this silence, that uncertainty vanished, replaced by something more intense.

then his hand found its way to your neck, and his lips brushed yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first but grew more passionate with each moment. you began to feel his touch flowing through you, losing yourself in the feeling that had been building up throughout the conversation. and though you tried to resist, you finally felt yourself give in.

deep down, you were grateful that you two were off to the side now, where there were hardly any people around. the distant lights of the bar cast gentle shadows on your faces. the air between you felt thicker than before, as though the unspoken emotions had suddenly become too heavy to bear. you looked at him, a battle raging in your mind - reason telling you one thing, while your heart and body screamed something else.

"Joost, we can't…" you whispered between kisses, attempting to hold back your own hesitation, but he only moved his mouth down to your neck, so you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"tell me you don’t want this and i’ll go" he replied quietly, but you heard desperation in his voice, as though this were his last chance "we’ll go back inside like nothing ever happened."

you said nothing, and though your hands wanted to push him away on principle, they ended up resting on his chest as though searching for support. he was so close that you had nowhere to retreat, and the tension that had built up between you for so long now finally began to find release.

his hands gently yet firmly took hold of your hips, pressing you lightly against the cold wall behind you. you looked into his eyes, seeking an answer, but all you saw was a spark that instantly ignited something in you. before you could react, his mouth found yours again.

the kiss was fierce, charged with that elusive energy that had gripped you both for so long. your thoughts ceased to exist for a moment. Joost’s hands slid higher, gripping you tighter, as if he feared you might disappear. you didn’t protest; your body, almost independently of you, responded to his touch, to this moment you’d been avoiding for so long.

your fingers laced themselves into his hair, and your heart hammered wildly, trying to find its own rhythm in the chaos unfolding. Joost pulled back for an instant to catch his breath, his eyes, darker than usual, fixed on your face.

"tell me to stop" he whispered, his voice low and raspy, his breathing uneven.

you wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in your throat. your gaze lingered on his lips, and a wave of warmth coursed through your body. instead of answering, you pulled him closer yourself, giving him the response he needed.

his hands found yours, lifting them gently above your head, pinning them against the wall as if to make sure you wouldn’t run. you felt his lips on yours again, hungrier and more demanding, and your body responded to his every move.

quiet moans escaped your mouth as Joost pressed his crotch against you. his body pushed harder against yours, your breaths becoming short and ragged. the soft sounds you couldn’t hold back only seemed to spur him on. his hands, still holding yours above your head, were firm but held an odd tenderness - like he feared this moment might vanish in an instant.

his hips began moving with a slow confidence, and the heat of his body seemed to seep through your clothes, blurring every boundary between you. you felt his lips leave yours to travel down to your collarbone, leaving wet traces that sent shivers of pleasure through you.

"Joost…" you whispered his name quietly, almost pleading, though you weren’t sure what you actually wanted - begging him to stop or never to stop at all.

another faint moan slipped from your throat as his hips shifted, sending a spark through your entire body. Joost looked directly into your eyes - his gaze was so intense, almost hypnotic, as though he was trying to read every emotion on your face. his breathing was fast, unsteady, and the warmth of his body was almost overpowering.

"i need you" he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips along your neck, leaving damp kisses in his wake "i’ve always needed you."

your hands, still pinned above your head, twitched as if wanting to break free, but you didn’t have the strength to do it. his touch was everything you wanted in that moment, even though somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this shouldn’t be happening.

"please… do something" you whispered desperately against his mouth. you saw something flicker in his eyes, as though he had been waiting for this moment, for that tiny request that gave him permission. the hands that had held yours above your head slid downward, brushing your shoulders and collarbones, then finally found your waist, pulling you even closer.

slowly, his hands began to explore your body, and your fingers came to rest at the nape of his neck, gripping a little tighter, as if seeking support. there was no turning back now - only him, his touch, and that unspoken need burning between you both.

his hand soon found the soft skin of your inner thigh. after a moment, you felt his fingertips graze your panties, pushing them slightly aside. you needed him, right then and there.

his lips left yours, traveling along your jaw and down your neck again, planting hot kisses that sent shivers racing down your spine. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, encouraging more, even though your mind still flickered with the awareness that this was crossing a line.

your hands moved to his belt, unfastening it with a few quick motions. your breaths intertwined, mingling in the space between you. you undid his pants and took his hard length in your hand.

