#it made walking him on those days so much better

[coryndoll]

plot ── tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.

content ── reader being toooo pretty that drew is just like woah, drew being so observant ugh love him, reader not even trying to get his attention at all but ure just so alluring to him

authors note ── yea FUCK my series even tho i made that poll tbh im just so unmotivated. i saw this pic of drew n had some ideas for this lil oneshot of reader interviewing him post-premiere or something and him literally falling in love n reader noticing the little things n he becomes soheart eyes for u omg

you were a little nervous, to say the least. it was supposed to be a one-on-one interview, which somehow felt more intense than group ones with an entire cast. at least in those, the attention wasn’t entirely on you. but now? now it was just you and drew starkey, a handful of questions, and an awkwardly large camera crew standing just out of frame, watching everything. no pressure, right?

your boss had insisted that this interview focus on drew’s performance in his latest film. fair enough, but it also meant no backup—no costar to bounce off of or share the spotlight. it felt intimate in a way you weren’t entirely comfortable with, no matter how many times you’d done this. at the end of the day, it was just you sitting across from a celebrity while everyone else quietly judged your ability to hold a conversation.

you had almost turned this job down when you first started, not because of the nerves (though there were plenty) but because of the sheer vulnerability of it. still, the exposure wasn’t bad, and the paycheck? even better.

as you stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, the tension in your chest tightened just a bit. drew starkey, an actor you were only somewhat familiar with, sat casually in his chair. outer banks, hellraiser, the other zoey—you’d done your homework, skimming through his projects like your career depended on it. because, well, it kind of did. and he was . . . well, better looking in person, if that was even possible. the kind of face that made you forget you had questions to ask in the first place.

meanwhile, drew had been at this for hours. interviews were basically part of the job, but after a while, they all blended together. same questions, same conversations, just with different faces. he was tired but not miserable, holding onto the thought of dinner plans with some friends later that night.

interviews weren’t bad—he liked the connection when it happened, like the guy he was first interviewed by had laughed when he cracked a joke—but there was only so much charm drew could muster after a full day of talking about himself and the same film.

when you walked into the room, he barely glanced up at first. another assistant, probably, or someone from the crew running around to keep things moving. he didn’t pay much attention until you stopped right in front of him, introducing yourself and the network you worked for, arm extended for a handshake.

his gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, he forgot how to move, but he pulled himself together quickly, or at least he hoped it looked that way. he shook your hand, smiling the kind of easy, practiced smile he’d perfected over the years, but there was something a little shaky in his voice when he said, “nice to meet you.”

he sat back down, reminding himself to focus. you were a professional. he was a professional. this was just another interview. but it was hard to ignore the way his heart picked up every time you looked at him like that—focused, curious, maybe even a little nervous yourself. he wasn’t sure what it was about you, but for the first time that day, he couldn’t wait for the next question.

his hand went to his earlobe almost instinctively, a nervous habit he hadn’t really noticed until now. yeah, you were . . . stunning, in the kind of way that made him feel like he should stand up straighter or check his hair. if someone had told him you were a celebrity, he wouldn’t have questioned it. but the fact that you were here to interview him? that just felt unfair.

but the interview was smooth, the kind he’d done a hundred times before. the questions were predictable again, circling around the same themes: his character, the challenges of filming, the energy on set. drew answered easily, slipping into that familiar rhythm, but every so often, his focus wavered—not on the questions, but on you.

you glanced down at your list, scanning it for the next prompt, and then back up at him with those eyes. god, those eyes. drew swore they could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room, even though he knew there were at least ten crew members just beyond the cameras.

he noticed it, though—how bored you seemed, even if you were too professional to let it show. your smile was polite, your tone unwavering, but every now and then, you hesitated just slightly before asking him a question, like you were already tired of the script you’d been given.

and then there was him, barely able to hold eye contact. it was almost embarrassing when he caught himself smiling at you, just a small, almost shy curve of his lips, but it was enough for you to pause, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him.

"are you okay?" you asked softly, your own lips quirking into a smile that practically knocked the wind out of him.

it was such a simple exchange, but drew could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “yeah. yeah, i’m . . . awesome,” he managed, clearing his throat and looking away for half a second before his eyes found their way back to yours. he had to play it off, had to stay professional, but the way you smiled back at him, like his answer had made your day a little brighter? it felt like a win. still, he reminded himself: there was only so much time left. you were on a clock, and he couldn’t afford to waste it, even if you made it almost too easy to get distracted.

you just laughed, accepting his answer, but the moment lingered. your smile lingered. and the questions rolled on, one after another. nothing groundbreaking, but you kept it light, adding just enough to make it feel like a conversation. drew appreciated that. but eventually, after a particularly shared laugh—he couldn’t even remember what the joke had been—he leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity.

“okay, so what did you think about the movie?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. it caught you off guard; he could tell by the way your posture shifted, your pen stilling over your notes.

and then you started talking.

at first, it was simple—a few observations, some praise for the direction, the performances. but the more you went on, the more animated you became, your voice lifting slightly, your words flowing effortlessly. you dove deep, unraveling moments and emotions from the film like you’d been holding them in since the premiere. drew leaned back, one hand resting against his chin as he watched you, utterly mesmerized.

you talked about the subtlety of his character, how his guarded exterior felt like a shield hiding something raw and vulnerable. you mentioned the tension between the characters—the way their connection felt like a push-and-pull dance neither could fully commit to but couldn’t walk away from either. you dissected the music, the cinematography, how it all wove together like a symphony of yearning and restraint.

and the way you talked about his performance . . .

you didn’t gush, which he appreciated, but your words were thoughtful, specific. you spoke about his quiet expressions, the way he held so much in his body language—the hesitation in his glances, the way his character seemed to pull back just when you thought he’d lean in. it was like you’d been watching with a magnifying glass, picking apart moments even he hadn’t considered.

he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. not just because you liked the movie, though that didn’t hurt, but because it was you. you, sitting across from him, completely unaware of how captivating you looked while tearing apart his work in the best possible way. if someone had asked him to focus on anything other than the way you gestured, your fingers brushing lightly against the edge of your clipboard, or the way your lips curved when you spoke, he would’ve failed miserably.

drew just sat there, watching you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you weren’t just pretty—you were sharp, insightful, and clearly so much more than the routine questions your clipboard suggested.

“you’re good at this,” he said when you finally paused for a breath, and he meant it. but he couldn’t help the slight teasing edge in his tone, the way his smile softened just a little as his eyes met yours again.

[theemporium]

[3.6k] sometimes home is a place. sometimes it's a person. sometimes it's a bench that holds more memories than mat can fully handle, memories that are slipping through his fingers.

based on 'coney island' by taylor swift for the eras tour hockey fic challenge created by @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston!!

.

Present – November 2024 

Never in his life had Mat Barzal felt as pathetic as he did sitting on that bench in Coney Island.

It was cold as fuck, for one, which should have been expected on a day in late November in New York. The temperature was likely below freezing, the chill was starting to seep into his bones, and the jacket he had haphazardly thrown on was doing little to battle the weather.

Yet, it was barely a blip on his radar as the last few weeks properly washed over him. 

Despite the holiday season, there were (thankfully) not many people around to see Mat in all his pathetic and embarrassing glory. Most people were probably sane inside their warm homes, enjoying dinner with the people they cherish the most. It felt stupid to be envious of a city full of people but that is exactly what he was.

Because as Mat sat on that bench, staring out at the near empty beach, he felt like he was choking. 

On his feelings. On his memories. On his bitter resentment that, once upon a time, he was like those people.

That Mat used to have a warm home where he ate dinner with someone he fucking loved and cherished more than anyone or anything else in the world, but now he had lost that person. 

That he didn’t know where his person was or what they were doing, but they were doing much better than him as he sat on the same fucking bench where he first met them.

Where he first met you. 

…

August 2021

“You insist on this every year!” 

“Because it’s fun every year!” 

“And yet you still get pissy when you get beaten by a carnival game.”

Mat glared at him from over his shoulder, not faltering in his steps as he shot his cackling friend a look. “It doesn’t beat me—”

Beau snorted, giving the boy a fond shove as he pushed his way through the crowd to catch up until they were shoulder-to-shoulder again. “Dude, it’s a stupid game that you try every single time. And you fail every time.” 

“It’s rigged,” Mat huffed.

“Yeah, that’s the whole fucking point,” Beau deadpanned. “They are all rigged.”

“But I’ve beaten them all,” Mat whined, sounding young and bratty. “The ring toss is rigged more. It’s made to torture one’s mind—”

“Your mind.”

“—until they are driven insane and haunted by those stupid rings,” he continued to grumble, muttering an apology after he almost walked straight into a lady pushing a stroller.

“All for an arcade ring,” Beau mused, shaking his head. “Dude, you need to let it go.” 

Mat turned to glare at the boy. “No. I have won every single one of these stupid games. I am gonna win this one too.”

Beau opened his mouth. “Mat, dude—”

“And I am gonna get that stupid ring and I will wear it every single day of my—” 

The noise that left his mouth cut him short, something between a scream and squeak of surprise as he found his body hitting someone else instead of the clear path down the pier like he had assumed. He managed to stay on his feet, considering he was a six foot hockey player whose job revolved around being slammed into by other six foot hockey players. 

His victim? Not so much.

“Fuck.” 

It came out like a wheezed, as though the person was winded. Mat quickly spun around, the apologies already leaving his lips as he offered his hand out before he even took a look at the person he accidentally knocked over. And when he did, the apologies died on his tongue as he stared at you, his expression stuck between awe and something else that Beau would spend the better part of the next few years teasing him for.

“Do you even watch where you are going?” 

“Yeah,” Mat replied dumbly, staring at you like he was lost in a daze.

“Clearly not,” you murmured but still took his hand, giving him an odd look when it took longer than a few seconds before he realised and helped you up.

“I’m Mat,” he blurted out before he even let go of your hand. “And I’m sorry.” 

Your lips twitched. “I accept your apology, Mat.” 

“And your name?” He asked, not even trying to be subtle about it (if Beau’s snort was anything to go by). 

Mat feld winded himself when you smiled as you told him your name. 

…

February 2022

“So, let me get this straight.” 

“I am tired of repeating myself.”

“You’re taking her out on Valentine’s Day—”

“Not for Valentine’s Day!”

“Yeah, sorry, my bad. You are taking your friend who you are desperately in love with out on Valentine's Day. How silly of me to take that the wrong way.” 

Mat rolled his eyes, even if Beau couldn’t currently see him. He tucked his free hand into his jacket pocket, the other one curled around his phone as his eyes continued to wander over the pink and red decorations dotted all over the place. It made his nose scrunch up.

“It was the only day we both had free,” Mat insisted, his cheeks tinting pink for a whole different reason other than the cold, nipping weather of winter in New York. 

“No denial about the ‘in love’ part.” 

“Shut up,” he gritted through clenched teeth, as if anyone else could hear Beau except him.

“It’s just a little pathetic—”

“I didn’t ask,” Mat deadpanned, trying to ignore how hot his face now felt. “I don’t even know why I called you.”

“Because you needed a pep talk to finally make a move.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” Mat grumbled, ignoring whatever protests he received on the other side as he quickly pressed the red button before shoving his phone into his pocket with a huff. He was so lost in muttering to himself under his breath that he hadn’t noticed you approaching.

“Woah,” you laughed, hands up in mock defence at the way he jumped out of his skin. “You good?” 

“Yeah, I just—” He waved it off, an easy and genuine smile on his lips as he took in the way you were bundled up, an Islanders scarf around your neck. “Ready to have your ass kicked?” 

