#i hope this makes sense I’m half asleep right now

[missaengg]

A Magical First Christmas

Pairing: Zayne x f!reader Tags: mdni, fluffy smut, very little plot, established relationship, kissing, cunnilingus, dirty talk, praise Word Count: 2.1k Part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event hosted by @nanamiscocksleeve and written for the host, @nanamiscocksleeve!! I hope I did you proud, enjoy~ Merry Christmas! 🥰

You’re not trying to fall asleep. In fact, it’s the opposite, you want nothing more than to stay awake, not quite ready to put an end to the most magical Christmas of your life. 

In the back of your mind, you can still see the gorgeous lodge coming into view. Puffs of white smoke floating out of the chimney. A fresh blanket of snow covering the roof and the ground. The image of icicles hanging off the roof’s edge sparkling like crystals in the morning sun and the Christmas tree glittering in the window with white lights twinkling between the dark green branches still vivid in your memory.

It was the most perfect day — a surprise gift from Zayne to celebrate your first Christmas together — complete with a full day of skiing and a lovely dinner at the lodge restaurant.

You don’t want this day to end just yet. You want to enjoy this moment, savor it — not quite ready to say good night to the golden glow of the fire, the soft bed and the luxurious, silky sheets, and Zayne’s arms wrapped around you while your head rests on his chest. But you can’t fight it, the crackle of the wood fireplace too soothing, the warmth of his embrace too relaxing, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in your ear too comforting. Especially with your belly full of a delicious meal and mulled wine and the fatigue of today’s skiing session settling in your aching limbs.

“Are you falling asleep?” The deep rumble of his voice cuts through the cozy silence.

“No,” you utter, forcing your fluttering eyes open, desperately trying to fight the lull of sleep. You feel his fingers comb through your hair, the caress of his fingertips only making it harder to keep your drowsiness at bay.

“Liar,” he chuckles, the sound deep in his throat.

“I’m not lying,” you weakly protest, but your closed eyes say otherwise. You hear Zayne hum, an affectionate note of disbelief. “Really, I’m not.”

“It’s been a long day. You should sleep if you’re tired,” Zayne says softly, adding a teasing, “Doctor’s orders.”

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Do you want me to keep you awake?”

“Yes, please,” you mumble, half-asleep.

You don’t hear Zayne reply, though you’re unsure you would have even if he did as your mind drifts off to a place somewhere between here and the land of dreams. The next thing you know, you’re jolted awake. You’re flat on your back, blinking up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell just happened while Zayne looms over you, caging you between his arms. His face is inches away from your own, so close his nose just barely grazes yours and you can feel his breath warm your cheek.

“Zayne?!” you yelp, staring at him wide-eyed, all traces of sleep banished from your startled mind.

“You asked me to keep you awake, didn’t you?” he remarks with an amused chuckle.

“Wha—” Before you can finish, his lips are on yours, stealing the words right out of your mouth.

Zayne’s tongue traces the crevice between your lips, and out of habit, you part them ever so slightly allowing him to slip inside. With your eyes closed, your hands find their way to his shoulders and then around his neck. He takes your lips slowly… sensually… The musk of his cologne and the hint of mulled wine still lingering on his tongue cloys your senses, and your heart flutters in your chest, thrumming with pleasure. Your lips come together and pull apart in passionate increments, deepening every time they reunite. By the time he pulls away, you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you awake now?” Zayne asks, his eyes twinkling down at you.

Your lips purse together into a pout. “I wasn’t falling asleep to begin with.”

Zayne brings his head to your neck, grazing the flesh with his teeth, his breath hot on your skin. “What did I say about lying to me, darling?”

“I’m not!” you exclaim, shivering only to squeak when he bites down on that ticklish spot beneath your ear. “Zayne!”

“You know I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he purrs, gently sucking where it stings. “Now be a good girl and answer me. Are you awake now?”

A spark of electricity prickles down your body, and you shudder. You briefly contemplate whether you should dig in your heels, be stubborn, but his soft lips on your neck feel so good, you don’t want him to stop. “Yes,” you breathlessly accede. “I’m… mmm… I’m awake.”

“Good…” His mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in its wake. “...because I’ve wanted to do this…” He nips yet another ticklish point, swirling his tongue over the forming bruise. “...all day.”

You cling to him, involuntarily arching your back, one hand sliding up the back of his head where your fingers tangle through his hair. You can’t help the sultry moans that escape you or how you squirm as he continues to tease all the sensitive points of your neck. By now, any remaining tendrils of slumber have vanished, replaced by a wanton desire. You crave his touch, his caress, him.

“And because it’s Christmas…” he murmurs, his voice deep and throaty. “...I plan on taking my time unwrapping my Christmas present.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a thrilling anticipation building in your core. His knee comes between your legs, brushing against the apex, and a jolt careens through your body. You can feel your desire pooling, growing… A voracious hunger that can only be satisfied by him.

Zayne’s mouth continues its descent, ending only when it reaches your collarbone peeking out of your silk pajama top. His fingers slip through the opening, stroking the skin underneath and deftly undoing each button one by one. It feels hot every time they graze your skin, each graze sending yet another shiver through your flushed body. Each touch eliciting yet another charged gasp from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“I haven’t even started yet, and you’re already moaning so sweetly for me.” Zayne takes his time parting your open shirt, slipping it off one shoulder, then the next, down one arm, then the other. “I wonder what you’ll do when I do this…”

Your body spasms, a startled squeal flying out your mouth when Zayne’s teeth catch your nipple. You arch into him. Your fingernails dig into his back. Your fingers pull his hair. A hot wave of pleasure crashes over you, and a restless ache stirs deep in your abdomen.

“Zayne…” you hoarsely whisper, trembling and shaking as Zayne tastes your breasts, swirling his tongue over the peaks and massaging them with his large hand. 

“I love how you say my name,” Zayne groans. 

Pulling back onto his knees, he hooks his fingers under the waistbands of both your pajama pants and your underwear, sliding them down slowly. He takes his time, savoring the sight of you coming into view bit by bit. With every inch exposed, the heat in his eyes grows darker. More urgent. A dark heat that stokes a fire deep in your belly.

He places a hand on each of your thighs, parting them enough for his wide shoulders to fit in between, and he kisses your inner thigh, starting from the midpoint and working his way up dangerously close to where your arousal glistens. He slides a finger through your slick folds, grinning as he rubs his pointer and his thumb together.

“Someone’s eager for me,” he smirks. 

You feel your cheeks color because you know just how much of a mess you make merely being in his presence, let alone when he touches you like this, and from how much throb down there… you know just how much of a mess you’ve already made. His rapt attention makes you feel self-conscious, the way he takes note of every little detail while you’re so exposed.

Zayne returns his attention to between your legs, resuming his grip on your upper thighs. Lowering himself, he deeply inhales your scent, groaning as he does. “God, I love the way you smell.” His mouth encircles your clit, the tip of his tongue darting out and prodding the sensitive nub, massaging it in circles. “I love the way you taste.”

Each stroke of his tongue sends you reeling, a jolt of electricity sizzling up your spine as your muscles tense and you arch your back, your hips bucking against him. Breathless gasps leave your mouth in erratic spurts, and your fingers curl into the sheets, clenching the fabric as if your life depended on it. With just his mouth, Zayne has you seeing stars and crying out his name in strained mewls.

“Zayne, please…” you beg him, the stimulation too much, the desire to feel him inside you too big. You squirm, trying to find some relief from how he tantalizes you, but his grip holds you in place no matter how much you struggle. “Please…”

“No,” Zayne rasps, the timbre of his voice low and husky. “I’m taking my time today, sweetheart. I want to taste you, savor you, devour you. I’m going to worship you like the gift you are.”

He slips a finger in, and then another, curling them against the sweet, gummy spot that makes you squeal. He pumps them in and out while his mouth continues to ravish you, coaxing you into crying his name, moaning breathlessly for him. If you thought his mouth was enough to have you seeing stars, the addition of his fingers sends you into a feverish frenzy, all your senses overloaded.

“It’s t—too… much, Zayne,” you plead, “...ngh… to—too much.”

“You can handle it, love.”

But even as tears prick the corners of your eyes and your legs tremble, Zayne doesn’t stop, alternating between relentlessly bullying or worshipping you — sweet and rough, soft and hard — leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented and close… so close.

“Zayne…” you choke out, trailing off.

Zayne understands what you’re trying to say and before sucking down hard on your clit, he commands, “Come for me.”

Something about the commanding authority in his tone throws gasoline on the fire burning in your center. It blazes into an inferno, and as the heat overtakes you, you wretchedly call out his name, a guttural scream rising from deep within and exploding out your throat. You’re so consumed, you can barely feel his fingers dig into your flesh or his tongue find its way to your entrance and lap up every drop of your arrival. All you can do is shudder and quake, riding out each wave of ecstasy.

When the waves finally stop, you can barely breathe. Your chest heaves up and down, desperate for oxygen to fill its lungs, and you can’t stop quivering as if phantom waves still pulsate through your body. You watch through hooded eyes as Zayne sits back on his knees and wipes the remnants of your ecstasy off of his face. He leans forward, propping himself on his elbows and hovering over you, just enough that his body is flush against yours without crushing you with his weight.

He looks deep into your eyes, a primal yet tender gleam in their depths, and gently, ever so gently, he brushes away a sweaty lock of hair, tucking it behind your ear. “You did good,” he coos, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You wrap your arms around him, returning his little kiss with a little one of your own on the tip of his nose. “Merry Christmas,” you murmur, nuzzling your nose against him. “Thank you so much for making our first Christmas so special. I love it. I love you.”

“I’m glad you like it. I love you too.” Zayne brings his lips by your ear, and then whispers, “But, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

It’s at that moment, you realize how painfully hard his erection is digging into your pelvis and how the dark gleam in his eye has only grown darker instead of abating. You tremble once more, but this time, it’s from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the thrill of anticipation buzzing through your veins.