"oh, fuck… so needy" was all he managed to say in that moment.

his hands lifted your thighs, making you wrap them around him, and in that moment, you felt even more strongly how much he wanted you. the wall behind you was cold, but that only heightened the contrast with the fire that was burning inside you. every movement, every touch felt like it was setting you ablaze, filling you with a mix of excitement.

after a moment, you felt him move inside of you. his lips lingered by your ear for a moment, releasing a ragged breath that mingled with yours. in the half-light, you could only make out the outline of his face; a narrow beam of light from a distant streetlamp fell on both of you, painting shadows on the wall. the sound of music from the bar reached you faintly, as if it belonged to another world, and now only this moment mattered - your quickened breaths, the warmth of your bodies.

his hands tightened their grip on your thighs. you felt every nerve in your body respond to his touch - a mix of lust and overwhelming pleasure. your heart pounded like crazy. somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this shouldn’t be happening, yet every movement Joost made and the bliss coursing through you effectively drowned out that thought. you felt a wave of forgetting wash over you - only he existed, his touch, his rapid breath close to your neck.

his movements became more deliberate, and with each slow thrust, you felt a surge of warmth pulse through your body. a low moan escaped your lips, blending with the muffled sounds of the night. every brush of his skin against yours seemed to heighten the tingling sensation coursing through your veins, and an unmistakable urgency wove itself into the air around you.

Joost caught your gaze and his hand slid up your side, fingers splayed to take in as much of you as he could, lingering at the curve of your waist. the moment felt both endless and fleeting, as though time had slowed just enough for you to memorize the rise and fall of his chest, the small tremors in his muscles, the rapid thudding of your own heart.

"you’re so beautiful when i fuck you like that" his voice was hushed, ragged, as though any louder sound might shatter the fragile intimacy. he leaned in to capture your mouth in a needy kiss. you responded with the same hunger.

there was a heady mix of desperation in each movement. every time he pulled you closer, it was as though he wanted to merge all the space that remained between you, to reassure himself that you were truly there. your legs tightened around his waist, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm you created together - fierce, then gentle, fierce again.

you arched your back against the wall, a soft sound escaping your lips as the pleasure built up, a heat just beneath your skin. Joost shifted his weight, angling himself to bring you closer to orgasm. with each shared breath, you could sense how close he was to losing himself as well. his forehead pressed against yours, and for a moment, you both just breathed - eyes closed, hearts pounding in unison - before the next wave of movement carried you further.

"look at me" he murmured, voice unsteady. opening your eyes, you found his gaze locked on you, pupils dark with desire, but also brimming with something more than raw lust. there was a reverence in his face, a quiet question, one that asked if this was real, if you were truly here.

in a heartbeat, you felt the swell of release rise inside you, spreading like liquid warmth through every limb. your nails dug into his shoulders, and the tension that had been coiling within you finally snapped. you heard your own voice, husky and breathless, merging with his low groan.

in the aftermath, all the tantrum stilled. your breathing came in shallow gasps, chest rising and falling as you clutched at Joost, your bodies still together. the world outside, for a brief moment, felt far away, nothing but the soft hum of city lights and the lingering echo of music in the distance.

with one last gentle press of his lips against yours, Joost allowed a quiet exhale to escape, as if releasing all the pent-up yearning he had carried until now. he rested his forehead on your shoulder, arms still snug around your waist, neither of you quite ready to break that connection. it was in this hush that you felt the weight of what had just happened.

"what the fuck have we just done.." was all you could say.

[harukyuu2]

Hii! I hope you're doing well! I saw your wind breaker with a childhood friend and I loved your writing! Could you write how the Furin first years would react when seeing fem.reader beating up a couple of guys causing trouble? Like, she would be pretty strong and beautiful, also really good at fighting. It could be a scenario or headcanons, whatever's best for you ^^

"Hold my purse, i'm gonna kick their asses!" - Furin first years x Fem!reader

!! - Fluff, headcanons !!, some of them can be a little ooc since im not sure how good i can write them, established relationship but first months of it (?? - small revision only

୨୧ - As you were walking to meet your s/o, your ears caught a weird sound coming from one of the valleys. As you walked over, you saw some guys threatening a girl against a wall— and you werent about to let her down! With no one else around to help, you went in alone, taking a deep breath and hoping the outfit you just put on wouldnt get ruined… or else you were going to kick their asses again once they're unconcious!