Your lips twitched. “Ready to cry over the ring toss again?” 

He did not, in fact, cry over the ring toss but he was undoubtedly grumpy by the time the two of you settled down on one of the benches looking out towards the beach, huffing as he took an aggressive bite from the pretzel that definitely didn’t fit his diet plan.

“C’mon,” you laughed, nudging your shoulder against his. “It’s just a game.” 

“It’s a stupid game,” Mat retorted.

“Beau was right, you take it way too seriously,” you commented, playful and lighthearted with a gleam in your eyes. Like you were so unaware that the comfort you shared with his friends made his chest tighten in the best way possible.

“You have a little—” He cut himself off, gesturing to the side of your lip.

Your brows furrowed, your thumb attempting to swipe the brown sugar away just to miss completely. “Did I get it?” 

“No, I—here, let me,” Mat murmured, reaching over to gently swipe the brown sugar away. But his thumb lingered, his eyes locked on your lips before glancing up at you. He waited for you to pull away but you just stared back.

For a moment, Mat wondered if you were going to suddenly pull away and pretend the small moment never happened.

For a moment, Mat’s stomach dropped at the thought this would be as far as he got with you.

And then you were leaning forward, your lips pressed against his and the pretzels long forgotten.

His body reacted faster than his brain did, kissing you back as the sweet taste of cinnamon and sugar overwhelmed him. The pretzel was left on the bench between you, his hands cupping your face as he sunk into the kiss, as he sunk into your embrace.

And only when you pulled back to smile at him did his brain seem to realise what had just happened. 

And only then did he grin right back at you. 

…

May 2022 

“God, hockey is brutal.”

Mat paused, raising his brows. “Just realised that?”

“Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about hockey after—” You cut yourself off, wincing a little as you stood in his kitchen, just dressed in one of his shirts (ironically, an Islanders one with the number thirteen above your heart) with a mug of coffee in hand. “Ignore me. Watch the eggs don’t burn.” 

Mat snorted. “What has made you realise hockey is so brutal?” 

“Just kinda thinking about it,” you shrugged, your gaze on the rim of your mug rather than his face. It made him frown a little. “Like, I know it’s a part of the sport but, fuck, all it takes is one bad hit and—”

“Woah, hey,” Mat’s frown deepened as he reached for you, the stove turned off, the eggs forgotten and his hand reaching to place the coffee mug on the counter. He took your face in his hands, his thumbs smoothing over the apples of your cheeks. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, but it sounded a bit wet and weak to his ears. He tilted your head up, his lips pressed together when he noticed how glossy your eyes were. “I guess I just never realised how brutal the sport was until I met you. And you guys play through so many injuries and I know your season is over now but the idea of you pushing yourself even more is just—”

“Come back home with me.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Come back home with me for the summer,” Mat repeated, a soft smile on his lips. 

You blinked again, your confusion only growing. “Did you not just hear me—” 

“I did,” Mat interrupted, nodding his head with the look of adoration still written plainly across his face. “And all I could think was, ‘wow, how lucky am I to have this amazing girl care about me so much’ and I just…I am lucky. So lucky. And I wanna show other people how lucky I am. I want to show my family how lucky I am.”

Your face softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mat murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered before leaning in, a soft and lingering kiss left on his lips before you pulled back. “And I’m lucky you care about me too.” 

“I’m really glad I bumped into you that day in Coney Island,” Mat confessed, something warm and comforting bubbling in his stomach at the sight of your smile. 

“Yeah, me too,” you hummed, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “And I love you even if you can’t win the ring toss—”

Mat groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

…

March 2023

“You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Mat blinked, his thoughts torn away from him as he turned to find you settling down onto the bench next to him, two pretzels in your hand. He murmured a small ‘thanks’ as he took one of the pretzels from you, staring at the sugary cinnamon sticks with little appetite. 

“Hide what?” Mat asked. 

“Mat,” you said his name in a way that made his chest tighten, so soft and gentle, like he was some scared animal you were slowly approaching. “Baby, I know you miss him. You don’t have to pretend.” 

His eyes dropped back to the pretzel in his hands. 

Because it was true. He did miss Beau. He missed Beau more than he cared to admit. And it was stupid because he knew this was how hockey worked, he had friends traded and sent away multiple times before. It was a part of the sport. 

But he just didn’t think it would ever hurt this bad, even weeks after the trade had happened. His focus should have been the season and the playoffs approaching. He should have been focused on the team. 

But every time he went on the ice, he couldn’t help but feel like a part of him was missing when he lifted his head and didn’t see Beau there, ready to accept his pass.

“There was this small part of me that just thought—” Mat paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “That we would be on the same team forever, you know? That it would always be me and him. That we would win the Cup together and…yeah.”

“I know,” you whispered, soft and soothing as you placed your head on his shoulder and let him lean his head against yours. “You never know. You two will find your way back to each other.”

His lips twitched into a sad smile. “Maybe.”

“You were always meant to find each other in this life,” you told him, sounding so sincere and genuine over the distant cheers and screams and buzzing noise of the amusement park behind you. “Just because you don’t live minutes away anymore, doesn’t mean that ends. He is always gonna be there for you, just like I am.”

Mat pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you.”

“Always, Mat. Always.” 

…

July 2023

“Home, sweet home!”

Mat winced a little as his voice echoed through the empty apartment, the walls bare and the place a little dusty. But it was yours and it made it perfect, it made the keys in his hand feel heavier and more special than his last set. 

“Fuck, we have so much to unpack,” you commented but you sounded happy. You both did, despite the state of exhaustion the last few days left you, attempting to pack up both of your apartments and moving into your new shared place. 

“That is a later problem,” Mat waved you off, reaching towards you so he could wind his arms around your waist and pull you closer. “We have a mattress and takeout menus, what else do we need?” 

“Preferably some sheets,” you teased, not even attempting to pull yourself out of his hold. You were content exactly where you were. “I’m, like, ninety percent sure you put them in the wrong box.”

“Blame the pretty one,” Mat huffed, cackling when you playfully pinched his hip. “Kidding, baby, you’re obviously the pretty one in the relationship.”

“We can both be pretty,” you rolled your eyes before laying your head on his chest, smiling when you felt him lean his chin on top. “Can’t wait to make this place ours.” 

“It’s gonna be so pretty so it can match us,” Mat murmured, grinning when you laughed in response. 

“It looks so plain right now, it’s freaky,” you commented, half-hearted with no real heaviness to your words. It would take a few days for you both to make it feel homely and you were looking forward to it. 

But Mat was already untangling himself from your hold, grinning as he began tugging you towards the kitchen. “We can put our first proper decoration up!” 

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “What? But the boxes are—” 

You cut yourself off as you watched Mat reach into the pocket of his sweatpants, grinning widely as he pulled out a small magenet and slapped it on the middle of the very bland fridge. He looked at the magnet with great pride before turning to you, his smile only growing.

You let out a laugh at the sight of the Coney Island magnet on the fridge. “Perfect.”

“Our first home,” Mat grinned, pulling you back in so he could smack a kiss on your lips. “The first of many.”

“I’m not moving for at least another few years,” you joked, smiling against his lips. “This whole thing was exhausting.” 

“As long as it’s with you, I don’t really care.”

…

January 2024

“I need your help.” 

“Oh god, what have you done?” 

Mat frowned at his phone for a moment, forgetting about the bundling nerves that had left him on edge for the last week. He was sure you were starting to pick up on it, even if you hadn’t mentioned as much—thankfully. But after a week of waiting, he finally had the perfect opportunity to call his sister whilst you were out of the house. 

“I have done nothing. Yet.” 

His sister sighed. “Mathew—”

“No full names needed,” he murmured, his cheeks burning as he leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling with determination that was quickly dwindling the longer the call went on. “I just…I need your help.”

“With?” 

“A ring.” 

His frown deepened when Liana laughed. “If this is about that arcade game Beau told me about—”

“What? No,” he sighed, his blush only deepening. “I need help picking a ring. A real ring. An engagement ring.”

His sister was silent for a few moments before she spoke. “Holy shit. You’re really gonna do it?” 

Mat couldn’t even bite back his smile. “I want to. This summer, maybe. But I need a ring and I was thinking you could help while we’re up for All Stars and—” 

“Sold. Done. I’m not letting you pick an ugly ring for my future sister-in-law.”

“She might still say no,” Mat reminded her, even if his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. 

“Of course she won’t,” Liana retorted, sounding so confident that Mat almost wanted to believe her wholeheartedly. “Especially if you let me help pick a ring.” 

Mat pressed his lips together. “I really want to find the perfect ring.” 

“We will. She is going to love it, Mat. She is going to say yes.” 

“Good,” he murmured, grinning. “Because she’s it for me. She’s the only person I wanna give a ring to.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Shut up.”

…

October 2024

He couldn’t even remember what started the argument. 

If he was being honest, the tension had been brewing for a while. It had been a combination of things and none of them had made the atmosphere around the apartment much better. Small, silly things that shouldn’t have been that bad but felt like the end of the world as they were thrown at you both, one after the other.

Mat knew it was bad.

He just didn’t think it was this bad.

It felt like the two of you had been at it for hours, and maybe you had. He couldn’t tell anymore, he didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours the two of you had stood on opposite sides of the living room, yelling and screaming and crying. It all felt too much, like it was getting bigger and bigger, just waiting to pop. 

And then it fucking did. 

“I-I can’t do this anymore.” 

And Mat felt like a deflating balloon, the air escaping his lungs as he found himself staring at you, his mouth unable to voice any of the thoughts he wanted to say.

“Maybe,” you let out a bitter laugh, pained and hurt and weak. “Maybe we just aren’t forever, Mat. Maybe you’re not ready to let anything but hockey be your forever.” 

And you were wrong. 

Deep down, Mat knew you were wrong and his brain was screaming for him to tell you just how wrong you were. Because the fight had escalated and spun out of control and he should have grabbed the wheel with both hands to stabilise you both.

But he was hurt and he was petty and he felt his mouth saying the exact opposite of how he felt. 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

The way your whole body deflated and your face fell would haunt his nightmares for nights to come, along with the sound of the apartment door slamming shut as you left and never looked back. 

…

Present – November 2024 

Once upon a time, the biggest challenge Coney Island provided him was the damn ring toss game. It had been like that for years. 

But now, he sat on the bench, the plastic ring between his fingers feeling as heavy as the other ring in his pocket. He didn’t feel victorious, he didn’t feel anything but emptiness. Because neither ring meant anything when he was here alone, when he had failed to give you both.

The ring toss was barely a challenge compared to returning to this damn bench almost every day since he had pulled from the lineup with an injury that just felt like a mockery on top of everything else. 

But he did it. He came back every single day because it hurt and he deserved it. He deserved to sit there and think about just what he lost. Because he had no idea where you were, he hadn’t heard a single word from you—not even Beau would tell him if he had heard from you.

Mat had let pride and something else just as stupid get in the way of his forever.

The least he could do was bear the cold, winter weather on that stupid bench until his fingers were too damn numb to hold the stupid arcade ring. 

The least he could do was spend the rest of his days wondering if there was a universe where things were different, where he still had you, where he was able to see you one more time.

The least he could do was let his own thoughts about losing you forever haunt him. 

The least he could do was hope the universe would give him one more fucking chance to fix everything with you, to at least give you the stupid arcade ring he once promised he would win for you.

The least he could do was apologise for not making you his centrefold like he knew you deserved.

