#i’ve been not great but i’m feeling better and more at ease with where i am

[tvrningout-archived]

grabs all of you and smooches your faces and weeps!!! i miss all of you and can’t wait to subject y’all to my rambling and love once more bc you better believe i’m gonna use my spring break to make a comeback 😎😎😎

[staryuee]

WHAT THEY DO WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE!

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread, dainsleif/pantalone may be ooc (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . just cute habits, actions etc that they do, whether intentionally or not, after being struck with cupid’s arrow.

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . jean, diluc, zhongli, xiao, nilou, xianyun, dehya, wanderer, arlecchino, pantalone, dainsleif

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . scrolling through the genshin tag makes me wanna die sometimes…i’m trying to do investigative work and i have to quickly scroll past the same smutty language like it’s booktok torture + also i’ve been playing baldurs gate 3 for the past several days and i think i’ve developed a problem…

G. JEAN — 琴

ʚ jean is very subtle in the way she loves someone, she doesn’t want to keep it secret per se, but her love is always almost adjacent to a puppy crush; something that seems fleeting but in the long run returns harder and hits oh so much worse.

ʚ she can’t necessarily abuse her powers, and she wouldn’t dare dream of messing up the order she so carefully has managed to maintain, so the way she tries to convey her feelings across isn’t too brash or loud.

ʚ simple things like letting her hands brush against yours when she passes you documents, allowing you to visit her office whenever you please even if it’s to just sprawl down at a nearby couch and read a book you found in the library while meandering, and even letting you join her on her daily walks across the courtyard.

ʚ during windblume festivals she won’t hesitate to strike up a seemingly harmless and friendly conversation, all the while sneaking a flower into your hair that resembles the feelings you stir up inside her fuzzy heart.

ʚ jean is overall quite an awkward person when it comes to anything related to romantic or plantoic ties, she’s a bit of a people pleaser in that way where she prefers to assume everyone’s a friend before an enemy… or in this case, “interested”.

ʚ with backup and sought guidance from her good friends lisa and kaeya, she’ll try a myriad of tactics to get you to notice her; a little shoulder massage there, a heartfelt sticky note placed on your workstation there, inviting you to classic candlelit dinners etc.

ʚ yes, believe me, she even tried the cartoonish “rose bit between teeth and uncomfortably arched side lean on a wall” approach before deciding it’s much better to listen to herself than the flamboyant duo.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc is the actual epitome of a gentleman. his love is so pure and genuine you can’t help but flower press every petal from the various bouquet he personally delivers to you on special occasions (anything from you completing a particularly hard or draining mission to doing something you thought you’d suck at).

ʚ his coat is also yours now. it’s like a six sense at this point to notice when you’re shivering out in the cold winds, and it’s become even more of a routine for him to simply shed that fluffy coat of his and drape it appropriately over your shoulders, trying to maintain a comfortable distance between you two as he adjusts it both to ease your tension and assure the pounding of his heart goes unheard.

ʚ diluc doesn’t enjoy using his riches to woo someone, it’s uncouth and just shows a desperation unbecoming of someone who dates to marry. if he wants to know you’re in it for the long haul, he’ll be much more sensitive and thoughtful when picking out gifts for you, each them have to hold some level of significance in your life.

ʚ the whole fiasco with his poor maids and some sneaky, perverse stalkers and diluc’s flaming great sword certainly applies to you as well; he’ll quietly ensure your safety in the night, helping you walk home with his arm hooked under yours, and in broad daylight he won’t hesitate to swing that polished wolf’s gravestone of his against any onlookers.

ʚ diluc is extremely closed off but deeply sentimental, he can so easily find himself rambling about his childhood stories to you; anything from how he used to collect seashells with kaeya to bring back to their dad, or how him and jean used to let baby barbara braid their hair together while babysitting…to things that are slightly more troublesome and heart wrenching to even mutter.

ʚ he may be less vocal than most in terms of feelings, but that doesn’t mean he won’t commit to it if he’s in love with someone. diluc isn’t the slightest bit dumb, he understand in order to get his feelings across he needs to do more than take random days off to spend time with you, he needs to at least hint it in a way that clearly gets his intentions across.

ʚ believe me, whenever you come by to dawn winery per notice, everyone raises a brow at you with curious smirks and gazes as diluc nearly stumbles on his words to get the phrase: “you look lovely tonight” out.

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ he has up to thousands years of romantic customs under his belt, he understands the vague signs and ways to further communicate how much he adores you.

ʚ … that would be the case in its full if not for the fact for the first thousand couple years of his life he wasn’t busy maiming other gods and shedding blood. safe to say, his memories of mortal “courting” is slightly, if not absolutely, a massive, weaving and overlapping trail of various centuries and cultures he’s been accustomed to; anything ranging from the days when khaenri’ah was still in its prime to nowadays with newfound slang.

ʚ he’ll recite the most beautifully heartfelt and awfully sincere poem all the while you’re fighting your life in a haunted house (he’s heard this activity is helpful to get couples closer to one another, and given the fact you’re clinging on for dear life at the edge of his coat, he assumes he’s on the right track!)

ʚ he wants to impress you while also maintaining an air of genuineness to his actions, and while that does sometimes end in awkward situations where he ends up wearing regal attire to what’s supposed to be a casual dinner at wangmin, his heart remains completely pure in its endeavours.

ʚ oh, let’s not forget this man is quite literally a dragon too!

ʚ sometimes he can forget you don’t have the same complexion as him and will proudly present you some sort of glimmering relic from his hoard, forgetting that certain materials that existed back in the day were deadly and or toxic for mortals to touch let alone possess.

ʚ with a little nudge in the right direction, he’ll quickly learn everything there is to know for how to properly handle your precious heart. whatever you’d like, you may have — if it’s within his reach, that is. but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop at what’s available, no, just how much he’s willing to risk for you.

XIAO — 魈

ʚ he’s already embarrassed and awkward enough with accepting the fact he likes you, so accepting the fact that he loves you had left him with a lengthy exorcism spree down in some forgotten areas in liyue (it didn’t help).

ʚ in all honestly, not much changes; both because he’s rather emotionally constipated but also because he’s more than sure he’s loved you for longer than he seems to currently acknowledge.

ʚ letters that came only on special occasions like your birthday or his became much more frequent and a lot less poetic, it felt more like he was writing about his thoughts at the time, a little akin to how you’ve made him feel less constricted and much more free; he can finally have the courage to step out of his comfort zone.

ʚ all those small acts of love he used to subtly express (i.e gifting you two crystaflies, personally inviting you to come hang out, etc) he manages to double, he can’t have you thinking his intentions are the same as before. no, they’re much stronger now.

ʚ his guard softens around you regardless, but when you randomly fall asleep on his shoulder on your weekly visits at wangshu inn, instead of taking you to one of the rooms, he’ll sit there and allow you to rest, and if he’s assured you’re not awake to ridicule him, maybe, just maybe…he’ll sneakily loop his arm around your waist.

ʚ even just the thought of you makes him spiral into daydreaming, sitting atop a tree and swinging his leg back and forth carelessly as he stares up at the night to await for a new light, knowing full well the only sun he wants to see is you…just imagining his hands holding your waist like they did so long ago makes him shiver (hopefully this time he’ll get to do it when you’re not falling, and instead are falling for him)

NILOU — 妮露

ʚ nilou is basically a disney princess, if you see her singing to random birds that come watch her performances, everyone in the grand bazaar already knows it’s because you’ll be in the crowd that night.

ʚ each step within her routines are done with the little more passion, if that even is possible given her character, all because she imagines that pride and hopeful heart eyes in your eyes as all the attention is on her.

ʚ sometimes this fixation can lead to dumb mistakes on stage which bring her to sulking away with a hand on her forehead dabbing away at the sweat, but even the mention of your name as you pass by several sumeru streets is enough for her to brighten, do a quick wardrobe switch and run off to tackle you within her embrace.

ʚ nilou is not loud, but definitely not subtle. the exact representation of how she feels when you come to encourage her at her lowest (though those days are few). you’re there for her in ways you don’t imagine, and that alone is enough for her to daze away into the night as she cuddles her pillow, legs wrapped around it and all, and begins thinking about the what ifs of your relationship.

ʚ sometimes it’s a little comedic the way she speaks about you, it almost sounds like she’s reminiscing about a fictional book character with how much she takes pride in whatever little thing you do. no one tires of seeing her footsteps lightly tap against the ground in circles as she gushes about how when you complimented her the other day, you touched her cheek seemingly subconsciously ∩^ω^∩

XIANYUN — 闲云

ʚ she’s a little embarrassed at just how obvious she can be sometimes, it doesn’t help the fact her own children keep using this love of hers to their advantage.

ʚ she keeps nagging them about not taking care of themselves (she’s all too keen about their health and whereabouts now that she dwells alongside liyuean people) and yet just the mention of your name has her slightly stuttering in a ditzy trance as she hooks her glasses back up her nose bridge.

ʚ without hesitance, she’ll show you a photo album she has of all those close to her; would you like to see the drawing little ganyu made when she just barely had her horns? or perhaps the polearm young shenhe broke when she miscalculated her own strength in training?

ʚ her family is her pride and joy, it’s only natural for her to want you to be part of it even if it’s something as silly as raking through photos of a chubby ganyu eating the stem of a flower or teeny shenhe napping on a tree.

ʚ a peaceful life mingling with mortals has left her with ample time to enjoy the trivialities of life, and yet she finds her mind all too quickly wandering to you; had you been taking care of yourself? were you feeling lonely? did you need her to make something for you?

ʚ a secretive worry wart that quickly becomes that ancient adetpus she used to pride herself as soon as your delicate hands accidentally brush against hers; suddenly she’s perked up, chest heaven up high with a confident hand on her shoulder: you wouldn’t even think that flurry of pink hues gushing across her cheeks was real if not for the light providing evidence.

DEHYA — 迪希雅

ʚ oh she’s absolutely ecstatic!!

ʚ there’s genuinely nothing better than love in her eyes, especially just having the ability to love and trust someone fully when you haven’t been able to do so for a plethora of years.

ʚ doesn’t try to hide it, like at all, if anything she makes it rather obvious with the way she constantly pulls you closer as if you were already an item, arms constantly clinging onto you and your sides or her hands messing up your hair as you greet her.

ʚ she’ll take you anywhere you ask, free of charge of course (just promise to smile…and maybe if you’re up for it give her a kiss on the cheek, that’s sure to be enough reimbursement).