୨୧ - Haruka Sakura

❥ This man thought for a moment you werent coming at all, maybe you had something more important to do. But still, he started walking outside of the Cafe looking for you

❥ When he heard a harsh thump and saw that you beated up like four men alone?? , he wont admit it but it made him fall more for you than he already did

❥ He would probably rush to you and start lecturing you on why you shouldnt fight without asking for Furin's help— that its their job after all! But the way his eyes scan your body tells you everything… he's worried about you

❥ If your hair gets messy or your clothes a little dirty, he doesnt mind that much—youre still pretty, so he doesnt see the problem. If you start whining about a broken nail, he's not too sure what to do, but he might make a quick stop to buy you a bandaid and then grab your hand to make you feel better shut up!

❥ He would probably ask you for a fight, he just has that thing of loving to challenge strong people and not seeing it weird... Still, just give him a kiss to shut him up adding a small punch to his arm and you win tbh

❥ Would offer you a piece of his food to make you feel better and not guilty of making him wait. Please notice HE is sharing HIS FOOD, that just shows love!!

୨୧ - Hayato Suo

❥ This man worried so much that you werent coming by now, or even texting him back :( The moment a minute passed, the moment he went out looking for you

❥ He was walking towards the street you usually get distracted by the stray cats, but he stopped in his tracks recognizing your voice with another girl in one of the valleys

❥ The scene unfolding in front of him was honestly amusing to him and piqued his curiosity— a girl sobbing into your shoulder while you comforted her, and a group of men lying on the floor? Was that… your handiwork?

❥ He walked up to you and smiled gently, asking if you two were okay! He has zero shame, so he probably grabbed your hands to check them, maybe sneaking in a caress here and there while scolding you for not telling him you were about to pick a fight. You left your boyfriend scared! He also checked on the other girl— just not touchy as he is with you ofc

❥ When the girl thanked you two, probably exchanged her socials with you and leaved, damnnn, expect a wave of teasing from Suo. No matter how you respond, he'll find a way to twist it back into teasing until youre pouting. Then, with that smug grin of his, he'll say he doesnt want to pick a fight with you, so you should calm down!

❥ If youre sad that your hair got messy, he's instantly brushing it for you. If your outfit got a little wrinkled, he would fix it with his hands! maybe a little squeeze here and there to annoy you.. and if any of your nails got broken, he would offer to pay an appointment with a nail salon for you— Basically he would treat you the rest of the date since you amused him and because you need it after a fight <3

୨୧ - Mitsuki Kiryu

❥ He sent you more than 300 messages and stickers, lets not even mention the calls. He usually goes with you to make sure your date goes safely, but this is the first—and probably last—time he lets you walk alone, knowing how dangerous the streets can be at this hour. Yeaahh, maybe he's exaggerating a little. He'll let you walk alone again… probably. But still, he feels a little guilty that something could had happened to you

❥ Once he searches for you and founds you on a dirty valley being thanked by a girl while the floor has fainted mans on it, he isnt too surprised— he knows he choosed a strong and pretty girlfriend! Still, he feels kinda guilty that he wasnt there for you...

❥ Baby goes to check on you two quickly and pats your head saying you made a good job, but of course scolds you saying that you should warn him about this situations, he wants to take care of you too!

❥ You two walked the girl to her house making sure she gets there safely and then finally started having your date! He would get you to buy accesories, clothes or something you want if youre grumbling about the fight ruining your outfit— he wants to see you happy <3

❥ Probably ended in the arcade to get plushies and play some of the games, Kiryu loves them and also loves you so its the perfect plan! It wont be easy getting a win against him tho, but atleast he reassures you with plushies

❥ To be honest, it was one of the best dates—you got lots of praise, playful teasing, and even some gifts from him. Sure, you also got scolded for not telling him you were about to fight, but hey! You saved a girl! Definitely a day you two will remember for a long time

୨୧ - Nirei Akihiko

❥ Panics the first five minutes of you dissapearing and without thinking too much just starts running around looking for you, no matter what situation you are in, he will go for you!