Mat stared down at the phone in his hand, pressing your contact before he could talk himself out of it. He had to try. For you, for him, for the forever he knew you two could have. 

He had to try. 

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Franco x driver reader- She is a rookie who started before him and the others on the grid are protective of her since she has no one with her (her family never goes to see her or supports her). They start talking and the other drivers act like older brothers.

A/n— Hi 👋 @alex-wotton I went with the last one because it really stood out to me because I realized last night that if I was a f1 driver traveling to races would be pretty lonely as my mom has lupus and is in pain all the time and my siblings are still in school while my dad works out on the road. I will also be doing the others to.

Oh one more thing this is just a little look into the big fic around this request I’ll be doing later… depending on how well this does.

"They mean well" — Franco Colapinto x fem! rookie diver! Reader

Fluff slightly angsty

Word count—1122

Summary — Franco befriend's the female Alpine rookie the only problem is that he now has to deal with her guard dogs.

The first few weeks on the grid were a whirlwind, especially since you were a rookie in a sport where every second counts, and every move you make is scrutinized. It was hard, almost overwhelming, and though you knew the other drivers were competitive, you quickly realized that there was a quieter, more supportive side to them. You couldn’t deny how much it helped to have the older drivers looking out for you.

Lando had taken to teasing you right away. His cheeky humor and constant lighthearted comments were always enough to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. “You’re doing better than most of the vets, you know,” he’d say after a particularly good lap, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Next time, you’ll have to give me some pointers!”

Max, who often seemed aloof to others, was surprisingly attentive. He noticed when you were on your own, after long days when you would simply wander the paddock, minding your own business. Without a word, he would sidle up next to you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and talk about the most mundane things—anything to take your mind off the pressure. “Have you ever tried the coffee from the new stand near the paddock? Best one in town,” he’d comment, knowing full well it was an excuse to pull you into a conversation that wasn’t about racing for once.

Charles, ever the older brother type, was the one who would make sure you didn’t slip into your head too much. He could tell when the weight of everything was starting to build up on your shoulders. “Hey,” he’d say, voice gentle but firm. “You’re doing fine. Don’t let the stress get to you. You have a team behind you.”

And then there was Franco. He was quieter than the others, but his presence was undeniable. He’d only just joined the grid, and the others were quick to embrace him, but it was clear that his personality was different—calmer, more reserved. You found that, over time, you felt a quiet connection with him. It wasn’t an in-your-face, loud support, but a steady, reassuring presence.

One evening, after another intense qualifying session, you found yourself walking alone by the garages, replaying every corner of the track in your head. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but you didn’t want to be a burden to the others, so you walked it off in silence. Franco noticed you from across the paddock and, with a knowing look, excused himself from a conversation he was having with Lando.

When he reached you, there was no fanfare, just a casual ease that made you relax almost immediately.

“Hey, everything okay?” Franco asked, his voice soft yet direct.

You smiled, a little weary, but grateful. “Just thinking about the session. Could’ve done better.”

He shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. “You did fine. We all have those moments, don’t overthink it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Being the rookie and feeling like you’re always falling short.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before replying. “I get it. I’m still the new guy here too, remember? But honestly, the others are looking out for you. They’ve got your back.”

The way he said it was simple, but there was a sincerity behind it that made something inside you relax. Franco wasn’t offering empty words—he meant it.

And it wasn’t just him. The next time you walked into the paddock and bumped into Max, he clapped you on the shoulder with a grin. “You looked a bit off yesterday. If you need a break, you know where to find me.”

Lando, catching wind of the exchange, chimed in from a few feet away. “Yeah, don’t make us have to drag you into our fun. We’re here for more than just the racing.”

The protectiveness came in waves. Sometimes it was subtle—Charles, pulling you aside to offer advice on staying focused during the race, or Lando, joking around to make you laugh when the stress of the weekend was beginning to get to you. But sometimes, it was a little more overt.

The first time you really felt the weight of their protectiveness was after a particularly tough race, where you finished outside the points. The media was relentless, questions flying about whether you were cut out for the sport, and you could feel the eyes of the paddock on you.

As you were heading back to your garage, head down, trying to shut out the noise, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Max.

“You don’t let them get to you,” he said quietly, looking you in the eyes. “It’s one race. And you’ll get them next time.”

Before you could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin plastered across his face. “Max is right, of course. And if they keep giving you trouble, just let me know. I’m pretty good at handling the media.”

Charles joined them, his voice more serious than usual. “We’ve all been there. Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. We’re all in this together.”

That was when it hit you—this wasn’t just about the competition on the track. They truly cared about you, and despite the pressures of racing, they weren’t about to let you face it alone.

Franco appeared just as they were finishing up, walking over to the group with a quiet smile. “Everyone’s right,” he added, offering a knowing look. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around. No need to fight your battles alone.”

From that moment on, you felt the weight of their protectiveness more than ever. It wasn’t just about them looking out for a rookie; it was about them making sure you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone on the grid.

The bond between you and Franco deepened as the weeks went on. In between races, the two of you shared quiet conversations in the back of the garage, or while waiting for your cars to be prepped. You spoke about everything—racing, family, the weird quirks of the Formula 1 lifestyle, and even the things you’d been avoiding thinking about. Franco’s steady support and dry humor became something you could rely on, and the way he listened without judgment made him one of the few you truly felt comfortable with.

In a world that often felt like a competition to survive, you finally understood: you had people here, and they weren’t just teammates or rivals—they were your family.

And Franco, despite being new to the grid himself, was starting to feel more like a brother than just a teammate.

[m4rv3l-girl]

The Encounter

Bucky x Y/N

Set during civil war, Bucky goes to a bar in Romania…perhaps his love for plums might find him a lady….

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected P in v sex. Fingering. Daddy kink. Plums. 😉

The bar wasn’t anything special, tucked away in the less-trafficked alleys of Bucharest, a place where anonymity was as much a selling point as the cheap drinks.

The neon lights inside hummed faintly, illuminating the faded wooden bar and mismatched stools. The air carried the faint tang of spilled beer and cigarette smoke—a combination that could almost be called charming if you squinted hard enough.

Bucky liked this place. It was quiet, overlooked, and far removed from the chaos he’d left behind in Washington, D.C. He kept his cap low as he slipped onto a stool in the corner, his metal arm hidden beneath the sleeve of his jacket. Nobody here paid him much attention, and that was exactly the way he wanted it.

That was, until she walked in.

She didn’t so much enter as command the room, boots clicking against the sticky floor as she made her way to the bar. Her grungy yet effortlessly cool aesthetic set her apart: ripped jeans, a vintage band tee, and a leather jacket that had clearly seen better days. Her hair fell in soft waves, and when she slid onto the stool a few spaces down from him, her lips curled into a smirk as she flagged down the bartender.

“Plum martini, please” she said, her voice low and honeyed with an edge of sarcasm. “And make it strong.”

Bucky froze mid-sip of his beer.

Plums.

The request yanked him from his own thoughts, stirring something almost primal in him. He hadn’t tasted a plum in decades, but the memory of their sweetness, their simplicity, still lingered. He glanced her way, his curiosity piqued.

The bartender nodded, and within minutes, a martini glass was set before her. She wrapped her fingers around the stem, her rings clinking softly against the glass.

“Not the usual choice,” he found himself saying before he could stop himself.

She turned her head, her brows arching in surprise. Her gaze landed on him—blue eyes meeting hers—and her smirk widened.

“And beer is?” she shot back, taking a deliberate sip of her drink.

Bucky chuckled, a sound he hadn’t made in longer than he cared to admit. “Fair point, doll.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a second, before she set her glass down. “Doll, huh? Bold of you to assume I’d let you get away with that.”

“It suits you,” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder.

She studied him for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if trying to puzzle him out. There was something about him—his quiet demeanor, the way his shoulders hunched just enough to seem unapproachable, but not enough to feel entirely cold. The dark baseball cap didn’t do much to hide his sharp jawline or those piercing eyes that looked like they’d seen too much.

“Well,” she said finally, lifting her glass toward him. “If I’m ‘doll,’ what does that make you?”

He leaned back slightly, his lips twitching in a barely-there smile. “Depends. What do I look like?”

Her eyes flickered over him, sharp and assessing. “Like trouble,” she said, her tone playful but her gaze unwavering.

“Not wrong,” he muttered, taking another sip of his beer.

“What’s your name?” she asked, leaning her elbow on the bar as she turned to face him fully.

He hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t used his name in a long time—hadn’t really needed to. But something about her made him want to offer something, even if it was just a piece of himself.

“James,” he said after a beat.

Her lips curled again. “James, huh? Classic. I like it. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, testing the sound. It rolled off his tongue easily, naturally. He liked it, too.

She smiled and took another sip of her martini, and for a moment, the two of them sat in comfortable silence, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

“What brings you here, James?” she asked eventually, her tone casual but curious.

“Needed a drink,” he replied, deflecting. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she could tell he was holding back, but she didn’t press. Instead, she nodded toward his nearly empty beer. “Well, clearly, you need another. You stick to beer, or are you brave enough to try something new?”

He raised a brow, intrigued by the challenge in her voice. “What do you have in mind, Kitten?”

Her laugh was soft but genuine, and he swore he saw her cheeks flush slightly at the nickname. “You’re really doubling down on the pet names, huh?”

“They fit,” he said simply, his tone low and steady.

“Sure they do.” She waved the bartender over and ordered two shots of plum brandy. “You like plums, James?”

His eyes flicked to her, sharp and almost suspicious. “What makes you ask?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t know. You just give me... vintage vibes. And plums feel vintage, don’t they? Old-fashioned. Classic.”

The corner of his mouth twitched again, the closest thing to a smile she’d seen so far. “Yeah. I like plums.”

She grinned, triumphant, and slid one of the shots toward him. “Then this one’s on me.”

He studied her for a moment, the shot glass sitting untouched between them. She was bold, confident, and had an edge to her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But there was something else—something beneath the surface that reminded him of home, of the way things used to be.

With a slight nod, he picked up the glass. “To... plums,” he said, his voice tinged with dry amusement.

She clinked her glass against his. “To plums.”

They drank, and the burn of the brandy was immediate, warming him from the inside out. It wasn’t just the alcohol, though. It was her—the way she laughed softly as she set her glass down, the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light.

“So, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, his tone teasing but her gaze steady. “What’s your deal? You just passing through, or are you sticking around for a while?”

“Depends,” she said, mirroring her earlier words. “What’s here to stick around for?”

He smirked, his gloved fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

She raised an eyebrow at his response, smirking as she leaned forward. “Oh, I see how it is. The mysterious type. Let me guess, James—you’re one of those guys who likes to stay quiet, brood in the corner, and make everyone wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Bucky tilted his head, her words hitting closer to home than she likely intended. “You saying that like it’s a bad thing?” he asked, his tone light but with a teasing edge.

“It’s not,” she admitted, swirling the remnants of her drink in her glass. “It’s intriguing. Gets people to ask questions. But it’s also a little predictable, don’t you think? Quiet guy, dark past, hiding out in a bar? Feels like I’ve read that novel before.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and almost sheepish. “Maybe. But not every story’s the same, Kitten.”

She leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other as she considered him. “Alright, then. Prove it. Tell me something that makes your story different.”

Bucky paused, caught off guard by the challenge. He wasn’t used to opening up, especially not to strangers. But there was something about her—something in the way she met his gaze without flinching, as if she wasn’t afraid of what she might find there.

“I don’t talk much about myself,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “Not to most people.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s... complicated.”