ʚ she’s already quite a confident and outwardly friendly person (if the price is right that is) but when in your presence? what’s wrong with just a little bit of showing off…

ʚ dehya needs you to see the best side of her!! maybe then you’ll finally give in and realise that her constantly asking for you to come join her on her travels and commissions isn’t brought out of mere timed coincidence

WANDERER — 流浪者

ʚ i saw that a few people were upset and confused by wanderer’s sudden switch up into being more kind/friendly, but i think we all forget what kind of person he was before his betrayals.

ʚ he loves wholeheartedly, if he adores something it consumes him in a warm pit of mushy domesticity — he doesn’t hate love or being kind, he hates the way it makes him vulnerable and the way it reminds him of the way he used to be.

ʚ that also means he’ll completely ignore you, or, try his best to rather.

ʚ wanderer knows within his heart that he completely years for you, just the accidental slip of his gaze meeting yours makes his brain go haywire, sending volts of electricity down his spine — you make him feel so alive.

ʚ it’s terrifying to return to a person you once were especially now with the knowledge of how being the way you were lead to some sort of tragedy, he’s managed to build up these walls so high and here you were, sneaking in through cracks he didn’t even know he had.

ʚ and he both loves it and hates it; loves the fact he can still feel, but hates how he’s so easily susceptible.

ʚ loving you turns into self-loathing and brooding, his feet pacing up and down every street at night to clear his muddled head. small distractions like taking strolls in meadows or sleeping up in the vines of trees lead to just thoughts of you and you alone.

ʚ wanderer refuses to be overly friendly and buddy-buddy with you even if he’s aware that if you decided to just one day hold him sincerely he’d burst into tears, but he can compromise with being less cutthroat.

ʚ “shut the fuck up” turns into him just rolling his eyes at you as you ramble (he soaks up any piece of information he can and locks it away), items you gift him now are more apparent in their value as he yells at those who dare question the dumb aranara pin you bought him and placed sneakily on his hat…oh and he gives you hat privileges.

ʚ it’s raining? …get close to him so you don’t begin complaining about the way the rain feels on your skin.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ʚ she starts treating you less like an asset in her “contact if in need of assistance” roster and more like a friend — of course, she maintains that distance between you two, but she lets you wriggle around in her heart to see if you manage to fit.

ʚ chances are, you will — unknowingly she’d grown to love you in ways that may have even gone unnoticed by her given how natural they were; inviting you to random gatherings when the whim arises, pulling your chair out for you when out for brunch, or even tucking away strands of hair and twirling it around playfully.

ʚ arlecchino’s love isn’t something immediate or expected, she’s a woman who keeps every card close to her chest and her children even closer, you have to prove to her that you’re worth it, in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean spilling blood but more so answers the question: do you care, and are you willing to accept her blinding love?

ʚ it’s like a shepherd dog with a lost lamb, but that little sheep is just you, and she’s a wolf in need of a muse.

ʚ cute tea parties aren’t uncommon with the two of you, she’ll happily let you indulge yourself in treats as she leans back with scorching tea in her hands while memorising every curve of your lips as you chew and swallow, she loves watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and the little sway from side to side you occasionally do as an expression of joy.

ʚ once arlecchino notices that she’s began treating you as another authority figure in the house of hearth, she’ll reach and collar you gently, intertwining her dark, cursed hand into your flowery one.

PANTALONE — 潘塔罗涅

ʚ one of the most attractive qualities a man can have is knowing when to shut the fuck up and to slide his card over during a dinner — both such things pantalone can do effortlessly, especially when it comes to you.

ʚ arlecchino claims that: “he allows his actions to be governed by the vengeance and hatred locked in the depths of his heart.” something that definitely translates into his love affairs in more than obsessive manners.

ʚ don’t be afraid of the massive hauls of clothing and sparkling jewellery galore that are being trudged in by multiple men, darling, it’s just a menial souvenir from his latest travels and newfound connections that he thought you might enjoy ^^

ʚ while his grandeur usually stems from his deep hearted desire to overthrow the imbalance between immortals and mortals, rest assured the luxury he provides you purely stems from his desire to make you his.

ʚ whether that entails you being his pet for him to seek comfort from on the occasion or a genuine connection where he can comfortably hold you at night purely depends on you.

ʚ oh, you’ll let him chew your ear off about his recent expedition and extravagant plan? consider your rent payed for the next few months and a few kisses on your cheek that certainly aren’t actually part of the snezhnayan custom (let him indulge in those little cravings or else he’ll undoubtedly be petty).

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

ʚ has a breakdown.

ʚ a little dramatic, but honestly if his entire life wasn’t a disgusting mess already, you’ve come to make it worse. fate is deliberately mean to brooding blondes it seems, given the fact he’s now stuck pacing around back and forth on a trail of dead abyss mages as he rereads a letter you’ve sent him weeks ago.

ʚ everything you give to him, everything you say, do, write, whatever, he remembers implicitly. each word you say is engraved into him as if they were important artefacts regardless of how pointless and mundane.

ʚ it can honestly get a little…scary at times? you’ll mention liking something once and all of a sudden you find it within your possession at least a few weeks later.

ʚ dainsleif doesn’t have enough time to wallow in the glory of mushy, all consuming love despite desperately wanting to imagine how your hand would feel caressing down past each of his scars, but what he can do is protect you, and to him that’s a greater blessing than intimacy he knows will end eventually.

ʚ a big tough man who would honestly fold the moment you call him any variation of a pet name, specifically with the word “mine/my” at the beginning — hey, it’s nice knowing you mean something to someone the point they view you as inseparable.

ʚ the timings at which he comes to aid you are all too convenient and believe me he’ll try his best to downplay it as coincidence, all the while he’s breathing heavily both from the face your eyes are scanning his so closely and the fact he used up so much energy to merely make a portal to sneak into your space.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[biolumien]

friendly blows

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader smile and wave everyone. there may be the slightest bit of suggestive dialogue but that's bc hoshina's a fucker word count: 1091

“Do you take great pleasure in beating the shit out of me or something?” you pant from where you lay on the floor. As you attempt to sit up, you wince, holding your rib. “You kicked me in the fucking rib, Hoshina-”

“Ah, pshaw. Didn’t hit it hard enough to properly break it,” Hoshina says, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ll live. I know your limits better than you, I think. After all, I spend so much time staring at your vitals in HQ anyway… I know what’s fragile about you. And besides, I’m not trying to kill you. You’ll be fine.” He wipes sweat from his jaw, one of his crimson eyes opening as he smirks down at you, a wink. He extends his hand out to you. “Up on your feet, soldier. Got a bit more fight left in ya, I can tell.”

“You’re a bastard,” you grouse, reaching out your hand to grasp his as you begin to pull yourself up–

And then Hoshina retracts his hand, and you fall right back onto the ground.

“Fucker!” you grumble as Hoshina begins to chuckle.

“Ohh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… had to, had to. If you still have the energy to mouth off I’m sure you have more than enough energy to fight me.” Hoshina teases, though his expression seemed a little more serious. “You’re the one who wanted to fight me, let’s not forget. I’m just giving you your money’s worth.”

You growl, pressing your hands against the training room’s mats as you push yourself up, still rubbing at where Hoshina had kicked you before. You ready yourself into a sparring position, and Hoshina simply just stares at you, a teasing smirk on his face.

Pure cockiness.

You’ve been fighting for close to thirty minutes–it’s felt like an eternity, in any case. He’s seen most of your moves, and the ones he hasn’t seen, he’s been able to predict with relative ease. 

Hoshina moves fast–almost too fast for your eyes to process, his foot swinging out to kick you in the side, and you manage to jump out of the way just in time for his swing to find no purchase. He laughs, winding up his arm to slam a punch towards your face. You hold up your hands fast enough to block the blow and grit your teeth as Hoshina bears down on you with the punch, forcing his whole weight onto you.

“Not bad,” Hoshina says. “You’re getting better at predicting my moves.”

Focusing’s taking too much of your time, so you simply huff.

“Ahh, there it goes,” Hoshina teases. “Can’t mouth off if you’re too busy trying to focus on not getting hit, right?”

A sudden punch to your stomach scatters your focus immediately as he swings his leg, his foot hooking your ankle and causing you to slam against the ground with a thud. 

You cough as the impact takes all the air out of your lungs, and Hoshina leans over you. 

“You alive?” he teases, baring his teeth. 

Fucker.  

“Oh, plenty alive,” you rasp, reaching up to grab him by the collar. 

As he yelps—it’s a cute sound, to hear him caught off guard—you hook your leg around the back of his knee and he collapses against you, barely avoiding smashing your heads together by bracing himself against the mat. After a bit of struggling, you flip your positions so that you’re pinning him against the mat with a hand pressed against his sternum, your legs bracketing his thighs to keep him from moving. 

Hoshina’s eyes are fully open, staring at you as his chest heaves. He pants, and you’re furtively grateful he’s not making some kind of smart remark.  

“What was that, you said? If you have the energy to mouth off… something like that? Where’s all your fight now?” you gasp out, pressing your hand down harder. 

Hoshina wheezes. 

“Oh, believe me, pretty thing, I’ve got more fight left in me than you could ever imagine,” Hoshina says, his eyes meeting yours as suddenly you feel yourself buckling. Hoshina pushes you back with a gentle hand, as if you’re barely any weight to him at all, shuffling your bodies–

“Hey–” you protest as he flips you onto your front, pinning you to the mat with a knee to the small of your back and holding your arms back with a hand. “I got you that time!”

“You did,” Hoshina amends. “You can get some praise for that, if you want. Ohh, you did so well,” his voice lilts as he leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “Keep it up, and maybe you can pin me down for longer…”

Your face flushes.

“Going red? How cute,” Hoshina says. “Well… hm. Let’s end training here for today.” He pulls back, letting you get up. 

“You bastard,” you say, your hands coming up to your face to assess how flushed your cheeks are. It might just be because of the training, but you feel like you’re on fire, somehow.

“Mm, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hoshina says, holding up a water bottle to you. “Here. Good work today.” 

You unscrew the water bottle, drinking about half the bottle, crushing the plastic in your grip as you do. Hoshina watches with bemusement in his eyes.

“I just feel like I’m not getting better,” you say frustratedly. “When I fight you it just feels like I just forget about everything else I’ve learned.” “Aww, don’t let that get you down,” Hoshina teases. “You’re doing great against me. Most people can’t even land a hit on me, you know! And you kept me pinned down for… longer than anyone could say they had before.” He seemed almost embarrassed to admit it, pressing a hand to the back of his neck. 

“You’re making fun of me,” you say. “Aren’t you?”

“No,” Hoshina says after a moment, a smile approaching this side of genuine crossing his lips. “You’re doing great against me. I look forward to the day where you can beat me. Let me see your hand for a sec?”