❥ Once he founds you on a valley?? with like four men laying on the floor?? AND A GIRL HUGGING YOU LIKE YOU JUST SAVED HER LIFE?? The poor boy is going through seven different emotions and at the same time thinking he has to fill more your part in his journal

❥ He rushes towards you and starts asking you million of questions in a milisecond: "Are you okay?" "Youre hurt?" "did you beat up those guys?" "Where did you learn to fight?" "Oh, youre hair looks pretty! you used the conditioner you told me, right?" His mind is rushing just like his words, but calms down once you squeeze his shoulders

❥ He probably invites you to eat but can't help feeling a little guilty, unsure if he could've protected you the same way you did for that girl. You'll have to reassure him—just a little—to lift his mood up for now

❥ I cant unsee this relationship like "Sir, he asked for no pickles" type of thingy and i love ittt, once Nirei gets over his feeling of guilt he admires you so much that he sometimes doesnt know how he pulled you, youre on his mind 24/7 <3

୨୧ - Taiga Tsugeura

❥ Man said that if you didnt appear the moment he ends his ab crunches he would start looking out for you, and so he did! it was kinda scary for the people on the street seeing such a big guy running like his life depend on it, but atleast he is from Furin so no big problem!

❥ While you reassured the girl, she probably got scared seeing a big guy running toward you two— but quickly turned confused when he accidentally kicked one of the unconscious men, muttered a quick "sorry," and then suddenly softened up, asking if you were okay and telling you that you missed him doing twenty ab crunches!

❥ He probably apologized for not being here to you two and then suddenly told you that this is your virtue! being a strong and pretty girl who saves other girls!

❥ This man got obsessed with the idea of his girlfriend being strong! He'd start ranting about workout routines you could try at the gym, maybe even recommending proteins you might like. Oh! And dont forget—you need a good balance of food too! Yeah, he got pretty excited about the idea of you being strong

❥ Still, he would tell you that you dont need to fight all the time since he is there for you and would remark it if you start whining of your outfit getting messy

୨୧ - Kyotaro Sugishita

❥ He thought for a moment you were showing up later as a revenge because last time he accidentally overslept for five minutes, but still decided to look out for you just in case he was wrong

❥ When he found you after beating some guys up?? he was stressed and mad. Not at you— of course, but at those guys! such scumbags making stressful situations for nothing.

❥ Sugishita is still learning about all this couple thingy, but atleast he goes to ask if youre ok and tries to reassure you giving a weird squeeze to your shoulder— its a start!

❥ He doesnt directly mention that your hair got a little messy on the fight, in his eyes youre still pretty so no need to mention it. But, if you bring it to the conversation— he'll probably find a way to fix it and give you a cute hairstyle, Tsubakino always gives nice tips to him about it!

❥ Probably bringed you a handmade gift from his grandma since she's supportive ofc but got a little scrunched up when he was walking faster than usual to find you...

[muldersfingers]

I want to know about every one of those WIPs, but "ill-advised s1 sex fic" ?? I need to know more immediately, please.

Ohhhh so.

I started writing it on the premise that they start sleeping together from s1 and continue to have sex when they need comfort from each other. I guess I was gonna develop the relationship further idk. It begins at Squeeze. I was gonna strip it for parts for our First Time fest thing lol (as I drew Beyond The Sea and the second time they have sex is then)

I think ultimately I abandoned it because it felt a little toxic for them to be sleeping together when one of them is vulnerable. Oooh I just remembered this was my original enemies to lovers premise but I couldn't make them hate each other lmao. Teacher AU is my second attempt at enemies to lovers and that is going much better.

First scene of ill-advised s1 sex fic under the cut! (This is long lmao 2500 words of mostly smut!)

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

She was very visibly far from fine. Her eyes were wide and she was trembling, although she was making a decent effort to hide it. 

“You should stay with someone,” he insisted gently. 

“I am not going to be driven out of my own apartment.” Scully shrugged softly. “He’s in jail, Mulder. I feel perfectly safe. You should go, it’s late.”

“Scully-”

I’m made of tough stuff, Mulder. Go, I’ll be alright.”

Scully’s walls. Her mask. He knew she wasn’t fine, but what could he do? It wasn’t appropriate for him to continue to push, or to insist on staying when she had asked him to leave.

He tenderly placed a hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair briefly before smiling and heading towards the door.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Got it. Bye, Mulder.”

He exited her apartment and shook his head. She could be infuriating sometimes.