She rolled her eyes, though there was no real malice in it. “Everything’s complicated. You’ll have to do better than that.”

Bucky studied her for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Let’s just say I’ve made some mistakes,” he said eventually. “Big ones.”

Her expression softened slightly, though she didn’t let up. “Who hasn’t? The question is, are you trying to fix them?”

He blinked, her words striking a chord he hadn’t expected. It was such a simple question, but it carried a weight he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his. “Honest. I like that.”

He frowned slightly, confused by her response. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she said with a small shrug. “Most people try to hide the messy parts of themselves. Pretend they’ve got it all figured out. It’s refreshing to hear someone admit they don’t have all the answers.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his empty beer bottle.

“Alright, James,” she said after a moment, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Your turn. Ask me something.”

He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. “What makes you think I’ve got questions?”

“Because everyone does,” she said simply. “And I’m an open book. Mostly.”

He considered her for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. “Why the plum martini?”

She blinked, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t strike me as the fruity drink type,” he said, his tone even but his eyes sharp. “Figured you’d go for whiskey or something stronger.”

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But the plum martini’s got a little history for me. My grandma used to have this plum tree in her backyard, and every summer, we’d make jam together. She’d let me sneak a few plums while we worked, even though she pretended to scold me for it. Drinking this kind of reminds me of her.”

Bucky’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sounds like she was a good woman.”

“She was,” Y/N said with a small nod. “Tough as nails, but with a soft spot for me. Guess I get my attitude from her.”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone teasing.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment or an insult, James?”

“A compliment,” he assured her, the smile on his face growing just a fraction.

“Good,” she said, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand. “Because I was about to ask if you wanted to step outside and say that again.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’d win, Kitten. No question.”

“Damn right, I would,” she said with a wink.

The playful banter continued, the walls Bucky had built around himself slowly starting to crumble. She was disarming in a way he hadn’t expected—sharp and witty, but also warm and understanding.

As the minutes stretched into hours, they moved from teasing quips to deeper conversations. She told him about her job at a local record store, how she spent her days surrounded by vinyl and vintage posters. He listened intently, asking questions and even surprising her with his knowledge of jazz and swing music from the ’40s.

“You really are an old soul, huh?” she teased, nudging his arm lightly.

“Something like that,” he said, his tone laced with something she couldn’t quite place—nostalgia, maybe, or regret.

She didn’t push, sensing that there were things he wasn’t ready to share. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, I think it’s charming.”

“Charming?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “You don’t see that kind of old-school vibe much these days. It’s refreshing.”

He didn’t respond right away, but the way his gaze softened told her he appreciated the sentiment.

Eventually, the bartender called last call, and the reality of the night coming to an end settled over them.

“Guess it’s time to head out,” she said, standing and grabbing her jacket.

Bucky stood as well, his movements slow and deliberate. “You walking home?”

“Unless you’re offering to walk me,” she said, her tone teasing but hopeful.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Come on, Doll. Let’s get you home.”

Bucky shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as he walked beside her, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The streets were quiet, the hum of distant traffic the only sound besides their footsteps on the pavement. Y/N glanced up at him occasionally, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You didn’t have to walk me home, you know," she said, breaking the silence.

He shrugged, keeping his eyes ahead. "Didn’t feel right letting you walk alone. City can get rough at night."

She smirked, tilting her head toward him. "Are you saying you’re my knight in shining armor, James?"

"Not exactly," he said with a faint chuckle, "but I’ll take the compliment."

The banter came easy now, the tension from earlier melting away with every step. When they reached her apartment building, she paused at the stoop, turning to face him.

"This is me," she said, gesturing to the old brick building behind her.

He nodded, rocking back on his heels. "Looks like a nice place."

"It’s got charm," she said with a grin. "Wanna come in for a drink? Least I can do for my, uh, unofficial bodyguard."

Bucky hesitated, the offer catching him off guard. But there was no hesitation in her gaze, only warmth and genuine curiosity.

"Sure," he said finally.

Her apartment was small but cozy, with mismatched furniture and walls lined with shelves full of books and records. A soft lamp in the corner bathed the room in a warm golden glow, and the faint scent of vanilla lingered in the air.

"Make yourself at home," she said, tossing her keys onto a side table and slipping off her jacket. She disappeared into the kitchen, calling out, "What’s your poison? I’ve got beer, wine, whiskey...water, if you’re feeling particularly adventurous."

Bucky chuckled, sitting on the edge of the couch. "Whiskey’s good."

A moment later, she returned with two glasses, handing one to him before plopping down on the couch beside him. She tucked her legs under her, her knee brushing against his as she turned to face him.

"Cheers," she said, raising her glass.

He clinked his glass against hers, the sound soft and almost intimate in the quiet room.

They sipped in silence for a moment before she leaned back against the cushions, studying him.

"So, James," she began, a playful lilt in her voice. "What’s your story? And don’t give me that ‘it’s complicated’ nonsense again."

He smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "It really is complicated."

"Try me," she said, her gaze steady and unflinching.

He exhaled, his fingers tapping against the glass. He wasn’t sure why he felt the urge to share, but something about her made him feel...safe.

"I’ve been through some things," he said carefully. "Seen and done things I’m not proud of. Spent a long time trying to figure out who I am, where I fit in the world."

Her expression softened, but she didn’t interrupt. She just waited, giving him the space to continue.

"It’s like...coming back to a world that’s moved on without you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you’re not sure if you even belong in it anymore."

She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his. "That sounds...lonely."

"It is," he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She reached out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "You’re not alone now," she said gently. "You’ve got people who care about you, right? Friends? Family?"

He hesitated, the weight of her question settling over him. "Some," he said eventually. "But it’s not always easy to let them in."

"Why not?" she asked, her tone curious rather than judgmental.

He looked down at his glass, his thumb tracing the rim. "Because once people see the real you—the parts you try to hide—they might not stick around."

She frowned, her grip on his arm tightening slightly. "That’s bullshit, James. The people who matter won’t run. And anyone who does? They’re not worth your time."

Her words were blunt, but they carried a conviction that he couldn’t ignore.

"You really believe that?" he asked, looking up at her.

"I do," she said firmly. "Life’s too short to waste on people who don’t see your worth."

He studied her for a long moment, the warmth in her eyes stirring something deep inside him.

"Thanks," he said softly.

She smiled, her thumb brushing against his arm before she pulled her hand away. "Anytime."

They fell into an easy conversation after that, the topics shifting from heavy to light. She told him about her favorite records and her dream of opening her own little shop one day. He shared bits and pieces about his love for old books and the time he spent tinkering with motorcycles.

The hours slipped by, the world outside fading away as they sat there, two strangers slowly becoming something more.

Eventually, her head tipped back against the couch, her eyes growing heavy. She stifled a yawn, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Guess I kept you longer than I planned," she said with a sheepish smile.

"I don’t mind," he said, his voice low and steady.

She looked at him for a moment, her smile softening. "Well, if you ever feel like talking again, you know where to find me."

Bucky nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. "I’ll keep that in mind, Kitten."

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Good. Now, let me grab you a blanket for the couch. It’s too late for you to be wandering the streets."

Y/N stood up and stretched, the hem of her shirt rising slightly as she reached her arms overhead. Bucky’s eyes flicked to the motion before he quickly looked away, focusing instead on his half-empty glass of whiskey.

"You don’t have to do that," he said, standing and setting his glass down on the coffee table. "I can head out—it’s no problem."

She turned, hands on her hips, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "What kind of host would I be if I let you walk home at this hour? Besides, You weren’t kidding about the city being rough at night. And I doubt you want to deal with random drunks yelling at you from across the street."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You think I can’t handle myself?"

"Oh, I’m sure you can," she said with a chuckle, walking past him to grab a blanket from a basket near the armchair. "But why bother when you can have a perfectly good couch right here?"

Bucky hesitated, the warmth of her offer sinking in. It had been a long time since someone had cared about his well-being like this.

"Alright," he said finally, his voice soft. "If you’re sure."

"I’m sure," she said, tossing the blanket onto the couch. "Pillow’s over there if you need it."

As she stepped closer, her expression softened, the teasing replaced by something quieter, more sincere. "You’ve had enough lonely nights, haven’t you?"

Her words hit him like a gentle blow, not painful but heavy with understanding. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Well, not tonight," she said firmly, her hand brushing his arm as she stepped back. "Now, do you want another drink, or are you good?"

"I’m good," he said, his voice a little rough.

"Alright, then." She gave him one last smile before heading toward her bedroom. "Goodnight, Bucky." -

"Y/N."

It wasn’t loud—barely above a murmur—but there was a weight to it that made her pause. She glanced back over her shoulder, finding him still standing near the couch, one hand brushing through his hair like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

"Yeah?" she prompted, tilting her head slightly, her expression curious.

His lips parted, then closed, like the words were stuck somewhere deep. For a second, she thought he might brush it off entirely. But then his blue eyes found hers, and there was something unguarded in his gaze, something raw.

"I..." he started, his voice quiet. "I don’t want to be alone tonight."

Her chest tightened at the vulnerability laced in his tone. It wasn’t desperation—Bucky Barnes didn’t seem like the kind of man who begged for anything. It was more like an admission, one that cost him something to say out loud.

"Okay," she said simply, her voice soft but steady.

She turned fully toward him, walking back into the living room. Her bare feet padded lightly on the floor as she stopped just a few feet from him, close enough to see the flicker of relief in his expression.

"I’ll stay for a while," she added after a beat. "Come sit with me?"

For a moment, he just looked at her, like he was trying to figure out if she really meant it. Then, with a small nod, he moved toward the couch.

She settled into the cushions, patting the spot beside her. He hesitated only briefly before sitting down, the proximity bringing a faint warmth to the air between them.

"Do you do this for all the random guys you meet in bars?" he asked, the faintest hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

"Only the ones who don’t bolt when I ask for their names," she shot back, her tone light but her eyes steady on him.

A low chuckle escaped him, and she felt the tension in the room ease slightly.

"Guess I made the cut, then," he said, leaning back slightly, his metal arm resting along the back of the couch.

"Guess so," she replied, leaning back as well, her legs tucked under her.

For a moment, they sat in silence. It wasn’t awkward, though. If anything, it felt... comfortable. Like they didn’t need to fill the space with words.

"Thanks," he said suddenly, his voice soft.

"For what?" she asked, glancing at him.

"For... this," he said, gesturing vaguely to the room. "For not asking too many questions. For not running the other way when you saw—" He stopped himself, his jaw tightening for just a second.

"Hey," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "You don’t owe me an explanation. Whatever it is, whoever you are—it doesn’t scare me, okay?"

His eyes flicked to hers, and for a moment, she thought he might say something else. But then he just nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a quiet smile.

She reached out without thinking, her fingers brushing lightly against his metal hand where it rested on the back of the couch.

"It’s not the first time I’ve met someone carrying a heavy load," she said softly. "And it probably won’t be the last. But you don’t have to carry it alone tonight."

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly at her words. He looked down at her hand, the way it lingered against his, warm and steady.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving.

"Maybe I just have a soft spot for mysterious guys with good taste in whiskey," she teased lightly, though her tone held an undercurrent of sincerity.

His lips twitched into a real smile this time, one that reached his eyes. "Lucky me, then."

They sat there for a while longer, the only sound the steady tick of the antique clock on the mantle.

She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder, and Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body against his was a stark contrast to the cold metal of his prosthetic, a reminder of the vast differences between them. Yet, in that moment, all he could feel was the connection that had grown stronger with each shared secret, each stolen glance.