You extend your hand for a second, wondering what he’ll do–

Hoshina simply kisses your bruised knuckles, holding your hand gently. You think you might be dead, hallucinating, or something, with the way your heart stops for a moment–and then the moment’s over, because Hoshina has parted from you, letting go of your hand.

“Text me if you ever want to spar again,” he says, turning away from you. 

“Hoshina–” you start, but he’s already gone.

Fucker.

[lovelytsunoda]

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

[chillinglyadventurous]

The Game - Stanley Pines

Nothing better than pretending to be strangers and letting Stan try to pick you up.

The bell above Greasy’s Diner jingled as you walked in, the place buzzing with the usual sounds of late-night activity. It was packed for a Tuesday evening with the crowd chattering and the clink of dishes creating a comfortable atmosphere. You scanned the tables, pretending not to notice a familiar figure sitting alone in the booth in the corner. Stan was already leaning back in his seat, the picture of ease and casual confidence. You fought back a smile.

This had started as a little game between the two of you. Even though you’d been together for years, Stan sometimes liked to act as though he didn’t know you, trying to pick you up like some babe at a bar. It was a fun kind of charade and you were more than happy to play along.

Tonight, you were the new face in town, alone and looking for a bite to eat. You had wandered into Greasy’s Diner, where a man with a cocky grin and a loud shirt was already eyeing you from across the room. You walked past his booth without acknowledging him, moving up to the counter where Lazy Susan greeted you with a warm smile.

“Evening, hon,” she said, pouring you a cup of coffee before you even asked. “You here by yourself?”

“Seems like it,” you replied, taking a sip.

You could feel Stan’s eyes on you, watching from his booth, his gaze steady and pointed. Before long, he pushed himself up from his seat and made his way over, clearing his throat a bit louder than necessary as he leaned against the counter beside you.

“Well, well, what’s a babe like you doin’ alone in a joint like this?” His voice was loud and thick with his usual swagger and you could feel him slipping into character.

You turned to look at him with a deliberately unimpressed expression. “And what’s it to you?” You arched an eyebrow, looking him up and down, pretending you didn’t know every inch of him already.

Stan gave you a grin, clearly relishing the banter. “Just thought I’d offer some company,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m Stan Pines. You mighta heard of me. Local businessman, town legend, modesty’s one of my finest traits.” He winked, making you bite back a laugh.

“Oh, that Stan Pines?” You replied, feigning surprise. “The guy who’s always claiming he can take down any man in town in one punch?”

He straightened up, all mock indignation. “Now, I don’t just claim it. I’ve got the track record to prove it. You ever wanna see it sometime, just say the word.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a grin. “You really think that’s a good pickup line?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He smirked, sliding onto the stool next to you. “Come on, tell me your name, sweetheart. I gotta know who I’m sittin’ next to.”

“Oh, you gotta know, huh?” You took another sip of your coffee, considering. “Maybe I like keeping you guessing.”

He chuckled, tapping his fingers on the counter. “Playing hard to get, I see. Alright, alright, I’ll guess.” He leaned in, “You look like a ‘Marge’ or a ‘Nancy.’ Maybe a ‘Judy.’”

You scoffed. “Wow, are you just naming every woman over fifty? If you think I’m some retiree trying to relive her glory days, then maybe you should head on back to your booth.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, honey.” He gave you a sidelong glance, a little sparkle in his eye. “You’d have to pay me to leave now.”

You both paused as Lazy Susan set a plate of fries in front of you. Stan was quick to snag one, popping it into his mouth as if you hadn’t just met, as if this were just another night where the two of you were sharing a plate and laughing over greasy food. But, tonight was different. You had to remind yourself to keep up the act.

“Hey!” You swatted at his hand. “I didn’t say you could just help yourself.”

He held up his hands in surrender, looking utterly unrepentant. “Hey, that’s just part of my charm, doll. I got a whole list of other great qualities if you care to find out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You folded your arms, leaning back in your seat as you gave him a look of mock scrutiny. “Like what?”

“Let’s see,” he said, scratching his chin in an exaggerated way. “I’m the best dancer in town. I’ve got an eye for adventure and I know every local mystery from here to the outskirts of Gravity Falls.”

“Mysteries, huh?” You leaned forward a little, playing along. “You mean like the ones people make up to entertain tourists?”

“Oh, they’re real, baby, trust me,” he said, lowering his voice as though letting you in on a secret. “Monsters, ghouls, haunted vending machines. You name it. Stick with me and I’ll show you all the secrets of this place. That is, if you think you can handle it.”

You gave him a skeptical look, unable to hold back a grin. “Sounds like a scam to me.”

He gasped in mock offense. “A scam? Me? That hurt.” He put a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’m just trying to make your stay in Gravity Falls as enjoyable as possible. Besides, if I were scamming you, you’d already be paying for this meal.” He gestured at the plate of fries with a wry smile.

You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what’s the real story here? You hang around Greasy’s hoping to pick up tourists?”

“Nah, not usually,” he admitted, his voice a little softer, a bit more genuine, though the playful glint in his eye never faded. “Only the real interesting ones.”

“Oh, so I’m interesting now?” You laughed, letting your expression soften too.

He gave you a smirk, his gaze warm. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.” But, he was looking at you like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. It was a look you recognized, one that made your heart skip just a little, even after all these years.

You shared a few more minutes of banter, ordering more food, letting the act play out like the comfortable routine it was. Stan told you all about ‘his’ adventures in Gravity Falls, some of which you’d lived through right beside him. You threw in a few questions here and there, asking him things you already knew just to hear him talk about them.

As the night wore on, the crowd in Greasy’s began to thin out and you noticed Stan glancing around, perhaps realizing that the game might be coming to a close.

He leaned in, his expression more earnest, his voice dropping to a quieter tone. “Listen, I know I can be a bit much, but I like you, sweetheart. You’re something special.” There was a warmth there, the kind that only came after years together, the kind that reminded you this was more than just an act.

You grinned, unable to keep up the pretense any longer. “You know,” you said, pretending to think it over, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

He gave you a grin, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want you running off on me.”

You sat together in comfortable silence, just letting the familiar rhythms of the diner settle around you. After a moment, you leaned in closer, letting the rest of the diner fade away.

“You know,” you said, voice soft, “I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime.”

He squeezed your hand, his thumb tracing a gentle line over your knuckles. “Oh, don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m just getting started.” He squeezed your upper thigh. “Let’s get outta here, toots. I ain’t ready for this night to end.”

[rayesgenesis]

jealousy, jealousy. — b.f

a/n: a one shot. what better than a one shot!

who? ben florian x fem!reader

it had to stop. someone had to do something to stop this. this girl whose name you didn’t even know had been chatting up ben for a little over 10 minutes now. five minutes too much, in your opinion.

you could see everything play out from the lockers, where you were standing. her touching his arm and laughing extra hard at anything he said. she really couldn’t have made it more obvious. and you guessed that ben, being the sweetheart that he is, didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

you knew full well that he made sure she knew that he had a girlfriend and still, she acted like the boundary was a wide open door. you just had to shut it down.

you had been clearing your throat so much that lonnie, looking for her stuff in her locker next to yours, became increasingly worried about your health state. if it wasn’t for her asking if you were okay, you wouldn’t have pushed yourself off of your locker and went to deal with the problem yourself.

you tried to control your breathing on your way over to them. okay y/n, you can't freak out in front of them. don’t freak out. don’t freak out. don’t-

"hi baby" you came up behind ben with the softest tone and your arm snaking its way around his waist. you did not acknowledge her once of course.

"y/n!" ben looked down at you and you could feel her eyes on you as his arm came around your shoulders. ben’s hand waved towards the girl as to introduce her. "i don’t think you two have met yet. y/n, this is nadia. nadia, this is y/n. my girlfriend."

you reluctantly took your eyes off of his face and acknowledged her with raised eyebrows. as if you hadn’t been staring at her for the past 10 minutes or so.

"ohhh, so she is the girlfriend. don’t worry, i’ve heard only great things about you. it’s really nice to finally meet you." she said with a fakeness that was typically communicated between auradon princesses. you succeded in letting a small smile seep through the tight lines that your lips formed.

"nadia is replacing jane as head of the party planning commitee while she’s away." ben clarified.

"right, well it’s nice to meet you too." before your eye started to twitch, you brought your eyes back to your boyfriend’s face.

"i came to take you up on your offer of helping me with maths." you murmured close to ben’s ear and with a snarky smile. "we can go to my dorm if you want? evie won’t be there for another two hours." ben cleared his throat and his ears went a pink-ish color. you were having trouble keeping your smirk to yourself.

"right uhh, bella, can we talk later?" he spat out with a breathless voice.

"absolutely. yeah, we’ll talk later." you didn’t even let her mutter out something about how nice it was seeing you since you turned around without paying her another thought.

you were sitting on the edge of ben’s bed looking at him getting ready. he was looking at himself in the large body mirror and as he reached for his tie you stood up.

"i can tie it for you if you want.." you said as you stood right behind him while looking at him in the mirror. ben smiled at you through the mirror.

"yeah..yeah that would be nice. thanks. my hands are a bit shaky right now." he let out a nervous chuckle and you turned so you’d face him.

"i know i noticed. if it’s because of that council meeting, i’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about. they won’t have a choice but to accept your proposition. it’s a well rounded project. " you tried to ease his stress as best as you could.

"you’re right." he sighed softly. "i’m just worried they’ll think my ideas are too unrealistic, you know. i want to prove that i can handle it." his shoulders relaxed a bit, like a weight physically got lifted off of him.

you finished tying his tie and looked up at him through your eyelashes only to find him looking right back down at you. your hands went to his shoulders and his own came on top of them.

"i know you’re going to do great because your ideas are great. you are great, ben. they’ll see it sooner than later." you nodded positively, making sure he understood that you meant every word.

a small smile played on ben’s lips as his hand came to hold your chin and brought your lips closer to his. your lips were about to touch when you heard a knock on the door.

you sighed. "if that’s doug again, i’m kicking his butt all the way back to charmington." ben snorted as he went to open the door.

"ben, hi! i was hoping to find you here." you secretly hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. her voice irritated you greatly. so cheerful and for what, it was 10 am on a thursday.

"nadia…what’s up?" there was your confirmation. that girl wouldn’t back out in front of anything, it seemed. you crossed your arms and scoffed to yourself while shaking your head. then you stepped to the side so you could see her better.

"we actually need your input on some of the activities for the spring festival back at the commitee, and i thought i’d come here to get you." ben opened his mouth to answer but no words came out. he looked back at you and nadia acknowledged you.

"y/n! i didn’t see you there!" you only waved your hand with a polite smile. ben returned to nadia.