All he could do was wait for a call from her that likely wouldn’t come. He climbed into his car, sighing and dropping his head back against the headrest. They caught Tooms, he had to focus on that. He got to her apartment before she was sans liver, and Tooms couldn’t complete his cycle.

He shook his head and sighed again, pulling his cellphone from his pocket. He would head off home in a minute, but he should make a call first.

“Mom?” he said into the phone. “Hi, Mom. It’s Fox. Just returning your call, but, uh… I guess it’s pretty late. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He hung up the phone and threw it onto the passenger seat. As he reached round to grab his seatbelt, he saw her.

Scully hurried down the external steps of her apartment building, duffel bag in hand. She had changed from the clothing she had worn when Tooms attacked her, now clad in oversized comfy apparel. She quickly moved to her car, looking around self-consciously and fumbling with her keys.

Mulder flung his door open across the street from her, crossing quickly. She startled violently.

“God, you scared me.” She huffed air out through her nose. “Were you spying on me, Mulder?”

“I was making a phone call before heading home. You were waiting for me to leave, weren’t you? So I didn’t see that you weren’t okay.”

“It’s not your problem, Mulder.”

“Scully,” Mulder replied, incredulous. “Look, you’re in no state to drive. Let me stay with you here, or come back to my apartment.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t stay here. Not tonight.”

He took her bag and led her to his car.

-

Scully was quiet on the drive, and when Mulder opened the door to his apartment she crossed straight to the couch and curled up in one corner. 

“Can I get you anything?”

Scully looked around. She looked small and vulnerable, and Mulder felt helpless. It was jarring and uncomfortable, seeing her like this.

“A blanket, please?”

“Sure.” Mulder crossed into his bedroom, quickly fetching a blanket from his closet. “But I hope you’re not planning on sleeping on the couch. That’s my spot.”

“You sleep here?”

“Where else? My bed?” Mulder scoffed. 

Scully managed a small smile as she took the blanket and shook it out, snuggling up in it. Mulder slipped off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the armchair. He loosened and yanked off his tie.

“Will you sit with me?”

“Of course.”

Mulder sat a respectable distance away from her on the couch, draping his arm across the back of it, an invitation if she wanted to take it that way. She immediately crawled over and huddled against his side.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He grazed his fingertips over her shoulder in response, before returning his arm to the back of the couch. She tilted her head to look up at him and, when he looked down at her, she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Mulder smiled, furrowing his brow in surprise.

Scully reached up to cup his jaw, and Mulder stilled in surprise as she pulled him down to meet her, kissing him firmly on the lips. He didn’t quite acknowledge what was happening until she pulled away.

“Scully-” Mulder chuckled in disbelief. “Wha-”

He trailed off as she pushed the blanket aside, moved onto her knees and crawled onto his lap, straddling him. 

He was a weak man. He was beginning to grow hard underneath her, and he couldn’t bring himself to physically remove her, even though he knew this was a terrible idea.

“Scully, come on.”

“I want you.”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

Her face hardened, her fingertips digging almost painfully into his shoulders.

“Dammit, Mulder. Don’t tell me I’m not thinking straight.” She shifted on his lap and he suppressed a moan. “All I’m doing is thinking. I just want to not think. To feel something. I need to be comforted, Mulder.”

“Scully…” Mulder sighed as she began to kiss his neck and rock her hips. “It’s just such a bad idea.”

“I really don’t care.”

“You’ve had one hell of a day and-”

“Mulder!” Scully clapped her hands to either side of his face, holding him firmly. “Look, tell me to stop, and I will.”

Mulder closed his eyes. He can’t deny having an obvious attraction to her from the beginning, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, considering her out of bounds. But here she was, quite literally putting herself on a plate for him. He knew this behaviour was born out of the trauma she had been through, but if he could comfort her in some way, make her forget, then he was running out of reasons to say no.

She kissed him again and, when Mulder made no move to resist, she pushed her tongue insistently into his mouth. 

He found himself afraid to touch her, still working to get his head around the situation. It was Scully. Sent to spy on him, but potentially becoming a worthy partner for him on the X-Files. Despite her tendency to laugh at him, he never felt belittled or mocked by her, and she always listened to him. Nobody had ever really listened to him. And here they were, putting all of that in jeopardy, but he couldn’t bring himself to push her off, to deny her of something that might make her okay again. Despite the inevitable consequences, he definitely wanted this.