“Help me take off my shirt,” Zayne murmurs silkily in your ear.

You’re only happy to oblige, and as your fingers make their way to the line of buttons on his top, you can’t help, but think it’s going to be a long night though you have no complaints. In fact, it’s the opposite, you hope this night never ends.

[theramblingsofadork]

Midnight Thought: Do you think that Dr. Starline’s obsession with video logs became a thing because he wanted to feel like he was being heard?

Like, he started doing them as a way to keep track of his progress, but as the years progressed and he remained alone and isolated— (whether purposeful or not, due to his high intellect and fascination with Eggman) — they sort of became his way to vent, and have a ‘conversation’ with someone? Despite the fact that, in essence, he was only talking to himself and a camera?

(IDW Spoilers beneath the cut.)

I first thought about this when Surge made her comment about him *apparently vlogging so extensively* that he even makes videos about what he makes for breakfast.

While it may just be the tenrec being facetious, we do see quite a few logs across the IDW comics from Starline. And while most appear to be the typical ‘talk about your plans’ shtick, there are a few moments he also has some introspective thoughts, or visibly melts down.

To me at least, it doesn’t seem to be out of the realm of possibility that if Surge isn’t making it up, Starline garnered this habit of making a lot of video logs simply due to not being able to express himself or talk to anyone. Either stemming from his childhood being shoddy—(I imagine someone with his intellect/fascination would have had a hard time making friends)—or because no one else could deal with or understand his ramblings, both good and bad.

This exchange during his and Eggman’s final battle seems to feed into the whole idea even more. Starline definitely would have rambled excitedly to his idol about his inventions, seeing as Eggman would actually be the first to understand whatever scientific jargon he was going on about, and be the most likely to respond positively.

Sadly for Starline, he would still be ignored in the one way that mattered most to him, thus feeding back into this whole unhealthy search for approval and his vlogging loop again. (Y’know, if he had made it out..)

It’s entirely possible I’m looking too much into this, and Starline just really loves the sound of his own voice. But the nuances of how they wrote him give off this whole vibe that there is a possibility of this. And if that is indeed the case, then it’s just really dang sad.

I know he’s a great, horrible™ villain whom we all love to hate, but.. gosh dang it, this platypus gives me so many feels. 😭

[whereismyhat5678]

Ngl, I felt sick as fuck today so I decided to draw myself 😎😎✨✨

This is legit what I wear to school on a daily basis- A hoodie, pants and my go-to hat. (Also my glasses, I actually have two pairs. I draw my red iconic ones since they’re easier and I like wearing em’ more, but I also have these glasses that also act as sunglasses. I thought it’d be cool to add this in-)

Also

You know how cool it’d be if I actually had CHARISMA? Like, I got so much game I could pull BOTH genders? Nah man that’d be pretty cool- let me be a gentlemen and swoon ladies over, let there be a man that actually calls be pretty sincerely. THAT would be kickass if you ask me. 👀✨

Although you know my ass in reality is like this with people I like:

I mean I general with friends and aquientences(?) I’m fine with talking to them, it’s just I think I’m a tad bit more nervous around people who don’t talk to me, like a person that’s only talked to me a little- 💀

(I’m just gonna admit it I have no rizz, I talk big game but I actually have none, help 😭)

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

[theonottsbxtch]

FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY | OP81

an: happy birthday @iimplicitt everyone go and wish her a happy birthday! this is a little piece for you that will make you sadder that you're not in a relationship with oscar but it's a gift from me to you, ily <3

wc: 3.5k

The morning sunlight seeped through the thin, linen curtains, casting soft patterns on the wall, and she stirred, blinking her eyes open as she felt the familiar warmth against her back. Oscar’s arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, his steady breathing a gentle rhythm against her neck. She could feel his lips brushing soft, lazy kisses along her shoulder, the way he always did when he thought she was still asleep.

For a moment, she simply lay there, soaking in the quiet closeness of it all. The fresh scent of Oscar’s cologne and the warmth of his body made her feel safe, cherished. She allowed herself to close her eyes again, smile lingering on her lips as he tightened his hold just slightly, burying his face into her hair, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her arm.

It was her birthday.

She’d woken up with a flutter of excitement, the way she always had since she was a little girl. There was something magical, something undeniably special about the feeling of a day that was just yours. And now, waking up like this, wrapped up in the warmth and the love of someone who’d stolen her heart—that feeling should’ve been even stronger.

But as the minutes ticked by and he continued to kiss her in that quiet, thoughtful way he did each morning, not a single word was said.

Maybe he’s just distracted, she thought, feeling the slight tug of disappointment. After all, the season was coming to an end, and she knew how focused he got, especially in the days before a race. Formula 1 demanded so much of him, and she respected that. He’d been there for her in ways she hadn’t even dared to hope for, bringing more joy and care into her life than she could have ever asked for.

But... not even a whisper of "happy birthday"? Not a hint, not a knowing look in his eyes?

She felt him shift behind her, his hand slipping up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline with that same tender familiarity. His lips pressed gently against her neck, a sleepy hum in his throat. He felt so close, so utterly devoted, and yet...

He’s just busy, she told herself, letting out a soft sigh. It’s probably the last thing on his mind.

She sighed softly, stretching in his arms, and he pulled her a little closer, his lips brushing her forehead in that sleepy, casual way of his. His eyes were still half-closed, hair tousled, but there was a lazy smile on his face as he woke up with her.

“Morning,” Oscar murmured, voice rough with sleep, his thumb tracing slow circles along her hip.

“Morning,” she whispered back, trying to keep her tone as normal as possible. She didn’t want him to sense that she’d been holding her breath, waiting for him to say… well, something. A small “Happy Birthday, love,” maybe, or even just a knowing smile, some hint that he remembered. But he hadn’t. And it was clear now that he wouldn’t.

“So,” he yawned, shifting his legs under the blankets, “today’s kinda busy. Lando and I have this thing at the sponsor’s studio. Some shoot for a promo video, I think. They’re calling it an ‘inside look’ at race prep or something, but really it’s just us standing around talking, I’m pretty sure.” He chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “They’ve got us doing all this media stuff lately.”

“Oh, yeah?” she replied, forcing herself to smile. “You’ll be a natural.” She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, hoping he’d look at her, maybe even catch her eye and give her a hint that he hadn’t forgotten after all.

But Oscar only nodded, giving her a sleepy grin as he leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “And you? Got a day at the office, right?” he asked casually, as though it was any other day of the year. “What’s on your agenda?”

She took a breath, trying to keep her voice light. “Yep, just the usual. A couple meetings, and I’ll probably have to cover for someone at the desk. I’ll be out by five.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Sounds like a good day. We’ll both be back around the same time, then.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling faintly. “Guess so.”

She got out of bed, pulling her robe around herself and heading to the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection, trying to shove away the hollow feeling that was starting to settle in her chest. She should’ve been used to this by now, she told herself. Oscar’s schedule was demanding; he barely had time to stop and breathe some days, let alone keep track of something like a birthday. Besides, she knew he cared for her deeply—his warmth in the mornings, his texts at odd hours when he thought of her, all the small ways he showed her mattered so much more than one day of the year.

But as she brushed her teeth, tied her hair back, and headed into the wardrobe to pick out her work clothes, she couldn’t quite shake the disappointment. She wanted to laugh at herself for caring so much. It was just a birthday.

Yet the more she tried to pretend she was fine, the more her heart kept slipping. She threw on her blouse and slacks, fixing her makeup with hands that were just a little less steady than usual, and made her way back into the bedroom, where he was now scrolling through his phone, probably checking the texts from his manager.

“Have a good day, okay?” Oscar said as she slipped on her shoes. He gave her a small, warm smile as he leaned over, pressing one last kiss to her cheek, his hand resting on her shoulder as if to linger with her a moment longer.

“Yeah. You too,” she murmured, giving him a faint smile as she grabbed her bag, willing herself not to linger, not to let herself feel anything other than grateful for the morning they’d shared. She gave him one last glance, catching his gaze as he looked at her, that usual warmth in his eyes. And then she turned, heading out the door, whispering to herself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important.

The office was buzzing when she walked in. As soon as she stepped through the door, her coworkers greeted her with bright smiles, some even standing up from their desks to call out, "Happy birthday!" There was a small pile of gifts on her desk, wrapped in cheerful paper and bows, and a few balloons taped to her chair. She felt herself smiling genuinely for the first time that morning, warmth flooding her chest as she set her bag down.

“Oh my gosh, you guys,” she laughed, cheeks flushing as she picked up a card signed by everyone. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense!” her friend and desk-mate chimed in, appearing at her side with a cupcake topped with a single, brightly coloured candle. “You deserve all of this and more. We all know you make this place actually run.”

She chuckled, feeling the warmth and kindness radiating from the team. As she took in their gifts—a handmade scarf from the coworker who crocheted on her lunch breaks, a small box of her favourite teas, a lovely journal for her ever-growing stack of notes—she felt touched, genuinely happy. Her coworkers hadn’t forgotten; in fact, they’d gone out of their way to make her feel special.

But there was still that empty space in her chest. A quiet, lingering ache as she glanced at her phone, hoping to see a message pop up on her screen. Maybe Oscar would text her between shoots, or send her a voice message—just a quick “Happy birthday” or even a simple smiley face. Something that would tell her he’d thought of her.

Yet as the hours passed, her phone stayed stubbornly silent, aside from the usual work notifications and a few birthday messages from friends. She knew that he didn’t text much during the day, that his shoots and meetings usually stretched longer than he liked to admit. But part of her had hoped that, just today, he might make an exception.

At lunch, her friends surprised her with a small cake in the break room. They sang to her, a little off-key but with a lot of heart, and she found herself laughing along, feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such warmth and care. She tried to push aside her thoughts of him, to keep her mind off the absence of his message. He’s busy, she told herself, taking a bite of cake as her friends chatted around her. It’s not a big deal.