The couch was not built for two, but somehow, they made it work. Her legs curled underneath her, and she fit perfectly into the space beside him. He could feel her breathing, slow and steady, as she dozed off, the events of the evening catching up to her.

Bucky watched her, his heart beating a rhythm that was both familiar and new at the same time.

He knew he should be on guard, his instincts honed for danger, but all he wanted was to hold her, to keep her safe, to let the peace of this moment seep into the cracks of his damaged soul.

With a gentle sigh, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a brief second.

The room grew quiet, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between them all evening. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and she searched his gaze for any hint of what was to come. The moonlight spilled through the window, casting a silver glow across her features, making her look ethereal, like a creature not of this world.

Bucky’s thumb traced the line of her jaw, the pad of his finger brushing over her cheekbone before his hand found its way into the softness of her hair.

He felt the warmth of her breath against his neck as she exhaled a contented sigh.

Slowly, as if afraid she might break, he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving hers. The space between them narrowed, the anticipation building like the crescendo of a symphony. Their lips met, tentative at first, as if testing the waters of a newfound intimacy. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as the walls they’d built around themselves crumbled to dust. It was a kiss filled with the promise of something more, a silent declaration of the feelings they’d both been too afraid to voice.

Her arms slid around his neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair as she pulled him closer. His hand found the small of her back, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The kiss grew hotter, more insistent, as the passion between them ignited like a wildfire. They broke apart for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, their eyes searching the other’s for any sign of doubt or regret. Finding none, Bucky leaned back in, capturing her mouth once more in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

Their bodies aligned, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart against her chest.

——-smut——-smut———smut——-smut——-smut——-smut——-

It was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that he was real, that this moment was not just a figment of her imagination. His hands moved to the zipper of her jacket, pulling it down with a whisper of sound. She shrugged it off, her eyes never leaving his as she revealed the soft fabric of her blouse beneath. The air grew charged as he placed his hand on her bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending waves of desire through her.

Their kisses grew more frantic as they moved closer, the fabric of their clothes seeming to melt away as their hands explored each other. The couch creaked under their weight as they shifted, the springs protesting against the passion that had taken them over. They were a tangle of limbs and emotions, a dance of need and want that neither could resist.

Bucky’s hand found the zipper of her skirt, his movements deliberate and sure. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide it down her legs. The cool air kissed her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pulled her closer, his hand moving to the hem of her shirt, lifting it to expose her stomach. His thumb traced the delicate line of her belly button, sending a thrill through her.

He paused, his hand hovering just above the fabric, waiting for her permission. She nodded, her breath hitching in her throat. He pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in just her bra. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but she trusted him, knew that he would never hurt her. He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he placed a gentle kiss just above the lace.

Their hearts pounded in sync as they continued to explore, each touch a new discovery, each kiss a silent confession of their feelings.

The night was theirs, a stolen moment in time where they could be free of their pasts and the weight of their futures. For now, there was only the here and now, and the unspoken promise of what was to come.

The couch was not a bed, but it was where they found themselves, tangled in the fabric of their desires. He took his time, his hands worshiping her body as if it were the first time he’d ever felt skin so soft, so alive. She responded with equal fervor, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer.

Their movements grew more urgent, the tension coiling tight within them, demanding release. With a groan, Bucky lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms tight around his neck. He carried her down the hallway, her heart racing as she felt the cold floorboards under her bare feet. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single candle, casting flickering shadows across the walls. He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.

Their kisses grew deeper as Bucky unhooked her bra, his gaze dropping to the swell of her breasts.

He kissed the delicate skin, tracing the lines of her collarbone with his tongue before taking a nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, a gasp escaping her as he teased her with his teeth. His hands roamed her body, memorizing every curve, every inch of her softness. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that resonated through her very core.

Her own hands were not idle, her fingertips exploring the planes of his chest, the ripples of his abs, and the firm muscle beneath. She felt the metal of his prosthetic against her skin and paused for a moment, her eyes searching his for explanation, soon after she realized she didn’t care right now. He took her hand, kissing her palm, before placing it back, his gaze never leaving hers. He was hers, all of him, the good and the broken.

With trembling fingers, she unbuckled his belt, the clank of the metal echoing through the room. He helped her, his eyes filled with a fierce longing that matched her own. They shed their remaining clothes, the fabric pooling around them on the floor. His skin was hot against hers, the scars a map of battles fought and lives saved. She kissed each one, her lips a silent promise to cherish every part of him.

Their bodies aligned once more, and she could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, against her thigh. He hovered above her, his breathing ragged, his eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. She offered none, her eyes filled with a fierce love that was as unyielding as he was. With a whispered, “Darling,” he circled his thumb over her clit.

Her hips bucked at the contact, her body begging for more. He complied, his touch growing firmer, more insistent. She was so wet, so ready, and he reveled in the sweet sounds of pleasure she made, the way her breath hitched and her body quivered under his touch. He slid two fingers inside her, the warmth of her welcoming him home. She was tight, a perfect fit for him, and he knew he was lost, irrevocably, to the feel of her, the taste of her, the way she made him feel alive again.

Her hands roamed his body, tracing the scars that crisscrossed his chest and abdomen. They were a testament to his past, but she didn’t see them as marks of weakness; she saw them as badges of honor, proof of his strength and resilience. Her fingertips danced over the smooth metal of his arm, and she marveled at the way it felt under her touch. He was a man of contrasts, of steel and velvet, and she wanted all of him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Kitten,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and ragged. “I want to taste every inch of you, make you scream my name until you lose your voice.”

Her cheeks flushed at his dirty talk, but it only served to stoke the fire burning within her. He knew exactly what to say to make her blush, to make her feel wanted. His words painted a picture of carnality that had her heart racing and her body aching for more. She felt his hardness pressing against her thigh, and she knew she wanted the same.

“Bucky, please,” she whimpered, her voice thick with need.

With a smirk that was both predatory and tender, he whispered, “You’re dripping for me, doll. Does the thought of my cock filling you up turn you on?” His words were like a dark promise, a seductive taunt that had her biting her bottom lip. She nodded, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she felt a gush between her legs.

“Good girl,” he praised, his thumb flicking over her clit in response to her desperate plea. His cock was heavy and thick, a testament to his desire for her. He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss that made her toes curl. He could feel her hips rocking against his hand, her body begging for release.

As their kisses grew more fevered, Bucky slid his fingers from her pussy, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, tasting her sweetness, watching the way her eyes widened at the erotic act. A soft moan escaped her lips, and he knew she was on the edge. He lowered his head, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and down to her chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, while his hand continued to work her clit. The sight of her, writhing beneath him, was almost too much to bear.

With a groan, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock poised at her entrance. He paused, his gaze locking onto hers. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice gruff with need. She nodded, her eyes dark with desire.

Slowly, he pushed into her, inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of pain. She was tight, a taut heat, like a fist gripping him, but she was slick and welcoming, her body yielding to his. He felt her walls stretch around him, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. He’d been with other women before, but none had ever felt like this, like he was coming home after a long and brutal war.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, darling,” he muttered, his jaw clenched with the effort to go slow. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in short gasps as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. She nodded, her nails digging into his back. “Good, good girl, let me in,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl of pleasure.

The moment he was fully seated within her, he stilled, savoring the feeling of being connected to her in this most intimate way. He knew he could lose himself in her, drown in the warmth of her body, the sweetness of her kisses, and he never wanted it to end. He watched her face, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth parted in a silent plea for more. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin as he began to move.

Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, her hips rising to meet every thrust. The bed protested, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of their hearts. Bucky’s hand moved from her hair to her throat, his thumb tracing the pulse that hammered there. He could feel her tension building, her body coiling tight as a spring.

“Look at me, Kitten,” he ordered, his voice a rough whisper. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto his. He could see the passion, the love, the trust in their depths, and it was more beautiful than any starlit sky he’d ever seen. The intensity of their connection was almost too much to bear as he began to move in earnest, his strokes deep and powerful. “Such a good girl for me, so good..”

Her eyes never left his as she whispered “Daddy…”, her voice a soft prayer that seemed to echo through the room. Her legs tightened around him, urging him closer, deeper, as if she could somehow pull him into her very soul. The feeling of her surrounding him was more intoxicating than any serum, more potent than any battle high.

He groaned at the sound of that word on her lips, his hips driving into her with renewed vigor. It was a name he’d never been called, but it fit him like a glove, a role he’d never known he’d crave. She was his kitten, his doll, his darling, and he was her protector, her daddy.

Their rhythm grew more erratic, their kisses messy and desperate as they chased their release. He could feel her pussy clenching around him, her body tightening like a vice. He knew she was close, could hear the whimpers that fell from her lips as he picked up his pace. His own orgasm was building, a pressure that grew with every thrust.

“Come for me, doll,” he whispered, his voice a mix of grit and desire.

“I want to feel you come around my cock. Let me feel it.”

Her eyes widened, and she threw her head back, her back arching as the orgasm crashed over her like a wave. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the force of it. He watched her, his own pleasure building, his strokes becoming more erratic as he felt her walls convulsing around him.

The sight of her, writhing in ecstasy, was almost too much to handle.

Bucky’s grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. He could feel his own orgasm approaching, the pressure in his balls becoming unbearable. He kissed her again, his tongue delving deep as he felt her muscles tighten around him. His hand moved from her throat to her cheek, holding her face as if he was afraid she’d slip away.

With a final, desperate groan, he pulled out, the head of his cock glistening with her release.

He hovered over her, his eyes never leaving hers as he painted her pussy with streams of cum.

The sight of him, lost in his own release, was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. She felt a tingle race through her, a sense of belonging and satisfaction that she hadn’t known was possible.

They lay there for a moment, their breaths mingling, their bodies slick with sweat. He leaned down, kissing her softly, the taste of herself on his lips. It was an intimate moment, one that she knew she’d never forget. He rolled off her, pulling her close, their limbs still entwined. The bed was a mess of rumpled sheets and discarded clothes, a testament to the passion they’d just shared.

Her cheeks burned with the memory of her slip, the word “Daddy” still hanging in the air between them. She felt vulnerable, exposed, but also a thrill that she’d never experienced before. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Daddy, huh? That was unexpected, Kitten,” he said, his voice filled with affectionate amusement.

He kissed the tip of her nose, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But I like it,” he admitted, his thumb caressing her cheek. “You make me feel like I can be more than just the Winter Soldier. Like maybe, just maybe, I can be something to someone outside of battle too.”

Her heart swelled at his words, the warmth of his affection wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t know how to respond, so instead, she curled closer to him, her head nestling into the crook of his neck. His arms tightened around her, his chest rising and falling with deep, contented breaths.

“I’m sorry, James,” she whispered after a moment, her voice small and uncertain. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even realized it until the words had left her lips. The term had just slipped out, a product of the intense intimacy of the moment, a word that had once brought her comfort in a different context.

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft smile that made her heart flutter, he said, “Don’t be sorry, doll. It’s just us here. No judgment. If it’s what you need, I’ll be your daddy.” He said lightheartedly, His thumb traced lazy circles on her cheek, the tender gesture at odds with the possessive growl in his voice.

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was a comfort she hadn’t realized she craved, and the way he said it, so raw and unfiltered, made her feel cherished. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Thanks.” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

——————————————————————————————————

Hey, guys. Hope you liked this, needed to write some Civil war Bucky!!! 😩

Requests Open!