She was still kissing him, eager and feverish. One hand was still on the side of his face, gripping him firmly, and the other was roaming over his chest. Mulder tentatively brought his hands to her waist, and it seemed as though Scully saw this as permission, as confirmation that this was okay and it was going to happen; she immediately fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, flicking them open one by one. Once it was unbuttoned, she yanked his shirt open and ran her small hands over his chest.

Scully finally pulled her mouth away from his, and he watched, slack-jawed as she kissed down his neck, over his collarbone. Her fingers moved to his belt buckle, and Mulder closed his eyes as he heard the dull metallic sound of it being pulled open. She unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, the sensation on his erection making his hips buck slightly.

He suddenly realised, as Scully shuffled backwards on his lap, where this was going. He grabbed hold of her hips before she could slip off his lap. He felt as though her putting her mouth on him would be too much. He wouldn’t feel right about her performing an act for his own gratification. This was supposed to be about her. Her comfort, her feeling something.

Mulder wrapped an arm around her hips, pressing her close to him, and stood to his feet. Scully let out a little yelp, but clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her through to the bedroom. She attached her mouth to his neck, indulgently sucking and licking and nibbling at his skin.

“Don’t mark me, Scully. That’ll be hard to explain away in the office tomorrow.”

He immediately cursed himself for mentioning work, as lighthearted as his comment was, but it didn’t seem to bother her, if she had even been listening. 

Mulder placed Scully down on the bed carefully before stepping away to shed his trousers and boxers. He watched, with increasing arousal, as Scully pulled off the sweatpants she was wearing, quickly followed by the oversized t-shirt. She laid there, in her underwear, looking at him with a strange sort of defiance.

He shrugged off the shirt from his shoulders as he stared at her. He felt a little self-conscious, standing over her completely naked, his dick hard and wanting. It felt so wrong, this situation, but so good. Her eyes roamed over his body quickly, fixing on his dick with wide-eyed desire. Shit.

“Scully,” he said, breath heavy with confused arousal. “Are you sure?”

“Dammit, Mulder,” she replied quietly, clenching her eyes shut. “Please fuck me.”

Mulder’s breath caught in his throat. He cursed himself for being so weak, so pathetic. This woman was becoming precious to him, if he was honest, and here he was, desiring cheap thrills from her body. 

The reasons why this was an awful idea were the same reasons he just couldn’t say no to her.

He laid down on the bed next to her and, hesitating for a second, he initiated a kiss. She was just as eager as before, growing more so, and he knew it was time to take the plunge. He placed a hand over her ribs, sliding downwards until his fingertips came into contact with the hem of her panties. She moaned against his mouth, and his dick twitched. 

He pulled his mouth away to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Mulder, if you ask me if I’m sure again-”

Mulder sighed, seeing determination, arousal, and the ghost of fear in her eyes. He dropped his forehead to hers and pushed his fingers down into her panties.

Scully let out a long, low groan, and he pushed a finger between her folds. 

“God,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “You’re so wet.”

“You see how hot I am for you?” she said. “How much I need you?”

He shifted so his dick was pressed against her thigh, and he rutted slightly, just to get a bit of friction. Scully moaned appreciatively, quiet until he moved his finger to circle her clit.

“Ah, fuck,” she whined, placing her hand over her panties, over his hand. “Faster.”

Any hesitation he had began to melt away as he watched her face and body relax, the fear and tension dissipate and pleasure engulf her. He could see now that this is what she needed, and she trusted him to give it to her, which felt pretty good.

He alternated between rubbing her clit as fast as he could and slowing to languid strokes through her wetness, which she was very clearly enjoying. When he pushed a fingertip inside her, she squeezed his hand.

“Enough,” she said firmly. “Fuck me.”

“Shit,” he muttered, slowly pulling his hand from her panties and rolling over to rifle through his drawer. 

He was 99% sure he had condoms, and about 70% sure they hadn’t expired. He cried out triumphantly when he found one, peering at the date printed on the side. Success.

He dropped it to the bed next to Scully’s hip and tucked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down, causing Scully to yelp. He met her eyes, and she smiled wildly.

“God,” he said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head. 