Still, every time she felt her phone buzz in her bag, her heart leapt, just for a moment, and each time, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of disappointment as she realised it wasn’t Oscar. It was as if her heart was doing a balancing act, teetering between gratitude for the people around her and that quiet ache that her mind kept insisting wasn’t fair to feel.

As she stepped out of the office and into the cool evening air, she felt the weight of the day pressing down on her. She’d kept a brave face, laughed at all the right moments, and soaked up every bit of love her friends and coworkers had poured into her. But now, alone with her thoughts, she felt the ache returning, stronger than before. She wanted nothing more than to go home, slip into a hot bath, and just let herself feel it all—the disappointment, the loneliness, the hurt she’d been pretending wasn’t there.

As she walked up to her building, she noticed his car wasn’t parked out front. Somehow, that felt like a small blessing. She was grateful for a few quiet moments to herself, to feel everything she’d been holding back all day.

The apartment was dark and quiet when she stepped inside, the air still. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and shrugged her bag off her shoulder, not bothering to turn on any lights as she made her way down the hallway. She was so drained, and all she wanted was the familiar comfort of their room, a place where she could let her guard down completely.

When she pushed open the door to the bedroom, though, she stopped short.

There, spread across the bed, was a beautiful assortment of gifts wrapped in elegant, colourful paper, with a cluster of balloons tied to the foot of the bed. She blinked, her eyes taking in the soft glow of fairy lights that had been draped over the headboard. Each balloon had a photograph attached—moments from their time together, candid shots from races, vacations, cosy evenings at home. Her heart clenched at the sight, an overwhelming mix of disbelief and relief filling her chest.

And then, as if on cue, Oscar stepped out from the closet, a tiny cupcake in his hand, a single candle flickering on top. His face was lit by the candle’s glow, a quiet, tender smile on his lips as he looked at her, his eyes warm and full of a love that nearly undid her.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, voice soft but full of so much feeling that it made her knees weak.

She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a shaky laugh, feeling a rush of emotions she could barely contain. “I thought… I thought you forgot,” she managed, her voice breaking as she took a step toward him, her hands trembling. “I thought you were too busy, that… that you didn’t remember.”

Oscar’s face softened, and he closed the distance between them, setting the cupcake on the nightstand as he reached out to pull her into his arms. “Forget?” he murmured, holding her close, one hand coming up to stroke her hair as she let out a small, choked sob into his shoulder. “How could I ever forget your birthday? I’ve been planning this for weeks.”

She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she finally let the tears fall, letting herself feel everything she’d been holding back. He held her tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, letting her release every ounce of doubt and hurt she’d felt throughout the day.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered between soft sobs. “I just… I thought maybe with everything going on, it slipped your mind. I didn’t want to feel that way, but I… I couldn’t help it.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing away a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his gaze filled with understanding. “I get it,” he said gently. “I wanted it to be a surprise, to make it perfect. But if I’d known it would make you feel like this…” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he held her close. “I would’ve done it differently.”

She shook her head, a tearful laugh escaping her. “No, this is perfect. It’s… it’s everything. I just didn’t expect it, and I guess I didn’t realise how much I wanted it.”

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve to feel special today. Every day, really. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

She smiled up at him, feeling the weight on her chest finally lifting as she took in the warmth in his eyes, the quiet thoughtfulness of every detail around them. Oscar reached over, picked up the cupcake, and held it between them, nodding toward the candle.

“Make a wish,” he murmured.

She looked at him, her heart swelling as she realised that her wish had already come true. But still, she closed her eyes, letting herself make a small, quiet wish before blowing out the candle.

When she opened her eyes, he was still looking at her, his own gaze soft and full of a promise she could feel without words.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing over the colourful wrapping paper, feeling almost shy with him watching her so intently. It was like every small, careful detail had been planned with her in mind, each gift waiting patiently for her to unwrap it.

The first package she reached for was a familiar shape—a shoebox. She unwrapped it slowly, her heart catching in her throat as she lifted the lid to reveal a pristine pair of black Dr. Martens. She laughed, a soft, delighted sound, running her fingers over the leather. “You remembered,” she murmured, looking up at him with a grateful smile. “I was saying just last week that mine were about ready to fall apart.”

“I know,” Oscar grinned, hands in his pockets as he watched her. “I was pretty sure you’d been trying to ignore the hole in the sole. Figured it was about time for an upgrade.”

She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest as she slipped the boots aside, reaching for the next gift. It was a neatly wrapped package, smaller and heavier, with an unmistakable shape. She tore away the paper, her breath catching when she saw the cover—the first book in her favourite series, one she’d read so many times that the copy on her shelf was practically falling apart. But as she opened the book, her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her fingers tracing over the author’s signature scrawled inside the cover, a small message addressed just to her. She flipped through the rest of the books in the series, each one signed with a personal note. “How… how did you manage this?”

Oscar sat down beside her, looking a little smug but mostly just pleased with her reaction. “You’ve talked about those books more times than I can count,” he said with a small shrug. “I figured I’d reach out to the author’s team, see if I could make it happen. Took a little convincing, but… worth it, I think.”

She looked up at him, eyes shining with gratitude and awe, feeling like her heart might just burst. “It’s… it’s perfect,” she said softly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He smiled, brushing a thumb over her hand as she picked up the final box, smaller and elegantly wrapped in deep blue paper. She carefully peeled it open, lifting the lid to find a delicate necklace nestled inside. It was simple and beautiful—a silver pendant with both of their initials engraved on it, entwined together in a tiny, subtle script. Her heart swelled as she held it up, running her fingers over the cool metal.

As she admired it, he reached up and pulled something out from under his shirt—a matching necklace, with the same delicate initials. The pendant hung just over his heart, a quiet, constant reminder of her that he must have been wearing all day.

Her chest tightened, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek as she took it all in, the thoughtfulness, the care he’d put into every detail. She reached over, cupping his face with trembling hands as her voice broke.

“You wore it all day,” she whispered, her heart so full she could barely speak.

Oscar smiled, reaching up to cover her hand with his. “Of course I did. You’re with me everywhere I go,” he murmured, his voice soft. “No matter how crazy the schedule, or how many days I’m away… I wanted you to know that you’re always with me.”

She melted, letting herself fall into his embrace, her head tucked under his chin as he held her close. She felt like everything she’d worried about, every bit of doubt that had crept in throughout the day, had simply vanished, replaced by a love so real and constant she didn’t know how she could have ever doubted it.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

He kissed the top of her head, his fingers threading gently through her hair. “I love you, too,” he said, holding her tightly, as if he’d never let her go. “Happy birthday, love.”

She pulled back from his embrace just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with warmth and gratitude. Oscar met her gaze, his hand lifting to brush a stray tear from her cheek, his fingers lingering softly on her skin. And then, without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between them as his lips met hers in a slow, tender kiss.

It was soft at first, a gentle, lingering touch filled with all the emotion of the night. But then his hand slid up to the back of her neck, pulling her just a little closer, and the kiss deepened, becoming something more—a quiet, passionate promise that said everything words couldn’t. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as she poured every bit of her love and gratitude into that moment, feeling his warmth surround her, grounding her in a way that only he could.

When they finally pulled back, breathless but smiling, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pressing one last soft kiss to her forehead. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let me run you a bath. You’ve had a long day, and you deserve to relax.”

But she shook her head, her hand slipping into his as she gave him a gentle smile. “No, not now,” she whispered, and he paused, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, tilting his head, his thumb brushing the back of her hand.

She smiled softly, tugging him gently toward the bed. “I just want to cuddle,” she said, her voice a quiet, warm confession.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and his expression softened as he nodded, his lips curving into a smile. Oscar climbed into bed with her, pulling the covers over them both as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She snuggled into his chest, her head resting just over his heart, listening to its steady, comforting rhythm as his hands traced soft patterns along her back.

They lay together in the quiet, wrapped up in each other, their legs tangled and their breaths in sync. He held her with a gentle strength, his fingers weaving through her hair as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was perfect, this quiet intimacy, as they sank deeper into each other’s warmth, finding solace in the simple, tender closeness.

“I don’t need anything else,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest. “Just this.”

Oscar tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing her temple. “Then this is exactly what we’ll do,” he whispered.

the end.

[mahyuume]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

synopsis. bakugou katsuki as your boyfren headcanons/scenarios!

genre. fluff, romcom lowk. | pairing. bkg x fem!reader (obvi) | mlist

req. bakugou x yn headcannons? - anon, 080224. reminders. this all takes place in UA timeline! :3 part 2 with timeskip prohero!bkg? maybe….

“For an extra like you, you’re not as half bad like the rest of these losers.” were one of the first words your amazing, strong, beautiful, handsome, and most importantly heroic boyfriend said to you when you both first started dating

Very, very lovely of him, No? Yeah. It wasn’t, but because it wasn’t super romantic, you laughed it off with him… more like you just laughing at his stupid statements and him basking in the sound of your laughter; which makes him smile. thinking about the natural melody sounding off of a cherished laugh he loves oh so much.

Speaking of your laugh, he loves it. Like, love, loves it.

He’s like ASAP rocky; he can hear you laugh from a whole mile away and turn his head around just to check if you’re near, while saying “The fuck was that? You heard that shit too right?” to one of his many best friends, specifically the one with the hardening quirk, just for kirishima to look at him weird and say no.

Bakugou thinks he has a weird spider sense when it comes to you, but in this case it’s called ‘yn sense’.

He wasn’t the one who made it up, it was obviously Denki and Mina, with a little bit of Sero in the mix. The trio noticed how your explosive boyfriend would always have an odd reflex when it came to you, which invented the ‘yn sense’, that only Katsuki Bakugou has.