[winxfairyliveshere]

Ruben Dias x Wife Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Hi! I really got so happy that you guys liked the part 1. I hope you will like this too.English is not my mother language so please excuse me for mistakes. Feedbacks are welcomed, enjoy <3

You climbed the stairs making too much effort. Your first pregnancy was not like this hard. But this time, it's complicated. After you climbed half of the stairs you stopped and took a few big breathes. Ruben was in the downstairs making noises you had no idea where they are coming from. You thought he was picking up his shoes. After you climbed the whole stairs you said to yourself, yes!, because it was really hard.

You waddled to your son's room, door was open. There were teeth brushing noises coming from his bathroom. You watched him while he is brushing. Oh, in your eyes he is the biggest man in the world. He can talk, he can sleep alone and he doesn't like it when you bath him! He is not the baby in the bassinet crying for you, looking for your skin anymore.

But while you are thinking all of this you thought you need to step up because he was being too harsh with his teeth. "Oh, oh buddy calm down, calm down." You took his hand and guided him. "You need to be gentle, remember? We have talked about this before, like this."

Brushing was over, you helped him get off the chair. He ran to the books and started to yell "I want Portuguese, Portuguese!" while bouncing. You started to collecting Portuguese books for him and said "Which one do you want?". He pulled one of the books from your hand and started waving in the air. You walked to the bed with him, he got in first.

"Come on mommy be fast"

"I am coming Teo, look i am huge."

"You are not huge mom you are pregnant." said while giving you a dead ass look.

Did he really pick this book? Really? He had dozens of books but he picked this one? Like he is doing this on purpose. Eu Amo Meu Papai (I love my dad).

Ruben's POV

Ruben scrathed his scalp while she was climbing the stairs. Wanted to help her like he always does, but he thought this time she will shove him. So he continued to clean his shoes but no. He just can't do it. He threw the cloth in his hand, it made cleaners fell. Collected all the shoes and put them in their bags.

"You are not in the football world." said to her. He thought, am i wrong though? Maybe he was, maybe he was not. He couldn't decide. He said in his head "She still sees me like the day we first met; strong and solid. But she is forgetting one thing: my age." That's why he said those sentences. And the word she said about "not seeing her as a soulmate?" Crap. "I was not under of a another man." Total bullshit. She can't.

The best thing he can do right now is fall into coma without dying: sleeping. So he went upstairs, his family's voices became more distinct as he walked towards his room.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, mãe. Your Portuguese is getting better also." He giggled at Teo's words.

"What! My Portuguese is always nice. Look at yours."

"Papai talks better."

"Of course he talks better, he is Portuguese." Something in Ruben's heart always melted when he acknowledge his identity: talking Portuguese, watching Portuguese cartoons or wanting to wear Portugal jersey.

Reader's POV

You ruffled his hair while saying "Of course he talks better, he is Portuguese." This boy always surprises you with his words.

"Teo, i am sorry for what happened. I should not yell." You played with his ears and said "Sorry ears"

"Maybe you should say sorry to papai's ears too." You looked at him. Gosh, he is literally Ruben's twin. You literally gave birth to another Ruben.

"Should i?"

"Can we go -yawns- to the papai's game?" You understood the signals he is giving and started to caress his head and hair. That's the trick for falling asleep. Right that time, door opened and you saw your husband. Ruben slowly entered the room, he was very careful not to make any noise. You made eye contact for a moment but quickly looked away from his eyes. He stretched his long and muscular arm towards your son's head and caressed his cheek. He slowly brought his head closer to Teo's face and left a small kiss on his other cheek. At that moment you smelled him, his presence almost crushed you. His neck was literally displaying itself right in front of your eyes. But remember, you guys had a fight. Fight.

You slowly removed your arm from under Teo's head. You need a help for getting up and here he is. Ruben stretched out his hands to you, you grabbed them. If you were not angry with him, you would have kissed his hands. You stood up with his help, didn't say a word. You tucked Teo in bed, Ruben was walking in front of you. You adjusted the intensity of night lamp and walked out of the room. When you closed the room, you felt his existence behind you. You didn't turn to him. When you realize he is gone, you walked to your room. Ruben was folding his t-shirt, already in night clothes. He doesn't like waking up to the pile of clothes all messy. You entered bathroom, took the toothbrush in one hand and the toothpaste in the other. Thanks to the big bathroom mirror, you could see Ruben. After brushing you applied your lip and face moisturizer and hopped to the another care routine which is Ruben found "unnecessary". Brushing hair! Well Ruben does not find brushing hair unnecessary, he founds brushing hair for 10 mins unnecessary. You deal with hair loss due to pregnancy, whatever you try does not help. So you find yourself brushing your hair for at least 10 mins. Maybe it makes worse, but when you do not brush it, there is always a big pile of hair on your pillow which makes you sad.

Ruben was laying on his back. Eyes fully open. Right to the ceiling. He opened duvet for you and you saw your pregnancy pillow placed like you always did. Was he saying sorry through his acts?

You sat on the bed, leaning your back against the headboard. Looked at him, still glued his eyes to the ceiling.

"Did your ears get hurt too?" you asked. He turned his head towards you. "What?" he said with a little smile.

"I asked a very clear question." After your response, he stopped lying on the bed and sat instead of it.

"Y/n, look at me." he cupped your face. His hands, you loved his hands. Always made you so safe: holding them, his hand on your thigh while driving, wandering around your body, his long fingers around your neck. Best necklace in the world.

Altough you think like that, you looked at him with a attidute and said, "I do not think i said something wrong. I am right about what i said."

"Yes i know but you need to listen to me also. I am so happy and blessed to have you in my life. I know no matter what happens, you are my number one supporter, you will stand with me. I am so happy for our family." caressed your belly, "So much i can not put into words. I said those words because football is changing, i am changing Y/n. Last game, i fucked up. Fucked up everything. Like it was not me playing. Then when i was in the changing room, sitting while i am disgusting with my performance, i saw them." You looked at him with interested eyes. "I saw my opponets. Yes opponets. They are my teammates but that was the first time i saw them as a opponent. With their young and stable bodies, they came and sat in front of me. I saw myself in them, when i was in Benfica, i always waited for some one to drop so i can get in the game. Y/n i am getting old."

"You are not getting old! You are just 32."

"That means i am getting old minha vida (my life). " said while caressing your arm.

"Nowadays footballers play until they are 40. You are no where close to 40 Ruben."

"I know but that does not relax me. There are people coming behind me and waiting for me not to play. One game, just one game me playing bad, that's it. That's their chance to shine. And i do not want others shine. Not yet."

You felt insane discomfort in your body. His words were like rain, storm. You could not do anything but stand.

"I really appreciate your support and trust towards me and i am sorry for what i said. You are my everything, my world. Like you are Earth and i am Moon, hovering around you. I am so sorry Y/n, i just feel so much pressure. I should not acted like that with you. And while Teo was there."

All your guard is down right now. You hugged him, felt sorry for him. Left a few pecks around his neck and shoulder. He looked at you with smiling eyes firstly but they changed so quick like he remembered something. He distanced himself.

"What? Am i smelling? I took a shower this morning." You started to sniff yourself.

"No no you are not. I just remembered something. Forbidden words, you said them." You did not understand his point.

"You talked about another man remember?"

You burst out laughing.

"No, stop laughing stop it." He tried to close your mouth but no, you did not stop laughing. You pulled the duvet over yourself, he spooned you with his body.

"As i said before, i am right about my words, i said facts. I was under you not any other man."

"I know amor i know. You are only mine."

Tags: @carmilladias @caraclocekfjrv @hockey-racing-fubol @mahivah @ciaraovnot and who sent me a message anonymous 💞

I think i need to find title for this one :)

[gamarancianne]

Azriel x reader - In Between, part IV

Summary: waking up, you realise Lucien was completely right: the man sleeping beside you is an abuser. But how will you escape him and why does this shadow seem to be belonging with you ?

Warning: angst, lots of angst, mention of SA attempt, fight, mention of blood, kinda fluff if you squint, so much sweet Azzy you could die, but also threatening scary Azzy, nightmares, not proofread sorry, my English of course.

Note: again I wholeheartedly apologise for the late posting. I’m so so so happy to get back !!! Here I met 4 there surely will be a part 5 and maybe a part 6 or an epilogue. But for this one, I’m not really sure I like about how it turned out. Let me know in the comments I love when you have something to say ! Just remember to be nice and polite please ! 🙏🏻 love you all ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Part I, part II, part III

The morning came quickly. Too quick for your liking. The second you opened your eyes, Aaron’s mouth was on you. You tried to push him back but seeing his face you understood that you were in a very bad position : his eyes were full of lust and hunger and they didn’t seem to have anything stopping them.

Panic flooded in your veins and grabbing the sheets to have something covering you, you ran away from your bedroom. He followed you closely, screaming, and yelling that you were such an ungrateful slut, whom he had been too nice to wait for and that if you wanted it or not, he would take you anyway.

Fear had paralysed you and he caught you quickly before pining you roughly to the wall. His hands were on every inch of your skin. It felt disgusting, his mouth leaving saliva behind on the column of your neck, on your collarbone, your chest.

His hands were now dangerously closed to your core, and in a last moment of desperation you kicked him in the balls, pushed him off and ran in your bathroom.

Closing the door, he was already banging against it, screaming like a mad man. He was so strong that the door almost gave in twice. Fear had gripped you and you curled yourself in the corner of your bathtub, crying desperately for a different ending of your life than this.

You didn’t want it to end now : you hadn’t met your mate, your friendship with lucien was on thin ice because of you and you haven’t even apologised. You regretted lots and lots of moments in your possibly missed life : you regretted not being able to see Nyx grow up, to continue your friendship with Feyre and last but not least you regretted not having kissed those beautiful lips that belonged to Azriel… Lucien was so right about you. How could he know you so much when you sign even yourself ? Of course you didn’t want this psycho of male threatening to abuse you, as he exactly said the other day, you still weren’t over Azriel. You still wanted Azriel, you needed him with every bit of your body and soul. They aches for the beautiful male. And now it was too late. The mere thought made you crying even more that you didn’t sense the comforting and cold presence caressing your skin.

Not even minutes later the shoutings suddenly stopped and they transformed into pain, even agony screams.

Big steps were heard behind your door and you didn’t even want to know who they belonged to : you had already accepted your fate. So you closed your eyes and waited for death to come like an old friend. But it never arrived, darkness and emptiness never found you. Strong arms wrapped around your shivering frame with care and attention, and your eyes bursted open when you sensed the familiar feeling of burn scars on your bare skin. Hazel sought for your eye colour with so much more worry than you could ever imagine. His mesmerising and deep eyes went down on your chest and shot up immediately with some light pink crawling under them : the sheet had managed to slide off your shoulder and it didn’t cover you enough anymore. Ashamed you quickly out your hands to cover yourself a bit and draped the fabric better on your skin.

As Azriel walked out of your bathroom, you saw Aaron, hurt and unconscious lying on the floor of your apartment. He was in a bad state : blood coated his bruising face and you caught sight of two teeth or three inches away.

No words came out from Azriel’s mouth as he took off for the House of Winds and when he arrived. Even when Cassian and Rhysand came to him completely confused and panicked at your appearance. But he seemed to throw some orders at Rhys in his mind and definitely sent a warning glare to the long-haired man newt to him.

He brought to a room, a big dark one but still full of light. You were delicately put on a silky enormous mattress and given a fresh glass of water. Still no one spoke a word and you didn’t even register when you started to fall in Morpheus arms.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sweat covered your body and a deep frown adorned your face when Azriel came back in his room to check on you. You were moving and kicking in your sleep letting fearful pleas and whines out of your presses mouth. Azriel ran to you trying to wake you up. He knew better than to let you in the horrible trap that can be your own fears all grouped in nightmares.