"sure, let me just get my keys." you were annoyed. you knew that this was a temporary arrangement so you didn’t want to get too upset, but it still bugged you.

ben came to you and paused with his hand on your back, and a look in his eyes looking for confirmation that you were okay. you looked back at him and offered him a small smile. his eyes lowered to your lips as he squeezed your arm and started to walk away before you grabbed him back by the arm.

"ben wait, you forgot something."

with that, you held the back of his head with your hands and kissed him deeply. you really wished you had kept at least one eye open to see nadia’s reaction.

"for good luck." you managed to get out with a breathy voice. he cleared his throat and you waved both of them goodbye as they left.

you shouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

[sun-kissy]

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

[misctf]

‘Aren’t personal trainers supposed to be buff?’ Joe thought as he followed behind Richey, ‘Or at least work out a little?’ He wondered as he looked over at the short, skinny blond guy leading him through the gym.

“So we’ll start with some basic stuff just to get an idea where you’re at.” Richey’s high voice caused Joe to wince, “But before we start, I like to know what motivates my What really drives you.” Richey turned and stared deeply into Joe’s eyes.

“Well uh...” Joe averted his gaze slightly, taken aback by the intensity of the stare, “I want to get in better shape.” He chuckled a bit, “I just graduated college and was on the swim team, but two years of working and drinking kinda caught up to me. It’s tough man, ya know?” He adjusted his loose shirt a bit, which hid the slight pudge that covered his abs, “I’ve tried to get back into it but I don’t know...”

Richey nodded, “I definitely don’t think you’re in bad shape.” He winked and Joe couldn’t help but smirk. Was he really getting hit on by his personal trainer? Ashley would get a good laugh at that, “But I can respect that. So you lost your drive. Gave into some unhealthy habits.” Richey clapped his hands together, “Well you came to the right place! I know how to help all my clients reach their goals through both body and mind!” Richey led Joe into a different part of the gym, a private room with a cabinet, free weights, a bench press, and a squat rack.

“From what I’ve heard, if there’s anyone who could its you.” Joe replied, taking in his surroundings, “I’ve heard great things from all the reviews.” Richey smirked as he walked to the cabinet and began to rustle through the contents. Joe raised an eyebrow, “So uh, what’re you looking for?”

“Ah there it is!” Richey said with a grin, turning to face Joe, holding a few candles, “I know this is unorthodox, but I believe creating a peaceful environment while working out is key.” Richey said, placing candles around the workout room and lighting them, “Go on, let’s start with a basic bench press.”

Joe nodded and scrunched his nose at the smell of the candles. He could smell a hint of pine, tobacco, and leather. And it smelled pretty good.

‘Unorthodox, but okay.’ Joe thought, as he sat at the bench and got ready to start his set.

Richey stood above to spot, “Okay now you know the drill, just up and down. We’ll start with a light weight, okay?” Joe nodded and started just as Richey instructed. Up and down. Barely difficult, “You’re doing so well.” Richey cooed, “Remember, deep breaths.” Joe continued, taking in deep breaths, the smell from the candles entering his nostrils, “Wow look at those. What nice pecs you have.” Richey said, grinning down at Joe.

“Uh thanks man?” Joe replied, finishing his set and sitting up, “Appreciate the comment, but just want you to know, I’m not gay.”

Richey chuckled, “Of course, of course!” He held up his hands defensively, “Sorry, I can’t help but admire my work.” Joe raised an eyebrow but before he could say anything, Richey cut him off, “Okay I think we’ve done enough with the bench. Let’s focus on your biceps.”

Joe nodded. It felt odd to move so quickly to the next exercise but his chest felt sore. He chuckled- he must’ve really been out of shape. As he walked over and grabbed some dumbbells for curls, he noticed Richey lighting a few more candles. Again, the smell of pine, leather, and cigar smoke intensified in the room.

“Just some basic curls and transition to shoulder press.” Richey instructed. Joe did just that, curling the dumbbells with ease, a grin forming on his face.

‘Fuck this feels really good.’ He thought, observing himself in the gym mirror, ‘Huh I thought I shaved today.’ Joe could see some stubble across his face. But before he could think more of it, Richey walked over and gave his biceps a squeeze.

“Very good, drop the weights. I think you’ve done enough for now.”

“Hey man, don’t touch...” But Joe stopped before he could finish. As he looked at Richey, his wide blue eyes, tan skin, and cropped blond hair, he felt an odd infatuation for the cute man, “Uh never mind dude.” His voice sounded a little hoarse and he cleared his throat, “Hey its getting a bit hot in here, mind if I lose the shirt?”

Richey smiled, “Oh please do.”

Joe smirked and pulled off his shirt, revealing a pair of nicely sculpted pecs and bulging arms and shoulders. He looked over at himself in the mirror, catching a glimpse of his improved physique.

“Wait...” Joe said aloud, trying to process his bulging muscles, “That’s not...”

“Let’s get you doing some crunches.” Richey interrupted, “I’ll support your feet, okay?”

Joe was about to interject, but he caught another whiff of the candles and simply nodded. He got to the ground, placing his arms behind his head and began his set of crunches. And with each crunch, the slight pudge that covered his abs seemed to reduce until a perfect set of abdominals graced his features.

“I’m very impressed.” Richey commented, “When I saw your application I was a little worried about you.”

“Yeah? Why’s tHAt?” Joe’s voice cracked as he did another crunch.

“Well men of your age tend to have less exercise capacity.”

Joe chuckled, “I’m only 45.” His eyes widened... why’d he say that? He was 24! He cleared his throat, “I’m 45.” His voice sounded deeper, more gruff.

“Oh exactly. But I think the extra years add maturity. Less excuses, more personal discipline.” Richey replied, “You know how to make a routine and actually follow through.”

And as Joe came up from another crunch, Richey leaned forward and gave the man a kiss on the lips. Joe’s eyes widened and he quickly stood up, glaring at Richey. He wanted to chastise him, to scold him. But the kiss felt kind of nice. And the way the young personal trainer looked... with those blue eyes and fat ass. Joe didn’t know what to say, so he quickly darted toward the bathroom, mumbling that he needed some water. Richey smirked and watched as Joe’s blond locks fell from his head and hair sprouted from his face and chest. He was turning out nicely, but Richey wasn’t done. He grabbed a candle and approached the bathroom.  

When Joe finally got to the bathroom, he ran to the mirror with wide eyes. Staring back at him was an older man- buff as hell but certainly not him. His hands quickly darted to feel his new body, silently confirming it was indeed very real. And when he heard the door shut open and close behind him, he jumped.

“Oh daddy, don’t worry.” Richey cooed, placing the candle down and removing his shirt. Joe watched as the slender twink sauntered up to him. Richey smirked and placed a hand on Joe’s hairy pec, causing the older man to shudder, “You’re soooo perfect.”

“No... this isn’t right.” Joe whispered, feeling blood rush to his cock, “Get away from me.” The smell of the candle made his head spin.

“It’s okay now daddy.” Richey moaned, rubbing his hand across Joe’s pec and abs, and then down his pants, “Mind and body. That’s my mantra.”

Joe moaned as Richey grabbed his fat cock and began to pump it, slowly increasing the speed. Before he could finish though, Joe suddenly pushed Richey against the wall, breathing heavily and looking down at the smaller man. For a brief second, nothing was said before Joe crushed his lips against Richey’s, the two passionately making out. As they made out, Richey removed Joe’s pants and slowly knelt to the ground. He smirked up at Joe before wrapping his lips around the older man’s cock.

“Fuck!” Joe moaned as Richey continued. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. He’d never had a better blowjob. Not even from his... girlfriend? Joe’s head started to hurt as his prior memories came rushing forward, trying to encourage him to resist. To push Richey off of him and escape. But before he could gather the energy to do so, he felt Richey begin to suck more vigorously. And before he could stop it, he came. And with it, Joe felt his desire for his former life fade away until it disappeared. All he wanted now was to be here, with Richey.

“How’re you feeling daddy?” Richey asked, wiping his mouth, “You happy with the results?”

Joe looked over in the mirror, flexing his biceps, “You bet your ass, boy.” He replied, turning back to Richey, “So when’s our next session?”

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Shattered.

adjective ‘very upset’

in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.

word count - 5.6k

authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!

warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)

August 30th, 2022.

As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.

His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.

"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.

"I'm Corey."

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.

As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."

Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"

A smile spread across your face at the invitation.

"I'd like that."

February 4th, 2024.

Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.

Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

He usually was.

Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.

Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.

"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."

You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.

But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.

"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.

Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."

As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.

"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."

But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.

"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."

As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.

Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.

Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.

With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.

As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

February 6th, 2024.

On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.

It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.

Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.

As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.

The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.

Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.

As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.

"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."

Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.

"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.

"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.

The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.

And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.

As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.

"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.

The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.

The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.

"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.

Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.

"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

Barney nodded in agreement.

"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.

"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.

Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.

"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.

As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.

He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."

Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."

Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.

"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.

In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.

As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.

From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,

Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.

Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.

With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.

Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.

With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.

Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.

Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.

And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.

As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.

10th February, 2024.

As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.

He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.

Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.

As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.

Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.

As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.

"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."

Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.

Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.

They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.

"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"

Harry glanced at his watch before replying,

"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.

Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.

As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.

Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.

With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.

After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.

As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.

Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.

Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted.

The woman beamed with delight.

"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.

As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.

"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.

You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.

Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.

Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.

Both of your eyes widen.

Both your mouths go dry.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.

Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.

"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.

But it was.

Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.

"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.

"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.

Harry's brow furrows in concern.

"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

He remembers your name?

"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"

You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.

"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."

Harry sighs, his expression troubled.

"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”

Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.

"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.

"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."

You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."

Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."

But where would you ever find him?

You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.

"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.

His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.

"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.

You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.

"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.

With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.

You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.

As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.

You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.

As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.

With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.

Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.

You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.

Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.

"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."

The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.

But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.

Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.

"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.

Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.

"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."

The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.

With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.

Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.

He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.

As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.

LATER THAT NIGHT….

Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.

You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.

"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.

The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.

"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.

Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.

Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.

Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."

The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.

Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.

Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.

As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.

But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.

"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."

Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.

"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.

"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."

And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.

Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.

Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.

With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.

The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.

Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.

As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.

Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.

How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?

tag list: @fictionalmensblog @hermionelove @angel32112233 @moneybaby07 @hannah9921 @definegirlfriendsx

[merbear25]

Heyo,

I hope you're doing great!

Maybe a situation where the fem! reader is very tall and strong, and she comforts Sanji after the Whole Cake Island Arc.

They confess their love to each other, and Sanji feels safe, hidden in the reader's arms 🥹

Ahhhhh, thank you for sending this in! I went for a mushy gushy reunion, so I hope you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

You couldn’t have fathomed something like this ever happening. Losing Sanji brought on so many unresolved feelings, which left you wondering if you’d ever be given the chance to tell him how you really felt.