And I’m talking weird but really observant reflexes. You feel a cramp coming up while training? He’s right behind you with his handmade heating pad (his own hand). Feel dizzy? One look at you and you don’t even notice how he got you prompted on his back so quick. Hungry? He already bought you your favorite meal last night and brought it with him ‘just incase’ (he says). You also don’t need to worry about your food being cold, like ever. Because he’d already have it warm it up for you.

Now, on the topic of food, it’s known he’s an amazing chef. You’d think he’s better than Gordon Ramsey or whoever you see on those professional cooking shows.

You once gave izuku money to buy a limited edition all might figure that was on the market, but in order to get the money, he had to put water in Katsuki's mouth when he was asleep. (he snores loud asf)

You both got burnt hair afterwards as a result.

Izuku still got the money as half of an apology.

hi guys! im so sorry for going ghost.. life has been sooo busy esp since school started again. these head canons are pretty short but just dragged out, I hope you guys like it! starting to do more requests again lol.. so sorry for the waiting! :(

[daisymbin]

promise me ice cream! - jeon wonwoo

warnings: slightly insecure wonwoo?

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: drunk confessions, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve 223 of yall following me but thank you 🥺

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

your best friend, wonwoo is sprawled on the bed, looking more like a puddle of drunk affection than his usual composed self. he's clinging onto you, he wedges your leg in between his own; hugging it like it was a bolster as his head rests on your lap as if it were a pillow, his arms wrapped around your leg, not wanting to let go as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his gaze is hazy, eyes blinking slowly as he stares up at you, his lips curving into a drunken smile, “you're so pretty.” he says as you chuckle while you run your hands through his hair; messaging his head a little to relieve the potential headache.

“why'd you drink so much tonight?” you asked, “its not like you, you're not usually like this.” wonwoo lets out a deep sigh at your question, “you were talking to jun all night and…i dont know, i just didn't like it. i got jealous. it's like…you’ll never pick me.” he says with a pout, eyes closing shut. “jealous? of jun?” you frown, trying to make sense of his words. if only he knew, “don't be silly, you know i talk to jun all the time but you'll always be my best friend. there's nothing to be jealous about.” you reassured. “& i’ll always pick you.”

“you're breaking my heart.” wonwoo mumbles so soft, you almost would have missed it if it weren't for a drunk wonwoo clinging onto you for dear life, heightening all your senses & leaving your heart beating so fast. “what do you mean, wonwoo?” 

"you’re my favorite person," he says, his voice soft and slow, like he’s trying to convince himself of something. "i don’t know if i’ll ever be your favorite, but... you're my favorite." his hand gently strokes the inside of your thigh, sending shiver down your spine. his fingers light against your skin as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of being this close.

you smile as you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. you’re a little amused yet also, a little taken aback by the way he’s acting; he's never been like this. you gently run your fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to sleep even though you're sure he’s already half asleep. & maybe you're also just taking advantage of the situation and being a little selfish; having him like this.

"i’m just me," he continues, voice drowsy and laced with alcohol. "i’m just wonwoo, you know? just regular, plain ol' wonwoo. but you're... you're perfect. sparkly. i don’t even know why you ever looked my way years ago, let alone be friends with me.”

you laugh softly, but it’s mixed with a hint of sadness, wondering how he could ever think that about himself. "you’re not just wonwoo, you know that, right? you’re more than that."

wonwoo shakes his head, but his grip on your leg tightens. "no, no, no. i’m just me. i’m just wonwoo, and you’re... you’re so pretty and you're so kind. you're such a good person...so much better than I'll ever be. that's why you would never like someone like me."

his words sting more than they should, but you can tell he's too drunk to mean them fully, right? that's what you hoped for at least. you want to tell him how wrong he is, how much you care for him, but instead, you sit in the quiet, letting him speak his mind as he clings onto you, his drunken ramblings the only thing filling the space between you two.

after a moment, he sits up a little, his gaze suddenly lighting up with a burst of energy. "ice cream," he says, as if it’s the most important thing in the world right now. "we should go on an ice cream date. right now. let’s go."

you glance at him, blinking in surprise at the sudden contrast. it’s already past 4AM and he’s drunk, this is not the time for an ice cream run date. "wonwoo," you say softly, trying to get him to focus. "it’s really late. we’re not going for ice cream right now, okay?"

he looks up at you with wide, sad, hopeful eyes, and you can’t help but find it endearing, even if it’s a little ridiculous. "why not?" he asks, his pout deepening, and his grip on your leg tightening again as he drags himself impossibly closer to you. "i want to go on an ice cream date with you, please?” 

you laugh, though it's full of affection and fondness. "wonwoo, you’re drunk & it’s really late. we’re not going anywhere. you can’t go out for ice cream right now, I don't think you can even walk straight, did you forget how I had to haul you back here?"

he pouts even harder, his lower lip trembling slightly & he almost look as if he’s about to start crying any time as he sits back and crosses his arms, looking like a grumpy child. "but i want ice cream. now. i’m hungry."

you can’t help but smile at his stubbornness. "we’ll go tomorrow, okay?" you promise. "i’ll take you out on an ice cream date tomorrow. I'll even let you pick all the flavours you want, even if its 5 of them."

wonwoo tilts his head to the side, staring at you with a suspicious frown. "tomorrow? don’t lie…i’m only asking you now because… this is a dream, you wouldnt reject me in my dream, would you?" he asks, his voice filled with doubt. "because i know you won’t really take me for ice cream tomorrow when I wake up. you don’t like me like that. you’re just humoring me."

"wonwoo, i promise, tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream," you reassure him, your voice gentle and warm as you stroke his hair again, trying to comfort him.

but wonwoo still looks disappointed and doubtful, his shoulders slump. "tomorrow will never come. this is all a dream. you’ll wake up, and i’ll be... i’ll be just me. plain wonwoo. i won’t be good enough for you. you will never pick me.”

your heart aches at the way he’s talking. he doesn’t believe that you like him, doesn’t believe in this moment, in the promise of tomorrow. "wonwoo, i’m not going anywhere," you say, taking his hand in yours. "i'll be right here when you open your eyes when the sun rises & i'll tell you all the reasons why you're more than enough. i really do like you, I love you, and tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream. i promise."

he looks down at your hand, still not fully convinced. "promise?" he asks, his voice small and fragile.

"promise," you say firmly, hands finding his as you lock your pinky around his.

wonwoo hesitates for a moment, then sighs, his expression softening. "okay...okay," he murmurs, closing his eyes as he rests his head back on your lap, your hands instinctively go back to playing with his hair, he's completely content now. "ice cream date tomorrow. i’ll wait for tomorrow...even if it doesn't happen it's okay..at least im laying on your lap now…at least you’re playing with my hair now…at least now i know what it's like to hear you say you like me too.”

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, watching him drift off to sleep in your lap. even though he’s drunk and unsure, you know he believes you somewhere deep down. & tomorrow, you’ll take him for ice cream, just like you promised. and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, he’ll realize how much you really do care about him, & how much you really do love him.

[amirasainz]

Lewis x daughter!Reader ( she is like a teenager) and the poor thing is sick. So instead of being a typical teenager, she needs her dad to take care of her, watch Barbie movies with her, braid her hair, .... Despite being worried for his daughter, Lewis loves that she wants to spend all of her time with him.

I hope that makes sense

Ahh, so cute. I am in love with this.

Enjoy reading and send me requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Moments Like These

The low hum of the rain pattering against the windows created a soft, soothing backdrop inside the cozy living room. Lewis sat on the couch, glancing at his phone and frowning at the time. He’d been out all morning for work, but his mind hadn’t left home once. YN, his 17-year-old daughter, had been sick for the past two days, and while it wasn’t anything serious, the stubborn fever and constant sneezing had turned her usual teenage energy into something much quieter.

He sighed, putting his phone away and glancing toward the hallway that led to her room. A part of him missed the usual chaos, the way she’d barge into the room talking about the latest drama with her friends or her plans for the weekend. But right now, she was curled up in bed, likely scrolling through her phone under her blankets, too tired to do much else. He hated seeing her like that. His protective instincts were on full alert, making him feel useless every time she coughed or sniffled.

“YN?” Lewis called out softly from the living room, hoping not to disturb her if she’d managed to fall asleep. There was a moment of silence before he heard a faint, muffled voice coming from her room.

“Dad…?”

He stood up immediately, abandoning whatever half-hearted attempt he’d made at distracting himself and walked toward her room. Pushing the door open quietly, he found YN bundled up in her bed, her head barely peeking out from under the covers. Her cheeks were flushed from the fever, and her normally bright eyes were heavy with fatigue.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked gently, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

She nodded, then shook her head. “Not really. Everything hurts,” she admitted, her voice slightly hoarse. She sniffled and reached for a tissue from the bedside table, blowing her nose with a miserable groan.

Lewis frowned, reaching over to place a hand on her forehead, brushing her hair away. “You’re still warm,” he murmured. “You need to rest, YN. Have you been drinking water?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t help,” she muttered, sounding as frustrated as she did tired. “I hate this. I feel gross, and I look gross.”

Lewis smiled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t look gross. You just look like someone who’s sick. It happens to everyone.”

“I’m not everyone,” YN grumbled, her voice still holding that teenage dramatic flair even through her exhaustion. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re still my favorite mess,” he teased gently, and YN rolled her eyes, though a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my dad.”

“True,” Lewis said with a small chuckle. He reached over to grab the glass of water from her nightstand, holding it out to her. “But you’re still drinking this.”

YN made a face but took the glass obediently, sipping it slowly before handing it back. “I’m so bored, Dad. I’ve watched everything on Netflix, and I don’t want to sleep anymore.”

He knew she was feeling restless. She’d been cooped up in her room for days, which wasn’t something YN was used to. Even when she was just at home, she was always moving, always chatting, always doing something.