Tears stained your cheeks as your body went still and as your worst scenario faded away to leave room to the reality happening before you. Azriel was watching you closely, his hand caressing your still trembling frame and his voice shushing you. The sobs couldn’t stop and you wrapped tightly your arms around his broad shoulders. Azriel never stopped your embrace and whispered :

“I’m here now, everything’s fine. You’re not in danger anymore, you are here with me and everything will be alright”

Rocking back and forth you calmed down a bit before responding.

“I thought.. I thought I was going to- to…

-I know. But nothing will happen now, he will never be able to even lay a finger on you.”

With a shaky and raspy from all the crying, voice, you asked :

“You promise ? You’re sure ?

-I am and I promise.”

A strange tingling behind your ear and behind his as well marked your promise now forever engraved on your skins.

Since it was the middle of the night, you rapidly fell asleep again, in the comfort and security of Azriel’s arms. He tried not to sleep, but ended up doing so with the exhaustion from the panic and fear he had felt deep in his bones for hours today. You probably wouldn’t even realise, but he had been so scared for you when the shadow came to warn him about what was happening to you. He had run and flown the fastest he could to come find you, knocking off some furniture in his trail. He couldn’t possibly imagine another man laying forcefully his hands on you without your consent : no that was not going to happen, never, not when he was still breathing and his heart still beating.

Sound asleep, you were woken up by the sounds of dishes in the kitchen. What had happened last night slams back into you full force : Aaron and his attempt to … no you didn’t want nor need to think about it. You observed your environment, the dark room of Azriel, minimalist like him : a bed, a closet and some armoires but not much more. Except a mirror, a big mirror, standing in front of the enormous bed you were in. Your mind started to wander to the use of the said mirror just in front of a king-size bed costumed to big Illyrian wings, full of silky sheets so sweet at the touch…No no no ! You couldn’t go there stop that ! Your cheeks and neck heat up instantly. Shaking your head to make these obnoxious thoughts go away, you made your way outside the room and into the kitchen. There he was, beauty and charm both standing before you, making you both breakfast you assumed. He stiffened and turned to look at you when he sensed you. His hazel eyes trailed down your body to your thighs not covered by anything and quickly tuned back to continue what he was doing. You hadn’t noticed but you were wearing a big and loose tee shirt that arrived to the middle of your thighs and a pair of boxers that were far from belonging to you. ‘Oh shoot!’ Embarrassment ran through your whole body of the situation : how could you have not seen that you were wearing his clothes ? But wait… how did you even get into his clothes ? Last time you remembered you were… oh cauldron boil you ! Your cheeks and hid behind your hand at some search of reassurance.

“I tried not to look if that’s what you’re wondering about.

-Thanks, I guess. For that and the rescue and everything actually.

-It’s okay really. About that, how are you doing, do you want to maybe talk about it or not, it’s up to you. I- I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into something.

-Don’t worry Azriel, I’m okay, at least I guess I am.”

Silence returned and he placed two plates full of eggs, bacon, pancakes and fruits in them, on the counter, which you were seated to on a stool.

You ate in silence, enjoying a good meal after a whole day being asleep without eating.

“Who was he ? Azriel asked at of nowhere.

-What ?

-Who was he ? And why was he in your apartment ?

-His name is Aaron, I’ve seen him a lot these past few weeks. He slept at mine the night before.

-Like a date ?

-Yes like a date. And no I’m not going to tell you details of our night. But the morning came and just as I woke he was on me and I couldn’t do anything. And by the way, how did you even know I was in danger ?

-One of my shadow stayed with you after babysitting Nyx, despite me trying to get it back, and it came to me to warn me when you were in your bathroom.

-Where is he now ?”

Azriel’s look darkened and he didn’t answer you.

“Az, where is he now ? You repeated your question, articulating each word.

-You don’t want to know. He’s being dealt dont worry if that’s what is your concern.

-Oh..-“

As you were about to continue Cassian, followed quickly by Feyre barged in the kitchen. Feyre was the first hugging you.

“I am so so so sorry you had to live that, and I am so sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

She had tears in her eyes and still hoped that this was all a bad joke, that it never happened to you. Cassian was a close second to swim you in his arms for a big bear hug.

“Don’t worry, with Rhys and Az we’re examining all the possibilities to make the bastard regret what he’s done to you.

-Thanks to you both.

-Yn, are you alright ? Feyre asked.

-Yeah I am, just feeling a bit empty but I am.”

You smiled at he worried face to prove what you were saying.

“Don’t hesitate to ask any of us, if you need anything.

-Yes I promise, but I don’t need anything for now… Actually, do you know where Lucien is ? And if he-…

-Yes he’s aware, and feeling guilty about it but didn’t want to tell me why. He’s in his room here in the House of Wind because he didn’t to be too far from you in case you needed him.”

You silently thanked her and sent a last thankful look to Azriel as you walked away to find your dear friend.

You don’t even know how much time you spent in front of his door not knowing if you really had the guts to open it. As you put your hand on the doorknob, it opened and a sleep deprived red haired man appeared in front of you, shock adorning his features from seeing you. In a second you were in his arms and booths of you were crying so much that you were soaking each other’s shirt.

“I’m sorry”

You said at the same time.

“No Lu, I am really I am. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve understood your point of view and should not have treated you the way that I did. You’ve always been so good to me and all I have done is be such a brat to the bestest friend I’ve ever had. I am so so sorry.

-As I am. You are completely forgiven for what you’ve said, even if I can’t say that it didn’t affect me.

-Yes I completely understand and I promis I will make up to you.

-I really am sorry too. I should have stayed and not yelled at you to tell you what I saw. I am sorry about that. I knew this guy was bad. I knew it !

-Yes, you were completely right. Again I apologise.

-Everything is forgotten now. And fortunately because I missed you braiding my hair.”

Cries transformed in laughs and hugs s and kisses from happiness of having finally found again your platonic soulmate.

You spent all day in Lucien’s room telling him about your babysitting week with Nyx and Azriel, about Aaron and what had happened. You avoided the parts where Azriel and you had slept tangled with each other or where you had made a bargain in the middle of the night, curling against him.

You left the House of Wind in the late afternoon with a pained Azriel, whose touch lingered on you a few seconds when he flew you down. The same shadow wrapped around your wrist and another one around your ankle.

You and Lucien has strolled around Velaris for the evening, you had tested out a little pastry shop near the Rainbow and had joked and laughed on the bridge of the Sidra.

You both walked to his flat, a mutual understanding that you didn’t have the strength to go back to yours tonight. Before opening the door, you looked at the night sky, two stars caught your attention, one brighter than the other, that seemed a bit off tonight. Your hand felt drawn to your new tattoo behind your ear and gasped when your fingers made out the pattern now engraved on your skin : two shining stars that seemed orbiting around each others until they reached the other and became one.

“Lu ?

-mmmh yes ?

-I think he’s my mate.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist:

@mirandasidefics @63angel @leeknows-wife @thehighlordishere @annaaaaa88 @starsinyourseyes @oucereeng @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @lilah-asteria @samuelseoswife

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 14: Model Stirrer

Ah the modeling world, constantly shoving the prettiest, most handsome, most aesthetic people in our faces. But some of those models were not born that way, some had to be made.

In a series of valleys, no longer on any maps, is a series of modeling camps. For the most part, they seem normal: helping with health, modeling techniques, building connections, and all the shebang; but there is a secret program.

The program aims to reject nobody once they get in, but still wants its prospective models to actually try to get better. Thus the mix & match program.

The bottom 10% & top 10% are brought together & merged. For the cream of the crop, they assimilate members of the bottom 10% to improve "minor" things. There are also rumors that nepo babies who got to the top via connections are given total make overs via this program.

But more often than not, the bottom 10% are merged with each other. A mutual fusion.

Here is Yorden:

A part of the bottom 10%, he is was on the fitness model track.

Problem is that he could never put enough muscle on his frame. Many of the teachers disliked his beiber cut as well. Other than that, he performed well and every other measure. Had he had any connections, he could have gotten that make over that the top 10% gets.

Next is Elijah:

Same track as Yorden. Same problem exacerbated by his tall frame. A bit of a social butterfly, and that has made him a target. Some nepo baby wants his height and social skills for themselves.

The day before they were due to get assimilated by other model students, they hatched a plan.

"Will this plan really work," Elijah asked.

"It's either this, or we are someone else's lunch," Yorden responded.

Elijah pursed his lips for a moment, but silently agreed. Elijah found out that he & Yorden was due to get absorbed by Josh. Everyone hated Josh, he was a nepo baby who had the same bad marks as them in the physique areas, and even worse grades elsewhere except in runway & photo poses. Yet, he was on the top 10% in board rankings.

"I can't believe they want us to give ourselves to him to make him halfway good, all because his grandfather is on the board," Yorden said.

"Nah, we would catapult him to the 1%, give yourself some credit," Elijah chimed.

Yorden sniggered, he liked this about Elijah; a joker and is able to see the positive in many things. That position energy brought people towards him like a magnet, but even his connections couldn't save him. This large social network made him stick out like a sore thumb.

"Anyway, this has worked before, if we merge & are good enough, we can shave off getting eaten by Josh-turd, or we can fight him off tomorrow and absorb him instead, but we got to do it together," Yorden said.

Yorden was the ideas & plan guy. Every criticism, he turned into a basis for improvement. He decisiveness & work ethic is what led to him getting targeted.

The duo sneaked into a lab, the same lab where they were to meet their fates tomorrow.

It was a combination of blue, grey, & very dim. There were operating tables with other past students strapped on them in a state of sedation. They are shocked that isn't them right now, but the knowledge of their selection was not for them to know. Elijah's friend network was able to get that info to them.

But what they wanted was in the back of the lab. Three twenty foot cylinders that could pack four guys each. This is how they planned to merge. Each guy would stand in each side cylinder, and the process would merge them into singular new person who would come out the middle cylinder.

There was a problem, they needed a third person on the outside to activate the machine. So much for Yorden's plans. But where Yorden fails, Elijah succeeds.

Had Elijah chosen a more traditional path, he could be fielding acceptance letters from many engineering & computer science programs. That potential never left him.

"Get in one the cylinders, I know how to get around this," Elijah said.

He walks to a nearby computer console and begins typing away.

Yorden begins to walk to the cylinder furthest away from the console.

"How," he asked.

Elijah turns towards Yorden and smiled a big smile. Yorden remembered: Elijah was a tech wiz. He broke into the cafeteria system once and had the gluten free, sugar free sauce dispenser spray anyone who tried to use them.

Yorden smacked his forehead, he forgot about that quality of his soon to be other half. He was soon in the cylinder, within a few moments it closed shut. Josh was a shade of red for a month.

It was cool and surprisingly airy. Made sense, don't want the fusees dead from the lack of oxygen. It was like the rest of the lab and dimly lit. But in the middle was a pitch black circle. It gave off an energy that both drew you in & made you uncomfortable. Yorden quickly shook his head to get out of the trance.

"Hurry up before I get claustrophobic," he yelled.

Elijah was almost done. He had to change the settings, from assimilation to merge. He was tempted to assimilate Yorden, but he rather not just be another Josh and all the other top 10%'ers who devoured others for their personal advancement. A quick fifteen second delay for the activation, and he was ready.

He heard Yorden.

"Just a moment," he yelled. He pressed the activation button.

The fusion cylinder suddenly roared to life after the instructions were sent. This was Elijah's que to quickly get in the cylinder closest to him.