CW: SFW, fem!reader, fluff with a smidge of angst

A love that was true (Sanji)

The whirlwinds of what his life had become were pulling him in so many directions. With the gale force of them growing stronger and stronger, at times it seemed as if they’d carry him off to the never ending sea.

The ground felt out of reach, but when you and his friends came for him, he felt tethered to the life he’d had—the one he wanted to return to. Seeing the extent of how much you all were willing to go just for him made Sanji never want to go a day without any of you again.

After the storm settled and the clouds cleared, the gentle breeze of a new day settled on him like never before. As he stood at the railing and looked out to the sea, he took a long drag of his cigarette. Going over to him brought on an unfamiliar nervousness: your chest tightened and your breaths were uneven.

Even with the chance of him getting taken again was next to none, the thought of losing him unearthed feelings which had been hiding unbeknownst to you. Your heart fluttered when he turned to look at you; the softness upon his face welcomed you closer.

“How are you feeling?” He asked with a tinge of concern due to your expression.

“I should be the one asking you that.”

Coming to his side, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He returned your kind gesture. “I’m better than ever.”

A sigh of contentment left him. Timidly, you inched towards him, now more than ever wanting to be close to him. The serene look upon his face shifted. His cheeks speckled with a blush.

You nibbled at your bottom lip, trying to work up the courage to be more open with him. “I’m so thankful you’re back, Sanji.” You looked away for a moment. “I missed you.”

Your voice held more emotion than you anticipated, which painted a vibrant picture of how much he meant to you.

His grin grew wider and he had more of a pep in his demeanor, enamored by the tall beauty who was hinting at something far more personal.

“I missed you too,” he practically sang while taking your hands in his.

You giggled at his enthusiasm, but then his demeanor returned to its prior tenderness. He gazed up at you, admiring you for everything you were and everything he knew you as.

“Sanji,” you mused. “I can’t explain how terrified I was at the thought of losing you.” Your eyes batted at him from the sting of tears.

He wanted nothing more than to ease your woe-stricken heart. “I won’t be going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded in response, going to wipe away the tear beading at the corner of your eye. Seeing you so distraught, so overcome with grief at the thought of him leaving gave him all the more reason to admit his devotion to you.

“I love you and I promise to never leave you again.”

His confession caused the rest of the tears peaking through to fall. “I love you too. I have for a long time.”

He wiped away the remainder of your tears before leaning up to kiss your cheek. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive by saying that.” 

With emotions still running high, the both of you held each other closely. Letting the warmth of your newfound love wash away the remnants of sorrow, you both simply desired to offer mutual support—saving the fiery displays of passion for when the tides finally settled.

[moonybug444]

(sorry for my bad english!) hii! I found your account and i want to tell you that your stories are, like, a GREAT comfort, the few you have are, it sounds weird but, in my opinion reading stories (or writing) about abusive relationships is an escape route to avoid falling into those relationships in real life, I mean, i read them and i get the adrenaline because of reading it instead of living them dhfjkshfsk so yes, they are also very, very well written <:

can i ask for a story where Connie is a little older thanreader, and constantly manipulates her with the excuse that he knows better and reader believes him, because, for a long time, he was the only older figure she had, something like that, I don't know. , bonus if reader cries hysterically in his arms (his fault, of course, he slapped her or something)

i really agree with your take on the whole writing about traumatic relationships because that’s how i feel. i’ve been thru so so much and i know it’s different but this is most definitely how i cope, im glad someone else can relate to me especially during these times i’ve felt so alone💗 you english is beautiful by the way, thank you 😊

tw: grooming - reader was 17 when she meant 24 year old connie / mental abuse / physical abuse - from connie and from readers dad / very mean and manipulative? connie / unestablished relationships / not proofread

such a baby

——————————————————————————————————

“really thought you were over that stupid shit y’know, (name)?” he looks down at you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and spits, “you’re still just a fucking kid.”

he hates it when you cry. you know he does, he knows he does, so you don’t know why it feels like him making it happen is always his main goal.

you sit there silently looking up at him as he scrolls on his phone. after a couple minutes he puts it down and looks down at you.

“you’re gonna have to find a place to go.” your eyes widen all the more and you feel your heart beat quicken. it scares you when he says stuff like that. find a place to stay? where could you possibly go? you feel like you’ve been with connie so long, he’s taken care of you for so long…

“w-what?” you get up suddenly, trying to ease your way into his lap. you’re get even more nervous even harder when he meanly pushes you away, you pretty eyes water.

“c-connie..! hic wh-what— how will i—?” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so shaken. you really can’t help it, you can’t imagine any life without connie. how could you? he’s the one that took you in, he’s the one that knows exactly what to do when you don’t, he tells you what to do when you’re just about to make the wrong choice. he’s shown you what love is when nobody else could.

while you’re breaking down crying you can tell connie’s losing his patience by the second, he’s getting up waving his hands all type of ways getting all in your face, yelling all types of nonsense.

“dammit (name), shut the fuck up, y’know i hate that crybaby shit, go fix yourself before i do it for you” when you don’t shut up he doesn’t give you a second warning, just slaps you clean across your face. you damn near fly across the room from the impact, connie’s just so much stronger than you.

“—oww ..!” your body shakes as you try to lift yourself up, your crying even harder now. “y-you’re a liar…! you said—you said hic you were d-done hitting me—!”

he stomps over to you, eyes wide and mad while he starts dragging you by your little arm to the front door, “who the fuck do you think your talking to?! i don’t owe you shit you know that, little girl?!”

connie goes to open the front door, “i’m fucking tired, (name) i’ll sleep like a fucking baby without your fucking crying tonight—”

when you don’t stop he freaks out a little more. he hates when you don’t listen.

“think i fucking won’t?” he gets louder, “think i won’t put you out this fucking house, right now?! i don’t give a fuck what time it is—!”

connie drags you back to your shared bedroom and starts ripping your clothes out wherever he can find them and putting them in so random bags, while you cry and hyperventilate. he doesn’t give one fuck, to him you deserve this shit. you’re always running your mouth.

“who got you all this shit, huh?!” he moves on to the vanity and starts packing all your cute little jewelry, breaking some in the process.

he stops for a second and just looks down at you. veins popping out of his neck as he screams, with the bag he’s stuffing all your belonging in tightly gripped in his hand and that mean look of sternness in his eyes, you realize just how how much older connie really is. just how scary he is. with him being 7 years older than you and all, you’ve always put connie on the high horse, always seen it as a flex. but you don’t think you’ve ever really seen it until now. how truly scary he can be.

“you wanna go back, (name)?” he takes a deep breath. “you wanna go back to that shit everyday? living in that fucking house, getting treated like some fucking shit?”

you sob when he finally lets go of your now bruised arm. he goes to sit on the bed.

you were 17 and connie had just turned 24. it was late out when you ran away from home. you were sick of it. your dad was terrible to you, all the yelling and screaming and the bruises—you couldn’t take it anymore. connie was one of your friends older cousin, you had meant him at her birthday party and you think you fell in love. he just seemed so…mature. at the end of the night when he saw you all alone, he went up to you and asked if you were alright. turns out your dad was pissed so he didn’t pick you up. connie couldn’t be more excited to hear that shit. cute little shy teenager, and she’s got daddy issues? he hit the jackpot. he ended up taking you home and giving you his number, in case you ever, “needed anything.”

you’d call connie whenever, no matter what. he always knew exactly what to say.

one night your dad blacked your eye and you called connie. connie showed up 8 minutes later and came barging in, beating the shit out of your dad. that was the last night you heard from your dad and the last night you ever weren’t by connie’s side. you’ve been living with him ever since. you’ll never forget that first night he held you in his bed. he whispered about how everything would be ok and how much he’d take care of you. and you believed it.

it’s been only 2 years since then and connie’s still that ever so cool senior that you look up to. you love connie to death and you don’t think you ever won’t. he knows you’re completely dependent on him now too, he thinks he'll always use it to his advantage.

“you’re such a baby.” you look up at him and he nearly melts, he wants to fucking ruin you. you eyes are all glossy and swollen from crying, your lips are stilly wobbly from the wailing, and your tears—don’t even get him started on the fucking tears.

connie thinks about how perfect you are.. you’re already as naive as you could possibly be, but the age gap just puts it more in his favor.

you look in his eyes to see if that gaze is still there…you know, the loving one even after everything, and it is.

“i love you….” you whisper it like it’s a curse, anxious for his answer.

connie smiles and kisses your forehead watching you light right back up just from the small gesture.

“i know you do.”

[munsonluhvr]

CRUSH PT 2

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader. word count: 3.8k. warnings: light cussing, teasing, fluff, probably misspellings (i'll revise later!) author's note: hello everyone! I hope this was a satisfying second part to 'crush.' I was so happy when I got such great responses to the first part. thank you all so so much.

previous chapter: part 1

taglist: @nix-rose

It’s been several days since Eddie Munson drove you home from school, and when you subsequently asked him out on a date. You have spotted Eddie in the hallways a couple of times since then, able to catch a smile from him when Chrissy wasn’t looking as you made your way to your next class. You had to admit, it made your day just a smidge better when you saw him. However, you hadn’t been able to interact any further… and he also hadn’t called.

You sit on the bleachers in the Hawkins basketball court, the cheerleading team taking a break from running drills to watch the basketball team practice. Outside, it was beginning to turn into the fall, the temperatures dropping rapidly overnight. It is a particularly cold day, the cold draft entering the court and chilling your exposed legs in your cheerleader skirt. The chilly environment and the boredom you feel watching the boys play basketball gives you the urge to take a walk and warm yourself up.

You lean over to Chrissy who sits next to you, intently watching Jake play. “I’ll be right back; I’m going to get a soda.”

As you stand up, Chrissy grabs your bicep. “Can you get me a water? I’ll pay you back later.”

You nod, sneaking away from where you and the cheer team sit on the bleachers and make your way to the double doors that exit the court. You stay against the wall, attempting to avoid colliding with any of the players. With ease, however, you make it out of the court unscathed.

It’s after school hours, leaving the hallways mostly empty. Clubs meet after hours too, gathering in various classrooms throughout the building. Otherwise, there is nobody here.

You walk through the hallway, sticking your hand into your pocket to find loose change that clinks as you walk. The soda machine is, conveniently, at the very end of the hallway and you quicken your pace, the hallways feeling too quiet for your liking. The hallway is lined with endless amounts of lockers except a gap in the wall where the wall breaks apart and you can turn right to another set of lockers and classrooms. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you walk right past Eddie.

“Y/n?” Eddie calls, jogging to catch up with you.

Your heart skips and you stop, backing up to find Eddie jogging to you. “Hey Eddie, what are you doing here?”