He tore the little packet open, quickly rolling the condom down his shaft. Scully dropped her legs wide open, and he couldn’t actually believe what he was seeing. It was a beautiful sight, and one he felt invasive for looking at.

When he pushed his tip inside her, she sighed in relief as if it was all she had been waiting for. He kept his eyes on her face, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable or regretful as he pushed further in, pulling out slightly before going deeper. 

“Come on, Mulder,” Scully urged him as he bottomed out. “Hard and fast.”

“Shit.” 

It would be fast, alright, if she kept talking like that. He began to move, quickly building up to a fast rhythm, slamming into her as hard as he dared. Her legs were snaked around his hips, her heels digging into his ass cheeks. The fact this was such an ill-advised thing to do was proving to be a turn on for Mulder, who could already feel the hot coil of orgasm approaching.

He shifted his weight to free up his right hand and pushed it down between their bodies, pressing his thumb firmly against her clit. She cried out, digging her heels into his ass harder as she lifted her hips to try and match his rhythm.

He clenched his eyes shut. Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

Mulder sped up to an unsustainable speed, trying to move his thumb in rhythm too, but his head was swimming and everything was beginning to feel jumbled. Scully began to move even faster, desperate even, he inwardly sighed in relief when he felt her walls begin to contract, clenching around him as she dug her fingernails deep into his shoulders, crying out so loudly Mulder felt self-conscious about his neighbours. 

“Fuck, Mulder,” she growled. 

Mulder dropped his head and thrust a few more times before his own release came, arousal giving way to satiety, which soon gave way to guilt.

Scully watched him, dazed, as he slowly pulled out, waddled out to the bathroom to tie and throw away the condom, and return back to the bedroom.

He didn’t really know what to do with himself. She was laying on her back, arms either side of her head. At a loss, he laid down next to her, trying not to make physical contact.

“That was exactly what I needed.” She sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied cautiously.

Maybe it was just him, but as they both came down and grew lucid, the atmosphere became awkward. Scully eventually got up to use the bathroom, and Mulder took that opportunity to grab a pillow and make his way to the couch to settle in for the evening. He returned for some sweatpants as she came back.

“Good night,” he said.

She watched him with interest, but said nothing.

The next morning, she was up early and, declining a shower and breakfast, she was out the door with a brisk, “see you at the office in a while.”

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What would your broken heart feel about your nuptial union ? (18+)

PILE 3 

SONG : Georgia on My mind - Ray Charles

2 wands, World, 3 cups (reverse), Emperor (reverse) 

Y’all ate your 12 red grapes under the table this year. 

The reading is you take down your wedding day hairstyle while your husband is setting up the room (whatever that means …) and you look at the mirror, there's a flash of your older self. 

(You are caressing your wedding ring.) 

I was pissed when they brought him back into my life again. When I ate the 12 red grapes we had just broken up … I know I am the one who decided to end things because I could not handle the purity of his love. Yes I know it was probably a very bitchy move to eat the grape under the table but I thought that maybe with someone else I would be able to open my heart more easily. I was so scared to break him. I’ve been broken so many times before. I did not want to be the reason that turn him into an helpless in love like the loser that I am. Maybe it is the red string theory or maybe it is the karma because I try to play in the Universe face but here I am proudly married to my first and last love. Is all thanks to him. He came back into my life, while I was starting to date around (tears of disappointment are making their way on your cheeks. You are so disappointed that you almost fall into an old cycle because you could not handle the goodness of his love) again. Can’t believe  I told him to wait his turn. Can't believe I told him that he was not  the only one. Can't believe I told him that it will pass. People always love me before I become too much and other times I destroy it  myself before it can destroy me. In all seriousness, I think I first ran away because I was scared of the pain that was going to come when it would all fell apart, like it usually does. How fucked of me to think so lowly of our union at first ? My sweet boy used to text me when drunk just to tell me how much loved me. How much he loved my brown skin, my curly hair and my curves and if he could he would ditch his boys and come hug me or just stare at me but he knows I need space and space is essential in a relationship. My sweet boy would ask anybody walking our way to take a picture of both of us so that if anything happens to him, he will not just remember to love me, but seeing both of us will show us how deeply he cared for me. My sweet boy has a parent with dementia which scar him, so he can't seem to go a day without writing me a letter, taking a picture or telling me ‘’I love u’’ . His words : ‘’ I will never forget to love you. You hear me ( your name), I will  forget how to breathe before I forget you’’. My sensitive baby is always so emotional. Never afraid of letting the tears flow. Always expressing to anyone who wants to hear him how much he loves me even when  the conversation has nothing to do with me ( ME: lol). It was so hard to make my way back into his family and friend group which I understood when I saw him again. He lost weight, he had such huge under eye bags and yet he called my name with much sweetness. I heard from  the grapevine, he drank so much more trying to make it hurt less and his friend would hide his phone because he would try to text me and call me. Which would end up with him sobbing (not u trying to keep it in… Is ok baby …). One day, I allowed him back. He asks for a hug, pleads for it,  promising that after that he would forever leave me alone. If that's what I wanted. I hugged him, cried, he cried, holding on strongly to me while comforting me and I promise myself to never ever let go again. 