“Well, I could braid your hair?” Lewis suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “Like when you were younger.”

YN’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, though she seemed amused by the idea. “You still remember how to braid?”

Lewis shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I wasn’t always this rusty. I did your hair for years, remember?”

She smiled a little, and that was enough to convince him.

“I mean… sure,” YN agreed, sitting up slowly and shifting so her back was to him. “It might make me feel better.”

Lewis couldn’t help but smile. He fetched the hairbrush from her desk and sat behind her, gently running the brush through her hair. He had to admit, it felt nostalgic in the best way. He could almost see the little girl she used to be, sitting in front of him, laughing and chatting about her dolls or some game she played with the neighbors. Now she was taller, moodier, and had her own world of thoughts and friends, but in moments like these, she was still his girl.

As he began braiding, YN’s voice cut through the comfortable silence. “You know… I was thinking. Maybe we could watch a movie together or something.”

Lewis paused for a moment, grinning to himself. “What kind of movie?”

“Barbie,” YN said without hesitation, turning her head slightly to glance at him.

He chuckled. “Barbie? Really?”

“Yes. Barbie movies are great, don’t judge,” she retorted, her voice carrying a mock warning.

“I’m not judging. Just surprised,” he admitted. “But hey, if you want to watch Barbie, we’ll watch Barbie.”

“Which one do you want to watch?” she asked, sounding a little more awake now, more engaged.

“Uh… I think I remember you really liking the one with the fairy princesses or something?”

“Dad,” YN groaned, though she couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. “You mean Barbie: Fairytopia.”

“Right. That one.”

YN laughed softly, though it turned into a cough, and Lewis immediately put the hairbrush down, patting her back gently. “Easy there.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, waving him off before leaning back again. “Let’s watch that one, then. I haven’t seen it in forever.”

Once the braid was finished, Lewis grabbed the remote, set up the TV, and the familiar opening tune of Barbie: Fairytopia filled the room. YN sank back into her pillows, looking much more relaxed now, her head resting against her dad’s shoulder as they watched together.

“Do you miss this?” YN asked quietly after a few moments.

Lewis glanced down at her. “Miss what?”

“You know… me being little. Like, before I grew up and stopped wanting to do stuff like this,” she said, gesturing toward the TV.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “I mean… yeah, I miss it sometimes. You were always running around, making me laugh, wanting to spend all your time with me. But,” he added quickly, “I love who you are now, too. I love that you’re growing up, that you have your own life, your own thoughts. I’m proud of you.”

YN’s expression softened, and she looked away, her voice quieter. “I miss it too sometimes.”

Lewis smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Well, you’re still here with me, sick or not. And for what it’s worth, I love having you around, no matter how old you are.”

YN didn’t respond right away, but she leaned into his side, and Lewis could feel the tension leaving her. The Barbie movie played on, filling the room with colorful animation and familiar voices.

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered after a while, her voice barely above a breath.

“For what?”

“For being here. For everything.”

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Always, kiddo.”

As the rain continued to tap lightly against the window, the world outside faded, leaving just the two of them—father and daughter, sick days and Barbie movies, and the unspoken comfort of knowing that no matter how much things changed, moments like these would always be there.

[a-aexotic]

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

[slytherinshua]

SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH

genre. fluff. warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread pairing. eric x fem!reader. wc. 951. request. no. a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it. net. @deoboyznet

“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”

You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…

As if.

“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.

“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.

“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.

“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s. 

“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.

“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.

“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing. 

“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.

“What if instead of walking—”

Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply. 

“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air. 

“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.

It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently. 

It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.

Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself. 

He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.

He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz

[katsu28]

hi kait!! finally found my way into your inbox, i feel like it’s been a tiiiny bit overdue 😭

i’d love to request writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random pages of their textbook, so that they will get a little endorphin boost when studying with oscar if that’s okay! (or max, if you wanna give a hand at writing for him)

liyah!!! you're right on time babe, thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun writing this and i'm hoping i did max justice <3

max verstappen x reader, 2k, a dash of google translated dutch lol. request something from here!

“Fuck!” 

Your forehead thunks down against your open textbook for what feels like the millionth time. You feel like you’ve been staring at the same page for hours, yet you still can’t seem to make any sense of what you’re looking at, and it makes you want to scream. 

Now don’t get it wrong, you love learning and you’re fortunate enough to be pursuing an advanced education, but it’s at times like these you wonder if it’s all worth it. There’s so much information to take in and not enough hours in the day to remember it all, and you’re running out of time before you have to take this godforsaken exam that could prevent you from moving to the next level of courses. 

No pressure, or anything, of course. 

“Careful, mijn liefje, you're too smart to be banging your head on the table like that.” Max’s voice rings out from behind you, and you’re too tired to even jump. You hadn’t even heard him let himself into your apartment, let alone sneak up on you. He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I don’t feel smart,” You huff, feeling his hands smooth along your shoulders. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot.” He replies, very as-a-matter-of-factly. His thumbs press into the knots at the base of your neck like he knows exactly where they are, rubbing slow circles. You don't see it, but he scans your surroundings with a furrowed brow as he massages your stiff muscles. 

The table around you is littered with things—crumpled papers, empty Red Bull cans, an entire stationery store’s worth of pens and highlighters, and most worryingly, your still completely full water bottle. If that sight is any indication, he can safely assume you probably haven’t left your place in this chair for a while. 

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I mean it from a place of love, but when was the last time you got some sleep?” 

“What? I dunno, like yesterday—wait, what day is it today?” 

Max presses his lips into a thin line. He’s never been one to worry too much about your studies, because you’re fully capable of keeping things in order yourself, but it might be starting to get out of hand. Now feels like a good time to step in and take matters into his own hands. “If you have to think that hard about it, it’s been too long.” 

Finally you look up at him, and boy is he right. You look utterly exhausted, even as you vehemently shake your head side to side. “I’m not tired, Max. I need to study.” 

“You’ve been studying for ages. What you need is rest.” 

“I can’t. I don’t have time for rest, I need to be ready for my exam,” You argue, already turning back to your textbook. Max crouches down next to you, blanketing your knee with a large, warm palm. His other hand eases the pen out of your grasp, fingers lacing with yours instead. 

“Please take a break, schatje. If not for yourself, do it for me.” 

One look at those pretty, pleading blue eyes of his and you cave, nodding defeatedly. “Maybe a little nap couldn't hurt.” 

Max nods enthusiastically, gently pulling you out of your seat and towards the hallway leading to your bedroom before you have a chance to reconsider. You’re leaning heavily against him, basically already half asleep as he guides you down onto the soft mattress as easily as he can. 

“Wake me up in twenty minutes, please,” You mumble, giving a sluggish tug at his hand. 

“Of course.” 

He won’t, but you don’t need to know that. Max will gladly take any consequences if it means you get at least an hour of rest, hopefully more. Your health and wellbeing is the most important thing to him. 

Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord mere seconds later, soft snores emitting from your mouth even before Max pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Not tired, my ass,” He chuckles under his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before exiting the room as quietly as he can. 

While you get some much needed sleep, Max organizes your study space a little, tossing away the cans and wrappers, plugging in your computer to charge, then moves onto the kitchen and cleans up in there too. 

The living room area is next on his checklist; blankets get folded and put back in their rightful spots, and windows get opened because he won’t lie, the air smells a little stale in here. He figures a complete reset and a neat area might help ease your mind when you wake up. 

As he surveys his tidy job, his eyes land on your open textbook, then the massive stack of multicolored post-it notes next to it. He might not be able to help with the studying part, but there is something he can do about keeping your spirits up while you work on the former. 

He settles himself into your chair, hunching over at the desk as he scribbles notes to you. Encouragements, affirmations about how bright you are and how proud he is of you, dumb jokes to hopefully make you laugh, even his best shot at the little cute doodles you draw for him on the whiteboard of his driver’s room whenever you’re in there waiting for him. Obviously, they’re nowhere near as good—Max has never claimed to be much of an artist—but hopefully they’re enough to give you a little mood boost during your study sessions. 

Being careful to mark your spot, he scatters the sticky notes randomly throughout the crisp pages. 

You rouse from your sleep hours later, barely able to get a word out before Max ushers you to the bathroom to relax in the hot bath he’s drawn for you. Despite your protests, you sink into the nearly scalding water (which is just the way you like it) with an appreciative sigh.

Only once you’re fresh and clean and thoroughly pampered by your boyfriend does he let you come back to where you were when he first found you earlier today. But it looks different. It’s not a mess anymore. Upon glancing around the rest of the place, you can tell that he’s done quite a bit whilst you were passed out. 

“Did you…clean my apartment while I was asleep?” You ask in bewilderment, taking in the neatly organized space with wide eyes. It even smells fresh, lemony and bright and not at all like the despair of an overworked twenty something year old student during exam season. 

“Yep.” Max says simply, popping the ‘p’. 

“Why?” You’re not mad in any way, shape or form, just simply stunned. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you and Max just shrugs like it’s no big deal. His nonchalance still takes you aback sometimes. 

“Thought it might help. Anyways, you get one hour to study, then you’re taking a break even if I have to drag you away from that book myself,” He warns, pinning you to the spot with a stern glare. “I’ll be in the other room, but I have a timer on, so don’t even try to pull one over on me. One hour. Call out if you need anything.” 

He kisses you firmly on the side of your head and then he’s gone, leaving you alone to hit the books once more. 

Slumping into the chair with a groan, you shake your head not unlike a dog would, flipping open your book again to where you’d left off. Your head feels a little clearer now, a little less foggy now thanks to Max’s efforts, and you’re hoping it’ll make a difference. 

Your gaze is immediately drawn to a bright green sticky note a few pages later, off in the side margins. It isn’t one of your notes though, but rather Max’s tiny handwriting, an odd mixture of lower and uppercase letters spelling out a message. 

You’re doing an amazing job. Keep pushing!