Eddie pulls the fabric of the t-shirt, which is his typical Hellfire shirt. “We’re having a Hellfire meeting; I just ran out to get a soda. How about you?”

You nod, “We’re having a cheer practice and we’re on break so I, too, left to get a soda.”

Eddie gestures forward, “May I accompany you to the soda machine then?”

You laugh softly, walking forward, “Please do.”

You’re only a few feet from the soda machine, leaving you and Eddie little time to talk. Eddie lets you go first, watching your fingers slip the coins into the machine. You press the buttons to order the machine to drop you a coke.

“So,” Eddie says, leaning against the machine beside you. His gaze is on you, and you soak it up, missing his presence since the day he dropped you off at home. “I’ve seen you in the hallways and wanted to talk to you but you’re always around Chrissy.”

You bend down, picking up your coke out of the slot. You insert more coins, pressing the buttons to request Chrissy’s water. After, you turn to Eddie, opening your can of coke. “You also have my number, Eddie.”

Eddie blushes, diverting his eyes from yours. “I know.. to be truthful, I’ve been nervous to call because I’m afraid I’d embarrass myself.”

You sip your coke, muffling a laugh. The machine drops Chrissy’s water out, making a loud thump when it drops it in the slot. “I suppose I’m a bit scary, I can understand the hesitance.”

Eddie nervously laughs, “That’s not what I meant.”

You look over at Eddie, his appearance remaining the same. Whatever cologne Eddie wore pulled you in, your knees weakening at the thought of being engulfed by it. Eddie’s eyes catch yours once more and tension grows rapidly between you. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but doors slam at the other end of the hallway which causes your eyes to break from his and look towards where the noise came from. Jason stands at the end of the hallway, his eyes on you and Eddie.

“You should probably go,” Eddie mutters, stepping back from you. While you don’t care what anyone would say about you and Eddie, the look on Jason’s face scares you. Even from far away, you can feel Jason fume. “I’ll call you tonight,” Eddie whispers, stepping over to take your place at the soda machine.

You start the walk towards the court, Jason walks towards you, meeting you halfway. “Was Munson bothering you? Alex told me he drove you home the other day.” Jason says, his eyes drifting towards Eddie who got his drink from the machine and was making his way back to the Hellfire club meeting.

“Jason, it’s fine.” You say, “What are you doing out of practice anyway?”

You attempt to pass Jason and head back to the court. Jason grabs your bicep, “You need to stay away from that guy, y/n. His club does, like, voodoo, sadistic shit.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Jason’s face contorts in a way that signals that he’s not impressed with you defending Eddie or the Hellfire club. “Are you into him or something?”

Your stomach twists, Jason’s line of questions making you nervous. “What if I was?”

Jason’s jaw slacks, “You’ve got to be kidding, y/n. You like Munson while dudes like Alex are into you?”

You roll your eyes, “I think you and Chrissy like Alex for me more than I do.”

Jason shakes his head, “No, no way. You can’t be.”

You shake out of Jason’s grip, “Just leave it alone, Jason. You make rumors about people you don’t even know.” Jason’s fingers loosen, allowing you to walk back to the court. You leave Jason behind you, and you make it into the court. The cheer team is just standing up, the basketball team standing around them, chatting with the girls.

You go over to Chrissy, her eyes instantly recognizing your concerned face. You hand her the water you got for her, then sit down on the bleachers. “What’s wrong, y/n?” Chrissy asks, sitting down next to you.

“Nothing,” you mutter, sipping your last drops of Coke.

Chrissy frowns, looking at the water bottle that rests on her lap. The perspiration from the outside of the bottle, seeps into the fabric of her skirt. She suddenly has no appetite for water.

Jason walks back into the court, and you can feel his eyes on you. You already know that from Jason’s perspective he thinks you’re tainted, confused, probably sadistic, too, just like the Hellfire club.

The coach blows his whistle, and your cheer coach signals for the team to stand up and begin to practice again. You stand up, placing your empty can on the ground. You slip your jacket off, the cold causing goosebumps to run up your skin. You move away from the bleachers, joining your team. You try to leave Eddie out of your mind, ignoring the altercation with Jason to focus on cheer practice. But it’s impossible; Eddie occupies your mind.

When you get to your house, you realize how sore your body is when you walk up the stairs to get to your room. You’re grateful that it’s Friday and you don’t need to go to school. When you got out of practice, it was pitch black out, the sun beginning to set early as the season gets nearer to winter. Your mom had picked you up, her car headlights illuminating the rest of the parking lot. You took the opportunity to scan the parking lot, looking for Eddie’s van but it was nowhere in sight.

As you're halfway up the stairs, your phone rings in your room. Despite your exhausted, sore body, you take the rest of the steps by two and make it to your room quickly. You drop your backpack on the ground, moving to sit on your bed. You pick the baby pink rotary phone and it’s stand up, placing it in your lap. You take a deep breath, picking the handle up.

“Hello?” you say, your heart thumping against your chest.

“Hey, y/n, it’s Eddie.”

“Hey Eddie, did you have to get your courage up before you called?” you say, a smile placed on your mouth.

Eddie laughs, “Maybe. How’d the rest of cheer practice go?”

You shrug, although nobody is there to see your reaction. “It was fine, pretty uneventful. There’s a game next weekend so our coach is having us practice hard. How was the rest of your Hellfire meeting?”

“We’re making real progress in the game we’re in. Did Jason give you a hard time?” Eddie asks, his voice curious.

You pause for a moment, wondering how much of the truth you tell. “Jason was…Jason but it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me what he thinks.”

Eddie is quiet at the other end of the phone, and you hear rustling at the other end. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow night since it’s a Saturday and all. Maybe we could go out to eat?”

You cover the mouthpiece of the phone with your hand, your legs kicking up and down. You compose yourself, removing your hand from the phone. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie says. “I could pick you up around 7?”

“Sounds good, I can’t wait.”

You and Eddie say your goodbyes, and you place the phone back on its stand which you place on your bedside table. You lay on your bed, the world around you seeming to spin. You wonder what you should wear or where you’ll go. You squeeze your eyes shut, already anxious to go to bed and wake up to tomorrow.

The next day seems to go by slow and fast at the same time. You thought about your date with Eddie all day, time seeming to drag on forever, rewind, and then drag on some more. But, before you knew it, you are standing at the front door, Eddie on the other side.

When you open the door, Eddie immediately offers you a beautiful smile as his eyes scanned your body and outfit. You had opted for a dress the went to your mid-thigh, black tights, and sneakers. For a coat, you stole your mother’s leather jacket from her closet.

“You look beautiful,” Eddie says, his eyes continuing to take every inch of you in.

You blush, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear. You look at Eddie too, he had changed out of his Hellfire teacher for what he thought was more date appropriate. Eddie didn’t have much nice clothes to begin with, so he tried his very best. Eddie had picked out his typical black jeans, a white t-shirt with one of his uncle’s more nicer jackets. Even though Eddie might argue the opposite, you thought he looked so good, tempting you to break good girl etiquette and invite him to your room. Instead, you follow him out of the house, letting him put his hand on your back as you walk to his van.

Like the day he drove you home, Eddie opens the door for you, letting you get into the car first. When Eddie gets in the car, your excitement increases, your fantasies coming to life.

“Where are we going?” you ask, setting your hands into your lap.

“There’s this new burger place downtown. I thought we could try there?”

You nod, the sound of burgers makes your stomach grumble. You hadn’t eaten anything all day, the excitement eating your hunger away. “That sounds amazing.”

Eddie pulls out of your neighborhood, aiming his car towards downtown Hawkins. “I’m really sorry if Jason or anyone is giving you a hard time about being seen with me.” Eddie hadn’t been able to tear his mind away from others in your friend group disapproving of you spending time with him.

You frown, “Jason is an idiot ninety-nine percent of the time. I don’t really care what he has to say.”

Eddie frowns now, surprised by your lack of concern. “But aren’t they your friends?”

You shrug. “Chrissy is my friend, Jason and everybody else just come by default.”

Eddie is surprised by your answers, confused on how a popular girl could not care about the innerworkings of popularity. Eddie decides to drop the conversation, feeling like he’s intruded on your life which he is still unfamiliar with.

You notice Eddie’s hesitance and you decide to pick the conversation up. “Tell me about the Hellfire club.”

Eddie looks over at you, then back at the road. Eddie tries to gauge how much of his nerd side you’ll receive well. “What do you want to know?”

You shrug again, opening to learning anything about the game or the club that he holds so close to his heart. “Anything.”

Eddie laughs nervously. “It’s not what you think it is, D&D is actually a lot of fun. The news makes it seem like it’s a satanic ritual but it’s just a fantasy game.” As Eddie discusses the game, his face gets redder and redder.

“And the boys that are in the club? What are they like?” You ask, remembering all the time’s you’ve seen Eddie with the small group that makes up Hellfire.

“They’re the coolest. All of us are outsiders, not fitting in anywhere. There’s seven of us in total; Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Gareth, Jeff, and Doug – but Lucas doesn’t really come around anymore.”

“Lucas Sinclair, right?” you say, having heard that name before. Suddenly, you remember that you know of Lucas because he’s on the basketball team with Jason. “Yeah, Sinclair, he’s on the basketball team.”

Eddie hums a sad sound. “Yeah, he’s gone to the dark side.”

“You seem really close to one of the guys,” you say, “It’s Dustin, right?”

Eddie laughs again, shaking his head. “Henderson is something else. He’s very passionate about the game.” You smile, imagining the group of boys playing the game. You don’t know anything about it, except that it’s a popular game with a complex perception about it from the news – and Jason.

Before the conversation could continue, Eddie pulls into the parking lot of the burger joint. It’s buzzing with activity, the restaurant busy and people standing in the parking lot, talking to others. You notice a couple familiar faces in the crowd, but you hope they leave you alone. You would like to pretend it’s just you and Eddie on the earth tonight.

Eddie parks easily, his van is the biggest car in the parking lot. Before Eddie can get out of the driver’s seat, you’re out of the car. You meet at the rear of the car, and you catch each other’s eye. You can tell he’s nervous, his movements unsure and rigid. You reach out your hand, a silent request to hold his hand. Eddie looks down at your hand and takes it swiftly. Your hand tingles when it connects with Eddie’s.

You begin your venture into the burger joint, the neon lights that line the outside of the buildings drawing you in. When you get to the entrance door, Eddie opens it, ushering you inside. There’s an entrance on the other side of the building, a stream of people entering as you do. You look to your left, spotting an empty table near the window. You turn to Eddie, “should you order, and I’ll go grab that open table?” Eddie nods, letting go of your hand.