(HIM: BABE … BABE … you can come out … I have a surprise for you. You can't answer because you are still crying and you don't want him to worry. HIM : (he knocks) Babe are u ok ? Can I enter ? Talk to me … baby ..; You open the door mascara running) 

Couple days before you let him see you again, you're going to make out with another boy. Claiming you are ready for something new. When the boy will try to make a move on your inner thigh, you will panic. I even think that you will kiss him, a loud voice in your mind will remind you how wrong it is. Also you are an amazing kisser but babe this is a very poor performance … I feel bad for the dude making out with you. Too much lips (is that even possible) and too much tongue. 

Your future husband loves kissing your whole body as a form of foreplay. Love caressing you, always checking up on you while sharing the intimate moment with you. Even when his inside you and your eyes are close, he makes sure that you feel good. He always checks your mannerism to make sure he isn't hurting you. Y’all dirty talking is more like love making affirmation. Is it not dirty or degrading, still very sexy but is more emotional than vulgar. 

Y’all were raised in different ways. You both have similar financial background but different parenthood. When I channel him, everything around him is orange and yellow. I can clearly see his friend and I can feel the love of his parents. There's a warmth that radiates from him. Also he grew up seeing his parents very much in love. The fact that their love survives the illness of one of them is like an ultimate confirmation that he wants the same for himself. He always wanted marriage, the house, kids and dogs, let's not forget the close group of friends. It will not surprise me if in one of his graduation speeches he commented, only really caring  about finding a wife. On your side is a light cold blue. Maybe your childhood bedroom was painted blue. The house is cold, so you may enjoy staying by yourself. Side note : U is very pretty. I know you may be tired of hearing that but babe your beauty is too strong for me to just move on. Actually for anyone to move on. Anyways back on track, your parents were never home busy with their career. Like you grew up on your own, no noise, lonely silence. Still very financially stable. Is not like they're working to keep a roof over your head. I think they told you multiple times in some way shape or form  that their career is more important than you. 

[r0manceplanet]

Hi iaaann if you’re comfortable can you write two time relationship headcannons😇😇!1!1! Im glad to see you posting!

A/N: Hey Lo! Yes, I can definitely write this for you :-) and thank you! And I hope you enjoy these :)

Also a little warning, this may or may not be OOC, I always try my best to make the characters as accurate as possible.

• oh boy where do I even start?? Well, I’ll have to congratulate you for being this fellas partner!

• You and Two Time would meet during one of the rounds, and you were new to it all, though they didn’t really talk to you much, I feel like you would most likely have to be the one to initiate it.

• They seem to be very closed off, and somewhat always on the edge. It’s always been like that before you would’ve came into the picture, after some time you would get them to step out of their shell more.

• And, once they’re comfortable around you, and after hiding they’re feelings for you, they would eventually decided to confess to you privately (since I feel like they wouldn’t want so much attention on the two of you).

• While you both are dating I feel like they would be wayyy more comfortable sharing who they are, and what problems they have (which I think we all know, so there’s no need to explain it).

• As for dates, they would definitely mostly be indoors like at home. I feel like they wouldn’t enjoy going out much at all, and if y’all were to ever go on a date outside of home then it would definitely be at more quieter places.

• Your relationship with them will be very calming and comforting, after some time waiting for them to confess it is so worth it, and don’t expect them to leave you anytime soon.

A/N: Ahhh I’m sorry if this is short 😭 I’m not used to writing the survivors lol, but feel free to request anytime!