Before you know it, you’ve flipped through the entire book in your search of more notes from Max, your grin only growing bigger and bigger with each one you find. 

Why don’t dinosaurs talk? Because they’re dead. 

I’m proud of you for making it this far. You’re so smart. 

What are Sassy and Jimmy’s favorite day of the week? Cat-urday. 

If you find this one, we’ll go to Bora Bora during summer break. 

That last one is tucked in the back cover, signed and dated by him. You plan to keep it as undeniable proof when the time comes, though you suspect he won’t try to deny it. He’d be happy to whisk you off to any place you wanted if you asked. 

Every single one of his notes makes you grin like an idiot, but his attempts at drawing his cats are your favorite ones of all. It takes you a few moments to understand what exactly you’re looking at, but when you squint at what could be the outline of Sassy’s ears, it makes you actually laugh out loud. 

Warmth spreads from your head to the tips of your toes at the thought of Max taking the time to do all this for you, even though he really didn’t have to. When you think about it, he’s always been this way—showing that he cares through his actions. Taking care of his loved ones without having to say a word. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

Like always, Max is true to his word. One hour later on the dot, he marches back in with gusto. 

“Alright, break time! Let’s go get some food. Lando keeps waffling on about some Greek place that’s apparently super popular and the best he’s ever had, if you don’t mind—” He stops mid sentence and mid stride at the sight of you staring back at him. You’re not smiling, but you also don’t look angry. It’s actually a little unsettling, really. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You barrel into Max with enough force to make him stumble backwards a few steps, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He lets out a soft noise of surprise at having to catch you all of a sudden, one that is quickly stifled because your lips are on his now, and you’re kissing him the same way you do when he comes home after a triple header and you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

The kiss is short, but teeming with emotion. Love, appreciation, gratitude—you kiss Max with everything you’ve got, and when you pull away he looks pleasantly confused. 

“What was that for, schatje?” He chuckles, smoothing a hand up and down your back. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Everything.” You mumble, pressing your face into the softness of his jumper. Another laugh rumbles through him, fonder this time. 

“Everything.” He repeats. You nod against his chest, and he knows what you’re trying to say, even if you’re not saying it. He sighs contentedly, nestling his chin over the top of your head. 

You’d stay like this forever if you could, if neither of you had things to do and places to be. Just you and your Max, who knows you so well you don’t even have to tell him what you need. And what you need right now is food. 

Max rocks you side to side, voice light as he ponders the options, because he just knows what you’re thinking already. “If we hurry, we could probably still get a table before the Greek place closes. Or maybe not, but I’ll pay them extra to stay open for us.” 

“I like the way you think, Maxie.” You beam, kissing him again. A little too quickly for his liking, but he doesn’t mind. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel is secretly in love with Tommy’s girlfriend and comforts her while his brother is in jail.]

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself.

Angst fluff protective Joel

Note: story inspired by @dancingtotuyo High Infidelity Series!

Eleven o’clock at night and here you were standing in front of Joel’s front door. Calling his cell with tears in your eyes hoping he would still be awake when thankfully the sound of his voice appeared on the other end.

“Hello”

“Joel? It’s me-“

“What’s wrong? Everything alright?”

“I um- I’m at your front door. I know it’s late but-“ before you could finish your sentence Joel quickly unlocked the door with a look of concern although he already knew why you were there.

“I’m sorry” you hung up your phone as you tried to explain what was going on.

“Tommy got arrested again and they’re not letting him go and-“

“Why didn’t cha call me? It’s late, I woulda gone to get you” he led you inside as you shook your head.

“I know Sarah’s asleep and he didn’t want me to tell you but I didn’t know what else to do” you sighed as you brushed your hands through your hair.

“The hell he do now?” Joel was growing tired of seeing how upset his brother was constantly making you. Every month there was something new that got him in trouble with the law yet he never seemed to learn a lesson.

“He got into a fight and used a knife and-“ you covered your face hiding your tears.

“The guys in the hospital but in critical condition and he’s just out of control-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“Alright, alright take a deep breath. Here take a seat” he grabbed a chair beside him quickly placing it next to you. Wiping your tears away you sat down as Joel sat in front of you leaning forward.

“Hey, look at me” unexpectedly Joel grabbed your hand, his deeps eyes giving you some kind of sense of peace.

“He’s gonna come out like he always does and everything’s gonna be fine, ya hear me? And the second he’s out, I’m gonna beat his ass” Joel tried to get you to laugh, a half a smile appearing on your lips.

“There she is” he whispered, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked into yours.

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself. You seemed to be the complete opposite of him, while he was the trouble making hothead, you were shy, sweet and just trying to get him on the right path.

“I’m gonna call the sitter and you just sit tight, we’ll get goin’ in a few”

“But Tommy didn’t want you to know, he’s gonna get upset with me”

“Listen sugar,” Joel still held your hand in his.

“What Tommy says don’t go when his woman is out alone late at night tryin’ to fix things for him. Don’t worry, I’ll take the heat” he winked at you before getting up and calling Sarah’s babysitter.

The ride to the station had you on edge, reality not exactly feeling like reality in that moment. Tommy knew you were twelve weeks pregnant, yet it didn’t feel like he was taking it seriously. A wave of nausea hitting you making you quickly roll down the window causing Joel to look over at you.

“You alright?”

“Yes” you took a deep breath, you were far from alright.

Once arriving you sat down at a table while Joel stood behind you when Tommy was led into the room. The first sight of Joel and you knew Tommy was pissed, you didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself.

“Tommy-“

“God dammit, I ask you not to do one fucking thing-“

“Tommy she was worried” Joel quickly defended you.

“Besides, you expected her to travel all this way at this time alone? You should know better than that, brother” Tommy looked at you, a glimpse of remorse as he noticed just how upset you were.

“Tommy, this needs to stop” you whispered.

“Look, the guy came at me first-“

“You promised me there would be no more of this” you tried not to cry as Joel silently watched.

“Well I’ll be out of here soon and things will be better-“

“You’re not going anywhere, Miller” a cop walked in through the door with a paper in his hand.

“The man you stabbed just died, you’re looking at a manslaughter charge” you gasped placing your hands on your lips.

“Oh god” you stood up feeling queasy all over again, cold sweats rushing through your body.

“It was self defense!” Tommy yelled angrily as you felt your world spinning.

“God dammit, Tommy” you unexpectedly yelled slamming your hand on the table.

“The hell was I suppose to do?! Be a sucker?!” Tommy yelled back making you almost throw yourself at him until Joel caught you with an arm around your waist pulling you back.

“You selfish prick!” You screamed.

“Oh I’m selfish?! Am I really? Or is it you?!”

Once again angrily you threw a paper at him as Joel pulled you back again. The nerve of him to say all these things knowing the chaos he has caused.

“Go wait in the car” he whispered as Tommy continued to yell angrily.

“Go” Joel repeated before you finally walked out the door crying.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Joel snapped at him once you left.

“Oh please Joel, don’t give me this crap now”

“You got this woman constantly worried about you, tryin’ to help you!” Joel was angry and his brother could see it.

“Yeah well she don’t have to” Tommy shrugged stubbornly.

“She damn well shouldn’t, you sure as hell don’t deserve it” Joel spoke low before walking out leaving Tommy to think over his actions…or at least hoping he would.

Silently getting in the car Joel reached over placing his hand on your thigh. He didn’t have the words but he knew that look, you were fed up. Joel had seen his brother push away many women but with you it was different.

There was silence for some time, you leaned your head on the window as Joel took a deep breath.

“Im sorry my brother can be such an ass sometimes” as he spoke another wave of nausea hitting you, this time worse than before.

“Joel stop the car” you covered your lips with your hand quickly opening the door the second he stopped and ran to the grass.

“Shit” Joel whispered before rushing out beside you. Leaning forward you felt Joel grab your hair out of your face as you struggled to let anything out.

“You alright?” You slowly stood up straight and nodded, wiping your lips with a paper you had.

“Been a rough night” Joel continued, figuring that’s what made you sick before you shook your head.

“Joel….” You sighed figuring you should tell him the truth.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered without looking his way. He stood still for a moment looking at you in disbelief. Joel didn’t understand why in that moment he felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

“Does he know?” He asked low. You quietly nodded.

“God dammit Tommy” Joel whispered looking away, the fact that his brother knew you were pregnant and still let himself get into more trouble pissed him off.

“So he knew this and he asked you to travel here alone this late” Joel shook his head.

“We should get back, incase Sarah wakes up wondering where you are” you walked to the passenger seat not realizing Joel was behind you as you climbed in making sure you could get in safely until you sat down and noticed him beside you.

“I’m ok, Joel. Really” you smiled before he nodded and closed the door. Tommy wasn’t a bad man, but there were many differences in the two. Tommy had his ways of being a gentleman when you least expected it but for Joel, it was an automatic thing without thinking, even more so now knowing you were pregnant. You could already feel the difference in his actions around you the second he found out that you were pregnant. You wished Tommy had been this way with you.

“How far long are you?” Joel asked with his eyes on the road.

“I’m about to be thirteen weeks” your voice cracked making Joel look over at you to find you with tears looking down at your lap.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. You ain’t alone in this, you’re family” you appreciated Joels words but the truth hurt too much to ignore.

“Tommy..Tommy didn’t want this…..that’s why I’m the selfish one like he said in there” you wiped away a tear.

“I’m selfish because I want to keep the baby”

Joel frowned looking ahead as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. If his brother was in his face right now it would be Tommy’s face that would be dealing with his tightened fist. Tommy was so lost in his ways he had no idea how lucky he was to have a woman like yourself, how lucky he was to have you as a mother to his child. Tommy took you for granted and this only pissed off Joel. You looked over and noticed him lost in thought, his jaw clenched, you wondered what he was thinking.

“Seems like he’s the selfish one, ain’t he” he uttered low as you looked straight ahead.