You grab the table, beating the swarm of people that just entered the building. More and more people you recognize from school fill the building and you remember that you’ve heard boys on the basketball team rave about this restaurant. Clearly, it was a popular place for everyone from Hawkins High to go to.

Within a few minutes, Eddie arrives at the table with a tray of burgers and French fries. “I hope this is okay, I asked the guy who’s working what he’d recommend.”

You nod, helping Eddie place the full tray down safely. “Looks delicious.”

Just like you imagined the countless times about what a date with Eddie would be like, it was comfortable and easy. Once you unwrapped the burgers from their wrappers, the conversation flowed with ease – the food was great too. Eddie made joke after joke sending you into a constant stream of laughter. The table was small, causing you and Eddie’s knees to press against each other but of course you didn’t mind. The restaurant was busy and loud, the stream of people entering the building was never ending, but Eddie made you feel like you were in your own world with him. You wish the night would never end.

You were mid-laugh, Eddie telling a funny story about his uncle, when Chrissy and Jason visit your table. Eddie’s laugh trails off into silence, as he looked to the side to see the basketball player and your friend.

“Y/n,” Chrissy says, coming over to give you a small side hug. She looks across the table to offer Eddie a small smile. “Are you guys on a date?”

You nod, looking over at Eddie, then Jason. Jason clears his throat, clearly disapproving, but he puts his hand out to Eddie. “Munson.” When you told Jason, in the hallway, that he judges people without knowing them, it made him reflect. Jason thought of him as a nice guy, not a bully, and he realized he doesn’t really know Munson. All that he did know about him is that he’s a victim of a rumor all because of a board game. At that point, he decided to give Eddie a break. Eddie looks surprised as he takes Jason’s hand to shake it.

“Aw,” Chrissy coos, looking between you and Eddie. “Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Y/n call me later.” She waves, tugging Jason along.

Eddie looks at you, miffed about what just happened. You are too, very surprised by Jason’s courteousness. “That was weird,” Eddie says, starting to crack a smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Let’s not think about whatever that was too much.” Eddie laughs too, nodding his head. “Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie looks down at the table, noticing that there was no more food to eat. You nod, sliding out of the booth. You and Eddie clean up the table, dumping the trash and putting the tray on top of the trash container.

To your surprise, Eddie takes ahold of your hand, combining his hand with yours. With ease, Eddie whisks you out of the busy diner. Eddie follows you over to the passenger side, opening the door to let you in. Within two minutes, Eddie’s van is back on the road.

You bite your lip, anticipating Eddie dropping you off home and allowing the night to end. You didn’t want it to end, not yet. You turn to Eddie, “I don’t want to go home yet, I’m having too much fun.”

Eddie smiles, “I know just the place to go.”

You sit in the passenger seat silently, the hum of the radio filling the empty space. Eddie drives a few blocks before turning into a park. The streetlamps light up the edges of the park, the rest is draped in a dark cloak. From where Eddie parks the car, you can see a glimmer of water that’s sits in the middle of the park. The moonlight illuminates the small ripples in the pond, making the dark water shiny. “Do you come here often?” you ask Eddie as he turns the car off.

He shakes his head, “Not often enough.”

You both slip out of the car, Eddie placing his arm around your shoulder to steer you into the park. You like the way it feels with Eddie, so simple and easy. You think to yourself that it wouldn’t be hard to spend your free time like this, roaming Hawkins with Eddie.

Eddie guides you to the pond, stopping once you get to the edge of where the water meets the land. Eddie sits and you follow, settling yourself beside him. It quiet, and a little chilly but you put your thick skin on to be able to spend more time with your date. Ahead of where you sit, two swans drift passed. You watch closely as the large birds stay close together.

Beside you, Eddie rummages through his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You roll your eyes, “Eddie. Seriously?”

Eddie looks between you and the items in his hand. “What?”

“Those have been proven to give you cancer.”

Eddie cracks a smile, stuffing the items back into his jacket pocket. “I’ve been meaning to quit anyway.”

You smile too, considering you dislike the smell of smoke. You bring your knees to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. A lock of your hair falls into your face and Eddie is quick to brush it away. “You’re so pretty, y/n. Has anyone ever told you that?” Following your impulse, you lean over and kiss Eddie. Eddie responds quickly, pushing his lips back into yours. His hands reach out to grasp your waist, bringing your body closer to his. Your hands cup his face, ensuring that his mouth isn’t able to leave yours. However, it’s not like Eddie would pull away until you initate it. You sigh into Eddie’s mouth, the pressure and excitement that pulsed throughout you, finding a way out of your body.

Kissing Eddie is exactly, if not better, then what you have imagined. Your body tenses, then relaxes, when Eddie moves his hand from your waist to intertwining his fingers into your hair. Your bodies move as if the interaction with choreographed, your body lands in Eddie’s lap, chests pressed against each other.

Regretfully, after a few minutes, you pull away, embarrassed to acknowledge that you were out of breath. Eddie’s face expresses surprised, and you assume that was his first kiss – it was yours too.

“I- uh..” Eddie says bashfully. His eyes flicker away from yours to the pond that sits behind you. You lean forward, kissing his cheek. “I think this needs to be a daily thing; you and me, I mean,” Eddie says, returning his eyes to you.

You scrunch your nose, letting a laugh escape your lips. “Is that your way of asking me out, Munson?”

Eddie laughs too. “Yeah, it’s my lame attempt to.”

You nod, bringing yourself closer to Eddie again by hugging him. “I’d love to.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

hey, i love your blog, you’re so kind for doing all of this. kudos.

i was wondering if you have advice on how to not be terrified of sharing your work with the world? i write a lot of fanfiction (and someday hopefully some original stories) but i get so so anxious about ANYONE reading them so they usually end up rotting in my google docs, and eventually i stop writing them because i don’t get the motivation that comes from reader responses

but the issue is i’m not sure how to tackle this anxiety. as someone who has published works, do you have advice for this?

Tackling the Anxiety of Sharing Your Work

For my answer, I'm going to cobble together some bits from previous posts and add some new stuff. ♥

Sharing our fiction with others is one of the biggest steps we take as writers, and it can be scary no matter what you write. But, if you want to be published, it’s a necessary step. As with so many things in life, doing something that requires courage is often just a matter of taking a deep breath and doing it. "Ripping off the band-aid," as they say.

However, there are some things that might help ease the associated anxiety a bit:

1 - Try to Pin Down Your Specific Fears - One of the first things you may want to do is try to figure out what you're specifically afraid of or what's making you the most anxious about the prospect of sharing your work. If you can find the root cause, it might be easier to tackle the associated anxiety. Are you worried people:

will think your writing is bad?

won’t like your writing style?

won’t get your story/characters?

will judge you for what you write about?

will think less of you for writing at all or what you write about?

will blab about your writing to others?

will steal your ideas?

will see similarities between your story and others?

will make you feel tied to a project you might not complete?

I tackle some of these in the writing-related-fears portion of my Motivation master list.

2 - Don't Rush It - If you take the time to properly revise and edit your story, you can be confident in knowing you've put in the time and effort to make your story the best it possibly can be.

3 - Start Small - If you can, try sharing your story first with an "alpha reader," or in other words a trusted friend, family member, or community member who can appreciate your story. In this case, you might say you're not looking for specific feedback but just a general impression of what they liked about the story. This way, it's not about getting constructive criticism so much as getting over the hump of sharing it and getting the little boost of what they like about the story.

4 - Gradually Go Bigger - From there, you might try sending to a couple of beta readers and opening up to a bit more feedback. The great thing about this is not only are you conditioning yourself to sharing and getting the opinions of others, you can potentially use the feedback to iron out kinks in the story if there are any.

5 - Use a Pen Name - You might want to consider using a pen name for anonymity. Pen names have many different purposes, but much like wearing a mask at a party, they can decrease your inhibition a bit because it creates a bit of a buffer between the real you and your writing.

6 - Post and Let It Go - Many writers get around the issue by simply not engaging with reader feedback, and if you're someone who cares what other people think or are likely to be daunted by the prospect of criticism, this may be the best route for you to go. Now, I know that with fan-fiction in particular, reader feedback is often used for improvement. But the truth of the matter is, you shouldn't rely on reader feedback for improvement anyway. Alpha readers, beta readers, critique partners, and editors are a much better metric for where to improve. When you get your feedback elsewhere, you can post your story and let it fly on its own without worrying about what others are saying.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[parkerpeter24]

We need the date with pool instructor!Peter Parker

since you asked in bold-

pairing ➳ swim instructor!peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ slightly nsfw towards the end. making out and regular date stuff.

masterlist

“what have you got there?” you pointed behind his back but it was clearly evident that he was hiding a bouquet of flowers.

he finally brought it in between the two of you, standing at your doorstep, “i didn’t know which ones you like, so i got some of the most popular ones.” he chuckled nervously, handing you the mosaic of flowers.

you admired the roses, lilies, orchids and tulips, smiling wide as you took the bouquet from his hands, “i love them.”

you and peter had hung around the pool earlier in the morning but he told you that he wanted to take you out on a proper first date. so he suggested dinner and the boy was not even a second late.

as soon as the clock struck 7, he was there at your door, knocking and handing you these flowers.

the two of you made your way to the place he’d chosen for dinner, telling you about how it was his favorite place and the reason behind it.

“this was my uncle’s favorite place too.” you could tell by the way he smiled, so reminiscent, that it was a distant memory of his.

“it sounds great already.” you smiled, linking your arm with his as you walked, the place being just two blocks away from your place and all, “do you have a favorite?”

“oh, the chocolate truffle there is to die for!” you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his remark.

“so do you suggest we have that for dinner?”

“um, duh.”

dinner couldn’t have gone better. in fact, at one point you concluded it was the best dinner of your life. you got to know peter so much better. he was so much more than just the hot swimmer you knew from community pool who had once held onto your waist to teach you kicking. he was so much different from than any man you’ve ever met. so much better.

he told you about his school life and even though he didn’t highlight much, you could tell he was very good at everything he did. you got to know about his passion for science and that he was an assistant teacher of chemistry at esu just a year ago.

“how did i even score a date with you.” you wondered out loud, making him laugh.

he shrugged, “i’m honestly wondering the same thing.” you caught a hue of pink over his cheeks as he leaned forward, “it feels like i’ve been the only one talking all this time.”

“i don’t mind.” you flashed him a smile.

“no! you should tell me more about you.” he insisted.

and so you did. you told him about your likes and dislikes, about your favorite music and foods, about your only best friend who was there for you through thick and thin, about the good birthdays and the bad ones, about small things that you recalled from the past. and peter listened throughout, making you laugh with his reactions every once in a while.