“I have an appointment tomorrow-“ Joel quickly looked at you.

“You got someone who could go with you?”

“It was suppose to be Tommy, but of course-“

“I’ll go with ya”

“Joel no, you don’t have to. You have your own life and-“

“Give me a time and I’ll figure it out” you sighed knowing Joel wouldn’t give up, must’ve been a Miller thing.

“It’s at ten in the morning”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up at 9:30 and we go”

You had to admit, having company for this was definitely something you needed, you were now less anxious about the whole thing.

You hadn’t properly slept in days and you could feel your eyes growing heavy, before you knew it you had drifted off to sleep as Joel continued to drive.

“How ya feelin’?” He suddenly asked before looking over and realizing you had fallen asleep. Although he was supposed to drive you home the thought of you alone this upset didn’t sit well with him.

Once arriving to his house Joel carefully carried you out of the car, your head laying against his neck as he carefully made his way in.

“Mr.Miller” the sitter stood up rushing to help him with the door as he came in.

“You go on home, I got it from here. Thank you for coming on such short notice” Joel gave her a nod before walking towards his bedroom.

Gently he lay you down on his bed, your shoes slowly taken off before he slid your legs under the blanket. For just a moment you seemed so peaceful, a soft moan coming from you as you turned your head the opposite way.

“Tommy?” You whispered half asleep.

“Tommy, come to bed” you reached out for his hand as Joel took hold of it and very carefully lay down on the edge of the bed. Moving closer to Joel you lay your hand on his chest and took a deep breath as he delicately placed his hand over yours.

“I love you, Tommy”

Joel swallowed hard, his hand gently brushing hair out of your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead…for just a moment Joel felt like you were his..

[luveline]

hiii jade, hope you're having a lovely day/night <3

can i request sirius comforting r after a hard day of studies? maybe with some good ol' domestic fluff?

it's exam season at my school and my world is getting absolutely rocked

thank you for your request <3

“You look tired.” 

“That’s not very nice, is it?” you ask, no maliciousness in your tone nor sarcasm. You sound as sapped for energy as you look, shoulders aching profoundly in a line down your entire back, your eyes sluggish from a day spent reading, and testing yourself, and then reading again. 

Sirius leans against the doorway. He’d been waiting for you when you got here at the time you’d promised, and here he remains looking at you like he might want to eat you or, at least, give you a kiss. He puts his arms behind his back and a slip of his stomach flashes under the cropped length of his t-shirt, exposing pale skin and a threading of dark hair. 

“Too tired for manners,” he says, clocking your ogling. 

“You flashed me. You’re a flasher.” 

You’re too tired to stand there flirting, letting the bag that hangs on your shoulder slip to your elbow, and knowing already that Sirius will take it from you. He proves your anticipation correct, closing the small gap between you to grab the strap. 

It’s his kiss you aren’t expecting. Sirius takes your shoulder in his opposite hand to keep you still, his chin ever so slightly raised as he presses his lips to your forehead. You indulge the both of you and let yourself tilt forward. 

“Did you take lots of breaks?” he asks. 

Not really. “Yeah. I’m tired.” 

“I know,” he says sympathetically. “No more tonight. Let me take you inside.” 

Sirius begins a half-dragging of sorts, ferrying you into his flat and on to his bed. Sirius is a loving guy, even if he’s hard to understand sometimes; you can’t work out how he’s feeling right now, but you can sense the tenderness in his hands as he unties your shoelaces and pulls your shoes from your feet. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t question you anymore about your day, and many might label him uncaring but he’s too busy trying to get you feeling comfortable to ask.

He pulls your hoodie carefully over your head so as not to jostle your chin, unfastens your belt and unbuttons your jeans. Then he pushes his arms under yours and carries you to the top of the bed (not carry, really, but manhandle seems too rough a word). “Okay?” he asks.

He looks you in the face. He really, truly cares. It would be startling if you didn’t know him well already. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Can I have a glass of water?” 

He nods softly. “You can take your jeans off without me? I’ll get you something with less buttons to change into. And some biscuits.” He’s halfway down the hallway when he adds, “Or I can forget the thing with less buttons.” 

You burrow into his white sheets and breathe in deeply. They smell like his shampoo, a consequence of his tendency to sleep with wet hair, but they’re perfectly dry under your cheek, and terribly smooth. You rub your nose into his pillow as you relax for the first time all day. For a few seconds the cacophony of lecture slides and textbooks melts away, because you’re here in his bed with your boyfriend so eager to take care of you. 

His hand where it lands on your back only cements this. “Don’t fall asleep, please. I just need ten minutes to make sure you’re alright.” 

“I’m okay.” You pull your face up. “Did you bring me a biscuit?” 

“Brought you everything I promised,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw chastely. “I know it’s hard right now, but it’s not forever. You’re doing well. In a month we’ll be spending our Saturdays entirely in bed. You won’t have jeans on for a minute.” 

You sigh happily. “Will you take them off for me? Too tired.” 

He takes them off, and he pulls the blanket over you murmuring about the cold before he lays next to you with his arm over your back to ask in whispers about your day. Your answers come in dribs and drabs, so tired you forget the water you’d wanted or his promised biscuits. 

You fall asleep under his touch. He kisses your squished nose.

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[pupkashi]

nightmares

satoru has nightmares, but so long as you’re there he knows he’ll be okay

a/n: hi friends ! here is some comfort that our favorite sorcerer desperately needs <3 i hope you guys like this and thank u for the request !

wordcount: 1,115

masterlist

satoru was a deep sleeper, and despite facing horrifying and haunting curses day after day, never once did it bother his sleep schedule. he had never once had nightmares about the things he had grown so used to facing, until after his battle with sukuna.

“this is it for you, gojo satoru” the curse smirked, satoru was exhausted, he’d been fighting for hours now and he didn’t know how much more he had left in him. “I’ll tell that lover of yours you didn’t care enough to make it home to them,” the words making him want to get up, to keep fighting.

but his body was heavy and he couldn’t move, and he tried and tried and tried, but the king of curses only smiled down at him wickedly, “so much for the strongest,” he laughed, the sound making his ears hurt, sukuna’s cursed energy surrounding his hand as he swung it at his face.

satoru shot up quickly, a thin sheet of sweat covering his forehead as he tried to steady his breathing.

“‘toru? what’s wrong?” you mumble, still half asleep as you sit up next to him, hand fumbling across the nightstand and flicking the lamp on. “you okay?”

you’re rubbing your eyes, hair still a mess as you finally open them, taking in satoru’s frantic expression. his chest is still rising and falling rapidly and the expression on his face gives you all the answers you need to know.

“sorry i didn’t mean to wake you up” he sighs, his large hands rubbing his face, “let’s go back to sleep.” you frown at his words, not bothering to turn the lamp off as you stare back at him.

“you had a nightmare didnt you,” it was less of a question and more of a statement. you could make out the bags under his eyes, his once sparkling eyes looked a little dull as he forced a smile on his face.

“i don’t have nightmares,” he scoffs, and his chest hurts a bit as soon as the lie leaves his mouth. you don’t say anything as you turn the light off, laying back down and watching as satoru does the same.

he’s quiet as he lays down, his back facing you, eyes wide as he tries to steady his heart.

i won, im safe, you’re safe, i’m home.

the words rattled in his brain, repeating them over and over softly. his eyes fluttered shut for a second, flashes of the battle filling his mind as soon as he did. ‘so much for the strongest.’

his eyes shot open again, the familiar sight of your shared bedroom not bringing the comfort he hoped it would.

you hadn’t taken your eyes off him since he laid down, and your heart ached as you watched his unsteady breathing. talk to me, turn around, anything. you’re sure it’s been over ten minutes when you scoot a bit closer, your hand ghosting over his waist for a second before finally placing gently on him.

there’s a relief that washes over you when you make contact with his skin, a silent sigh leaving your lips as your thumb rubs gentle circles into his side.

satoru tenses for a second, the familiar feeling of your palm calms him, and he can feel his heartbeat finally steadying. there’s a sense of serenity as he feels you scoot even closer to him, your legs nudging his and tangling the limbs together.

he doesn’t say anything. not when your breath is tickling his neck and your arm sliding around his waist, pulling him gently to press his back against you.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, your words are a gentle assurance to him, “you’re okay, angel boy.”

he blinks away the tears forming in his eyes, letting himself relax for the first time since then. you can see his shoulders fall a bit, and you can physically feel his muscles relax under your touch.

you’re okay, he’s home.

“sorry,” he mumbles, his voice weaker than he’d ever want it to be. he can picture the scowl on your face as you smack his gently.

“why are you apologizing? you don’t need to apologize” you remind him, “I’m always here for you pretty boy.”

he can’t help but smile a bit when you squeeze him a bit tighter, your lips pressing feathery kisses on his shoulders. he feels safe, he feels at home in your arms.

there’s a beat of silence before he’s finally turning around and facing you, his messy white hair covering his eyes a bit. you don’t miss a second as your hand reaches out to brush it out of his face, your fingers running through his hair and settling on the back of his neck.

“I’m the strongest, i shouldn’t be like this,” he mumbles, not daring to meet your eyes.

you bite your tongue, going through your words for a second before finally pulling his head into the crook of your neck. satoru doesn’t fight you, melting into your touch as he nuzzles himself further against you.

“you’re satoru gojo before you’re anything else,” you sigh, “you’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay to get emotional,” the press of your lips against the top of his head is enough to make his worries disappear.

you don’t say anything else, opting instead to let your actions say what you couldn’t. you’re holding him closer, running your hands up and down his back soothingly, whispering occasional sweet nothings.

there’s no telling how long you stay that way, only trying to move when your arm is falling asleep.