“you were right. those were some good truffles.” you sighed.

the two of you found yourselves walking back to your place as the night wind drifted past you, making your hair flow with it. peter’s hand was in yours now as you leaned more towards him.

“told you.” he smirked, “i can never go wrong with a good dessert. that’s my superpower.” he chuckled.

“you seem to have a lot of them.” you smirked right back at him, watching as his face suddenly morphed into confusion.

“n-no. just the one, actually... that’s all i got.” you thought you were getting better at reading the brunette but his nervous laugh confused you a little.

“i meant to say that you’re really good in swimming, and you’re kind of smart at an inhumane level from what i heard, so...” you trailed off, letting out a chuckle to ease the situation a little more.

“oh.” he let out a breath of air, “right.”

in less than a minute, the two of you were climbing the strairs of your apartment building. your apartment was just on the second floor, thus, you opted for them.

after leaving you to your door, peter stood with his arms behind his back, right where he had been about two hours ago. the night seemed to have ended way too soon but you didn’t know if it was okay to invite him in.

“can you-”

“could i-”

both of you decided to speak at the same time, making the other one stop suddenly.

“you go.” peter chuckled softly.

“would you... would you like to stay? for a while, you know.” you gave him a small shrug, “we could watch a movie or...”

there was a slight pause as his eyes trailed over your lips as they moved. he responded with a nod of his head.

and in the blink of an eye you were pushing open your door, just to drag him along you inside the place by the collar of his flannel. his lips were on yours and hands placed on either side of your waist– this time for a better purpose. you just hoped your place wasn’t as big of a mess but your thoughts blurred as his frame pushed you against the wooden door, it making a sound as it locked in place.

peter’s hands were doing all the good things, setting your skin on fire as they trailed down to your hips, pulling your legs to wrap around his slim waist. your arms snaked around his shoulders as you tilted your head, only deepening the kiss that you started.

his teeth bit onto your lower lip and his tongue followed to soothe the blissful ache. you parted your lips further, tangling your tongue with his. a battle of tongues, only for peter to back off and let you take control. you both knew he was way too stronger than you.

your hand ran down the length of his arm, feeling the taut muscles of his biceps before. a slight squeeze from your hand as you wrapped it around his wrist and peter knew what to do.

he pulled you along with him, gracefully carrying you with him as he tried to find his way to your bedroom.

you pointed at the room in one of the corner and peter followed suit as your lips attached to the skin of his jaw. you trailed small kisses along his jawline, until they weren’t small anymore. you bit onto his skin, soothing the bite with your tongue just like peter had done earlier.

peter was quick to wrap his right arm around you, supporting you up as his left hand got busy with opening your bedroom door, walking inside before he kicked the door shut.

it was more than safe to say that the truffle wasn’t the best thing you were having tonight.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Can you forgive me?

John feels nauseous when Sherlock gets his will. They’re allowed to open the grave to prove the great detective’s theory. Sherlock wants John to come, though he really should’ve known better, according to John. It’s their second crime scene together since Sherlock came back from his faked death, and things are strained between them. Their co-habitation is tense and awkward, which makes John itchy and half-mad with anger and sorrow equally measured.

John’s told everyone that he went to visit Sherlock’s grave twice a month, but the truth is that he’s only been there once. He couldn’t bear to see the black gravestone with Sherlock’s name on it. It doesn’t help much that the grave that’s about to be opened, is only a few metres away from Sherlock’s fake grave. John hasn’t dared to look in the direction out of fear that he’ll do something terribly stupid, like falling apart in front of half of the Yard.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock murmurs beside him, having taken a break from pestering the men with the shovels.

“If you have to ask, the answer should be obvious,” John mutters under his breath.

His hands are balled into fists in his jacket pockets, his body stiff and alert. Sherlock draws a breath and is about to speak, when Lestrade calls him over. The grave is open.

“Empty, like you said,” Lestrade tells Sherlock. “How on earth did you know?”

Sherlock speaks rapidly, leading the yarders in the direction of the man who’s faked his death, and Lestrade takes his leave.

“Aren’t we going with them?” John asks hoarsely when Sherlock stands beside him again, gazing over at where his gravestone once was.

“No, they don’t need us anymore today. I’m taking you home, and then we’ll talk, and I’ll tell you why…”

Sherlock’s voice breaks and John looks shocked at him.

“Alright?” John asks and places a hand on Sherlock’s back.

Sherlock’s body shakes and John acts on instinct, forgetting all about his anger. He pulls Sherlock in for a tight embrace, relishing the sudden proximity of this madman.

“Can you forgive me, John?” Sherlock whispers with a trembling voice.

“I don’t know,” John says honestly. “But, by the state of you now, I guess it was much more to your absence than a crazy and exhilarating adventure. Tell me.”

John leads them to a secluded bench close to where John stood and begged a dead man not to be dead, two years ago. When John had told Sherlock about it, his reply had been – “I know. I heard you.”

His voice had been soft, even affectionate, but at the time, it’d just irked John. He wanted to scream and shake Sherlock and ask him why he hadn’t told John. Why he wasn’t allowed to come with him. Why he’d let him grieve like a widower. He hadn’t but it had taken all his willpower to act calm and just nod, pretending everything was business as usual. Which it wasn’t.

It should feel strange to hold Sherlock like this. Soothing him, stroking his back, whispering “shh”, and “I’ve got you”, and “I’m so glad you’re back”, and “I’ve missed you.” But the truth is, it feels utterly natural, a thing John’s longed to do for ages. Even before the Fall.

Sherlock’s head rests comfortably on John’s right shoulder, and his breathing eases, grows steadier. Time to confess.

When Sherlock’s finished telling John about the snipers, Moriarty’s unexpected suicide, his quest to hunt down and destroy the dead man’s network, ending it all by telling John about his last days away, in Serbia, captured and tortured; it’s John’s turn to break down. He weeps in Sherlock’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of Sherlock’s neck, letting Sherlock stroke his hair, rocking him, whispering “I had no other choice”, and “I would’ve taken you with me if I could”, and “you were always on my mind”, and “I missed you every second I was away from you.”

When they walk past the empty grave, John shudders. He turns around to locate Sherlock’s gravestone, but it’s no longer there. 

“Mycroft had it removed last week,” Sherlock says. That’s why I needed you to come along today, so that you could see it with your own eyes.”

John nods and turns to face Sherlock. He grips the lapels of Sherlock’s coat, pulls him closer, looking him square in the eyes.

“I forgive you,” John says softly and leans in to kiss Sherlock’s lips.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely @helloliriels @gregorovitchworld

[scekrex]

I’ve been feeling a lil dysphoric lately cause of shark week, do you think you could write something where Adam praises reader and raising his confidence? :,) also, I love ur work so much, it’s all so good 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Okay so I paused the smut I was writing to write this prompt instead bc my shark week ended a couple hours ago and I feel your vibe soooo much homeboy, just know that you're doing great okay? I'm proud of you <3 also I was a selfish lil asshole 'n' gave this a trans!male!reader undertone - it turned out a lil short but I hope you like it nonetheless and that it helps you a little, much love/p

Little soldier

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You looked up as Adam flopped down next to you on the couch, the first man was quick to pull you in his lap once he found a position that he considered comfortable. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder as his soft voice made you relax even more, “How’s my handsome man doin’?” You leaned into his touch immediately, desperate for the comfort his body warmth, scent and voice were offering. You hadn’t been that amazing for the past couple days and of course Adam had noticed and while he still wasn’t the best when it came to providing comfort with his words - he was learning how to do that though, knowing that you needed it every now and then - he was able to praise you, shower you in affirmation and love, and - of course - hugs and kisses. Your body felt icky, wrong even, more than it usually did and that state was affecting you mentally, draining you and making you want to hide underneath a gigantic warm blanket covered in Adam’s scent until it would eventually get better. You responded with an uncertain hum, you wanted to shrug your shoulders but due to Adam’s head resting on one of them you didn’t. You wanted the brunette to stay as close as possible. “Already?” he asked and once again you only responded in the form of a hum, this time an agreeing one with a light nod of your head underlining the quiet sound.

His arms around you tightened as he wrapped his wings around both of your bodies, the tips of his feathers gently brushed your chin and that caused your lips to curl up in a tiny smile, you loved it when he did that, loved it when he used them to shield your body away from the world and their judging eyes. And though no one was looking at you besides Adam - how could anyone, you were at home after all, just him and you - it felt good, made you feel a little more comfortable given the situation. “I’m fucking proud of you,” he mumbled as he turned his head slightly to press a soft kiss against your neck. You tilted your head to the opposite side, offering your neck to the first man, silently asking for more kisses, more soft spoken words that would ease the negative feelings you were feeling. “Holding up so fucking well for both you ‘n’ me, babes,” he continued to speak as he placed yet another kiss near your collar bone, he wouldn’t take this further, he wouldn’t try and place kisses lower than that, he knew that just as well as you did and you were grateful for it. The brunette didn’t stop at just two sloppy praises though, not when he knew that you were going through something, and though he’d never fully understand your feelings, he did accept them and never played them down. He knew that was important to you and he respected that. “I love you,” that statement was followed my a firmer kiss against your jaw, “So fucking much.” Adam rarely used the words, he saved them for vulnerable moments like this one. He was more of an actions guy than a words guy so he usually showed his love towards you by acting like he meant it. Hearing it, however, made you fully smile, not just a tiny one either. He knew you loved him too, he didn’t need to hear it back, you didn’t feel like talking and he respected that, yet he wanted you to know. “My badass little soldier,” usually you’d argue about how you weren’t that little, how Adam was just a fucking giant, but right now you haven’t had the energy to do so, so you took the praise as it was without arguing. When his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, you shuddered lightly, he noticed of course but decided to leave it uncommented. This wasn’t the right time for jokes and he was more than aware of it, he’d save his cocky comments for later, for when you’d be better.

“Fighting so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear and a kiss on your temple followed those loving words. Oh how you loved his soft side - yes he could be a jackass, but he truly loved you, the comfort he was trying to provide showed it and you were very grateful for it, surely it would be a lot harder to go through those phases without him - he was some sort of guardian angel to you. “I fucking promise this’ll be over one fucking day,” was it a promise he could keep? You didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. Not now, not when he was there, making it easier to live through this. “Babes,” he hummed as one of his hands came up to slightly turn your head towards him, your eyes locked with his and you saw the love they held for you and only you. That was something that eased your mind a little. He could have anyone - everyone - yet he had fallen in love with you. “You’re the most perfect boyfriend Father could’ve sent me,” he finished his sentence and then sealed his words with a kiss on your lips, a gentle one, there was nothing intended, nothing this would lead to, a simple yet so meaningful kiss. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips before you pulled Adam in another loving kiss.