“toru my arms asleep,” you giggle, expecting him to grumble and move, but nothing happens. “toru?”

the only reply you get is a soft snore. your crane your neck a bit, satoru was fast asleep nuzzled against your neck. his brows weren’t furrowed and looked peaceful for the first time since his return.

you smile softly at him, heart fluttering as he instinctively pulls your closer to him when you wiggle a bit.

“goodnight, angel boy,” you whisper, letting your eyes close, grateful to have your lover home.

you didn’t mind that your arm was asleep and your whole body would probably hurt in the morning. you didn’t care that his soft snores and gentle complaints next to your ear would probably wake you throughout the night. all you cared about was him finally getting the sleep he deserved.

and when you wake up the next morning, and he’s smiling sheepishly up at you, telling you how much he loves you and pressing playful kisses all over your face, you’re prepared to do the night over everyday for the rest of your life.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[sun-kissy]

hellooo, hope you’re doing well! could you write a hurt/comfort for poly!marauders with dhampir reader, specifically the headcannon where Remus and reader go on walks and talk about their insecurities regarding their identity. reader talks about their immortality and that they fear the day the marauders are gone, maybe James and Sirius come in and comfort reader? Idk just make it as painful as possible, thank you sm!!

aaaa yes!! thank you so much for the request babe <3 this is my first time writing a poly!marauders fic, so i hope i got the dynamics right :, )

for anyone wondering, the headcanon the anon was referring to can be found here

alone | poly!marauders

tw: two mentions of sex, but absolutely nothing explicit

half-vampire, half-witch!reader, poly!marauders x reader

“Dove,” Remus breathes, a false picture of calmness even though concern seeps into his tone. “Deep breaths, please. Deep breaths for me.”

His thumb continued to apply gentle pressure between your shoulder blades as you sit there, red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Remus thinks he can feel his heart breaking everytime you sniffle, the pitiful sound from deep inside your chest.

The two of you sit by the black lake, the moon lighting up the space. This was almost a weekly occurrence; both of you pulling yourselves out of your other two boyfriends’ sleepy embraces to sneak out and sit together on the expanse of grass.

You’d talk about the blood-thirsty monsters haunting parts of you till the sun started to rise, and fall asleep holding each other’s hands. The next morning, you’d wake up on the grass wrapped in James’ arms with Sirius peppering kisses all over your faces, and everything would be alright again.

This time was different, though; Remus knew it, and he was sure that by some form of instinct, James and Sirius would be able to sense it too despite the distance.

You were absolutely distraught, and he had no idea why. The two of you were sitting in silence when you broke down all of a sudden, and now he was desperate to make you smile again.

He was right — soon enough, the shuffling of leaves and poorly concealed whispers could be heard behind you.

“I told you something was wrong!”

“What? What’s wrong? The only thing wrong here is that they’re getting cosy without us!” Remus can hear Sirius grumbling, unable to stop a small smile from curving his lips despite the situation.

“Pads! She’s crying,” James huffs quietly.

Within seconds, Sirius rushes to crouch down in front of you, his eyes wide with panic. His eyebrows are bunched in concern, mouth set in a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice coming out shriller than he intended to.

You tense and shrug noncommittally, gaze fixed on the ground as you try to blink away the tears blurring your vision. He softens slightly upon seeing the look on your face and gently takes your hands.

Sirius opens his mouth to speak again but James holds a finger to his lips, a silent plea to let you be. He rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth closed, starting to rub your palms with his thumbs.

James looks at Remus quizzically for an explanation, to which he shrugs — he had no idea what had triggered you so terribly. James sighs, and you feel his warmth instantly as he sits down beside you.

“Hi angel,” he murmurs, turning to you with a small smile. He reaches out and brushes a few strands of hair off your face, and you find yourself involuntarily leaning into his touch.

“Hello,” you mumble.

James feels his heart sink at the sound of your defeated voice, and he can tell how much effort it was taking you to hold back tears. “Can you tell us why you’re upset?”

“I… I don’t—“ you warble, “I’m fine, really.”

It takes all of Sirius’ willpower not to roll his eyes at your blatant lie. “Love, you’re crying. Just spit it out.”

Remus and James both turn to glare at Sirius, but he just shrugs and eyes you impatiently. Apparently, Sirius’ goad was all you needed to get you started. “I was just…. I don’t wanna be alone,” you croak pathetically.

Remus’ ministrations on your back still immediately, completely abandoning his project as he drops his arm to the ground. Sirius furrows his eyebrows, looking at you strangely as though you were some sort of crossword puzzle.

“Alone?” James echoed, pouting with puzzlement. “What… what do you mean, alone? You have us, sweetheart. We’re never leaving you.”

“Yeah,” Sirius pipes up, gently lifting one of your hands to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“But you are,” you insist, and James can hear the desperation in your voice. He tugs you closer to him, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder silently.

“Why would we ever leave you?” Remus speaks up softly, lifting a hand to gently comb through your hair. “What did we do to make you think that we would?”

“It’s not— you guys didn’t—“ you let out a frustrated sob, roughly raking your fingers through your hair. There was no easy way to go about this conversation, and you hated yourself for having to do this to them.

James makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat and starts rubbing your arm encouragingly. He presses a quick kiss to your hairline, feeling more worried by the minute.

Sirius squeezes your hands firmly, applying pressure until it hurt and you finally raise your eyes to look at him. You’re scared of the anger, or worse — disappointment — you’d find, but there’s a bountiful amount of love in his gaze. He looks at you imploringly, saying nothing yet everything with his eyes.

You sigh shakily. “You’re all gonna die one day, and… and you’re gonna leave me here. Alone,” you warble, your voice growing softer with each word until your last one came out as a whisper. “And — and I’ll have to live without you, and I’ll be so loveless, and —“

James can’t take it anymore, and pulls you into his lap without warning, bringing your head to his chest. The walls of your dam start to break as you let out a sob, feeling the fear and sadness pouring out of you. He rubs small circles into your back, nestling his chin in your hair as he glances at his boyfriends worriedly.

You’re scared; to say the least. The three of them had been by your side for years, and your world revolved around them. You didn’t think you knew what else to live for if it wasn’t for them, their bright grins and heartfelt love. The way James crouched slightly to hug you, how Sirius pulled you into his side and peppered kisses all over your face, Remus’ hand in yours as he pressed his lips to your own — you didn’t think you could last a day without them and their endearing little quirks.

Living alone wasn’t something you had in you to do; because it wasn’t really living if it wasn’t with them. The thought of waking up in an empty bed sends a shudder through you as you squeeze your eyes impossibly tighter.

“Baby,” Sirius speaks softly, and your heart clenches at the way his voice cracks. He places a hand on the nape of your neck, slowly rubbing up and down. “Maybe… maybe you won’t have us in the future. But —“

That was the wrong thing to say, as you let out a wail and cling impossibly harder to James. Remus flicks the side of Sirius’ head chidingly as James rolls his eyes. Sirius lets out a sad exhale, blinking away tears. He never knows how to fix things.

The tall boy notices the way Sirius’ head was lowered, and immediately wraps both arms around him, pressing kisses to his hair. James tries not to smile upon seeing Sirius melt into his touch.

He locks eyes with Remus, and nods quietly to let him know he can handle it.

“Angel,” James coaxes softly. “Look up at me, please?”

You sniffle softly, raising your head to meet his gaze. James frowns when he sees your puffy red eyes, reaching out to wipe your tears.

“Do you love us for our bodies?”

The question catches you off guard, your eyebrows arching. Was he joking? In a situation like this? You hear the unmistakable sound of Remus snorting behind you. “What?”

“I said,” James repeated, “do you love us for our bodies?”

“No!” you splutter, some of your melancholy leaving to make way for confusion. “What — why —“

“Exactly,” James says firmly, immediately shutting you up with the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t love us for our bodies, for our physicality. You love us for us, for our love. And let me tell you, our love is something that’s gonna stay with you until the end of time.”

You immediately soften at his words. “But I won’t have you here, you won’t be —“

“We will,” James responds softly, jabbing a finger into the left side of your chest. “We will be here. Right here.”

You feel your heart swell with sad affection; feeling nostalgia towards something that hasn’t even happened yet.

Remus scoots forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back snug against his chest. “And we’re here with you now. We’re going to be with you for years, dove. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon, okay?”

You let your eyes flutter closed, let yourself indulge for a moment as you nod blindly. It was impossible for you to stay upset when your boys were comforting you with saccharine voices and sweet touches. Perhaps they were right, they always were.

You hear a sniffle from your left, and open your eyes to look at Sirius. He had tears running down his cheeks, and was looking at you with his mouth open and a heartbroken look on his face. Remus let out a quiet chuckle, and you turn to give him a death glare as you crawl out of his lap and over to Sirius.

Sirius immediately pulls you into a strangling hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cries. “Why are you crying?” James questions, bemused with the slightest hint of concern in his tone.

“My poor baby, she’s gonna be all alone,” he blubbered, earning a small smile from you. He pulls away and raises his head to look at you, gripping your cheeks with a fervour and desperation you’ve never seen before. “I’m gonna write you a letter everyday, so you can read them all when I’m gone. And… and I’ll make you a scrapbook of my most handsome pictures.”

You smile indulgently at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he blabs on, wiping his nose. “And we can make sex tapes in case you’re extra horny when you’re old, and…”

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Remus says loudly, earning a giggle from you as James swats the back of Sirius’ head.

You rest your head on Sirius’ shoulder, feeling James peck your cheek and Remus’ arm wrapping around your waist.

Grief was inevitable, but it was just love coming back to haunt you, wasn’t it? Even after they passed, you’d find them in the way the wind travels on chilly nights, the glimmer of the sun at dawn, and maybe even the occasional sex tape. In everything you see, you would see them.

Their unconditional devotion to you transcended the blurry lines of mortality, and you knew that as long as your heart continued to beat, they would never stop loving you. James was right — they had left the mark of their love in every corner of your heart and home; and weren’t ever going to leave you alone.