Elijah was soon inside the cylinder after a quick sprint. It closed behind him. Elijah was a little nervous, and that made him a little bouncy, but after exhaling a deep breath he calmed down.

The insides of the cylinders turned bright as the dim lights turned on, and made the insides look like an infinite white room with a pitch black circle in the middle. Yorden reached out and noticed that the infinity was an illusion, he could feel the cylinder walls after reaching out.

A large start up & then suction noise could be heard. A swirl of light could be seen forming inside the cylinders. It was barely noticeable at first, but soon turned in a spinning light show with Elijah & Yorden in the middle of each swirling rainbow light pillar. To get out of the delirium the spinning and random color changing induced, they both looked up at the pitch black hole at the ceiling. They noticed that the color show terminated there. The suction noise ramped up.

Soon they were both floating. They were approaching the black circle, coming closer. Eventually they reached the black circle and expected to bump their heads, but instead they notice they flowed into the circle with no resistance. From their perspective, they entered a pitch black tunnel and were flying through it with their clothes attached. From the outside their bodies were slowly floating up through the circle and were being swallowed by the dark entrance.

Soon they were gone, effectually in the pipes that connected the three cylinders. As they approached the center connection, low light random color shapes began to zoom past them. Eventually they were able to make out each other's shapes. They crashed against each other with a thud, but no pain was felt.

Then they began to move downwards in an accelerated rate & began to spin.

"This is it, it was nice knowing you," Elijah said.

"We are about to get to know a lot more about each other, everything in fact," Yorden piped.

Elijah closed his eyes, no turning back.

With what little space they had between each other, they nodded towards each other.

Their bodies glowed. Elijah red, Yorden blue. Their bodies of light swirled around each other and then mixed into one purple light.

The light that carried their merged being approached a tunnel of light. It entered the center cylinder and landed with a light thud.

The central cylinder suddenly let out a lot of steam & began to shake. The system was taking the different aspects of Elijah & Yorden and sending the result to this humanoid being of purple light.

It began to stand up. And began to groan as it did.

It gained Yorden's skin tone.

It began to breathe heavily.

It started off with Yorden's frame, but soon it doubled in muscle & grew taller. Shoulders, arms, legs, neck, & chest popped with new muscle.

It had Elijah's abs, but soon his his abdominals grew in size. It's skin restricted & squeezed giving it more defined obliques.

Both of the fusees were not well endowed, but together their family jewels and rods combined on the being to be longer and girther.

It's butt double in sized like blowing two balloons.

It kept Yorden's facial features as a base and then began to morph. It had Elijah's dark hair, jawline, nose, & eyebrows. It kept Yorden's eyes only a little bigger, and kept his ears & chin. The mouth was mix.

After a few more pops and gradual changes in other areas, the merger was done. The being stood fully up.

The purple light faded away & the central cylinder opened up. It stopped shaking and steam flowed out of the bottom of the cylinder.

It walked out and as it did, it thought of its new name.

"Zachary, I am Zachary," he exclaimed.

He looked down and noticed he was wearing a combination of his fusee's clothing. He had airpods in his ear, but messing around with them revealed that they were interfaced with the lab's security systems.

The Elijah part of him remembered the layout from the maps given to him via his social network, and bucked it to the nearest bathroom. He lifted up his shirt to check out the new him:

He was overjoyed.

And the gambit worked. The timeline shifted so that Zachary was never up for assimilation.

Here he is the morning before graduation:

He'll continue to model, but maybe he will pursue that tech potential that Elijah gave up.

[floweringlino]

Macarons and kisses | L.F

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 ; in which wherever she goes, he goes and the other way around.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; pastry chef!Felix x Pastrychef!fem!reader

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ; fluff, tinie tiny bit angst, mentions of food, bullying by boss, crying, mention of alcohol, slightly suggestive near the end.

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ; 2.3k

The gods menu masterlist

✎ ❀

“Y/N, how is the mise en place for tonight looking?” Her friend questioned her.

“Don’t you worry about me, Lix. Worry about that Gumbo thats burning on the stove.

He hurried away to continue his family meal for the rest of their colleagues, Stirring the stew.

Three years of culinary school, two years of training with the best pastry chefs that were around the world. Paris, Copenhagen and Brussels were the places she had trained and all of them took a lot from her. It was hard but it made her who she was and it got her to where she was today.

She knew what she was doing, maybe she was rhetorical best around. The only person that could challenge her in her ability's was Felix. The two of them had gone through a lot in the past, from starting school together to the job they were today. Y/n had followed Felix to the two star michelin restaurant they worked at the present day.

She liked her colleagues. Felix and her had made the pastry their own and powered through the short and difficult days. Hyunjin had also become a good friend of hers and that made her rough days there better.

There was only reason why the days were so bad to start with. Her only problem with this team was the chef. Never in her short but eventful carrier, she had even met a man like him. A man so pathetic, so mean and so heartless. He made her days horrible until the point she cried her way home. But that was the job she thought.

Not every experience is supposed to be a good one.

"Corner." She told her colleagues before making her way across the corner. She said a couple of behinds while passing her friends and made her way to the kitchenaid that was whisking the eggwhites.

Very slowly she poured the sugar water while the whisk was doing its thing. As the mixture started taking the texture that she needed a confident smile appeared on het lips.

"Y/L/N, you better not mess up those macarons, I might actually kill you."

And with that the smile fell again.

"Little does he know you never mess up your macarons." Felix bumped her shoulder a little bit to make her smile again.

"I don't do mess ups. Especially not here.”

"Everybody makes mistakes babes." He reminded her.

"Calm down Hannah Montana. I wanna live out this job before he kills me." She looked up at her best friend while still doing her work. So familiar with the recipe she didn't even need to look.

Felix was also already looking at her. It made her giggle so he felt like he accomplished his mission. The look he gave her was one of pure admiration. They both did the same thing but she did it with so much passion.

"Stop looking at me." She blushed and looked away, hoping he hadn't seen it. But someone had.

"Im sorry. Ill stop. Finish those and help me with family meal?" She nodded in response and watched him walk away to the stove where he had a stew cooking for dinner.

After a little while she left her macarons to rest for a little bit as the shiny layer needed to turn matte before pushing them into the oven. Leaving them alone she made her way over to her Friend.

"What can I help you with, Lix?" He turned around from his conversation with Hyunjin and stood next to her over the stew.

"Can you cut the okra, chorizo and the green onion? I want to add it last so that it stays crunchy at the end." She nodded in response and made a station next to Hyunjin. As she did the stuff Felix had asked her to do, Hyunjin poked her in her side to get her attention from her. To keep him annoyed a little bit she waiting with responding until he yelled.

"Yah! I wanna talk to you. Talk to meee! Im bored."

"Whats up Jinnie. How are we feeling?"

"Keep this a secret okay?" She nodded in response as a promise to keep his secret.

"Im kind of thinking of quitting." She was shocked, thinking she was the only one with a problem with Chef.

"And why would you? I respect your decision, obviously. Honestly same. But im confused. I thought you liked it here?"

"I do like it here. But something doesn't feel right. I don't know how to explain it to you."

✎ ❀

It was 12.00 at night when y/n was called into chefs office. Dinner service had just ended and the kitchen staff was done cleaning. Making their was over to the dressing rooms he picked her from the crowd. And the guys could follow the entire conversation through the walls.

"Y/n I called you here because there are some things in your behaviour that are just unacceptable and you need to change some things."

"Im sorry sir, what exactly are you talking about?"

Im talking about the fact that you are here to work. Not flirt with your colleagues." He said it with such a stern look on his fave that she had no idea if he was kidding or not.

"Im sorry?"

"Y/n, im gonna get straight to the point. So far you have disappointed me in your abilities and have shown me nothing that you can be proud of. We, the guys and me feel like you spend more time flirting with Felix than actually doing your job, and today I also saw you with Hyunjin. Leave the boys alone or im going to have to fire you."

"Sir im gonna tell you something and you might not like it, but this company that you try to run? It sucks. You're not gonna have to fire me because I quit affective immediately. You can keep my last paycheque and shove it up a place where the sun doesn't shine. I hope you lose your staff and those stupid stars you worked so hard for."

"Leave my office now."

"Already leaving. And if I were you, I'd start working on the rat problem you have. It would be a shame if someone saw one and made an anonymous complaint with the health department."

She slammed the door closed behind her, rushed her way past her colleagues with her hand in the air as in a motion for them to not touch her and when Felix tried to grab her hand she shook it away. Not wanting anything to do with him at this moment.

It took all of them a moment to realise what just actually happened and as soon as it was processed, Felix stepped into the office, Hyunjin following him closely.

Not a single tear was waisted on that pathetic excuse of a leader on her drive home. She couldn't help but laugh a little bit mixed with the anger she had let out. It had been building up for a while and now that it was all let out she felt sooo much better.

She didn't even worry about her job, she could easily get another one. Another thought crossed her minds but quickly pushed it away.

Sitting down on her couch she let herself sink in and enjoy the weight that had dropped off her shoulders.

Walking to her kitchen she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. After that she changed into her pyjamas and sat back down on the comfortabel couch, not planning to get up again.

What would she do. There were about twelve job offers she could consider but was that really what she wanted. Was this where she wanted to take her talent. Her mind wondered to a new place, her place. She had an investor that would be interested in her doing this so realistically it would work. But what that something she was ready for.

A knock on her door interrupted her thought. She groaned out of frustration not wanting to get off of the couch. She waited 10 seconds before opening her front door.

Standing in front of her in all of his glory was Felix. His now long blond hair was a bit wet from the light rain outside. He only smiled at her, opening his arms for a hug which she gladly accepted.

She found comfort in his arms and it eased her mind. His hand held she back of her neck closer to him and they just stood there for a minute before letting go and coming back inside. Without talking they sat down on the couch. She sat between his legs and halfway layed on his chest.

"What happened after I left?" She questioned, taking his hand in hers and playing with his fingers.

A chuckle left his mouth.

"We quit, Hyunjin and I. We talked about it before but this was the last push we needed."

"Lix! Why did you quit? You kinda need a job." She couldn't help but laugh a little bit at what he said.

"And you should know better. Where you go. I go. I moved to Denmark with you remember?. We'll have to tell our next job that we're a package deal." He winked at her when she looked up at and stared at his eyes.

"Lix, what if we didn't search for a new job?" She questioned him, sitting back up and turning to face him a little bit more. His face read confusion.

"What do you mean, love?"

"What if, we finally called back those investors and opened our own place?" Her eyes held hope. Hoping he would say yes. They had talked about it before, but now it was serious. She ment it this time.

She tried to read his face but there were so many emotions to notice. God, she hoped he would say yes. She didn't really know what else to do. Finally when his mouth turned into a smile he responded.

"Let's do this." He grinned at her and she threw her arms tightly around his neck.

"You sure?" She needed to ask him, maybe he felt like he was pressured.

"I thought about it, and I think we can do this. It may even be the next step for us." He gleamed at the idea now. It would be their place instead of only hers, where he would work. Both of them would be owners.

"Let's look at our old Pinterest boards!" She exclaimed excitedly, dragging her laptop to her lap, laying back against Felix his chest. He pushed her back for a second to stand up. He missed her warmth immediately but if she was gonna drink wine, so was he. Grabbing himself a glass and taking the rest of the full bottle with him he sat back on the back and let her rest against him again.

This time she pulled a blanket across their laps and comfortably sat on the couch, just talking through their ideas.

Pastry's, cookies, pie's, cakes, chocolates

Felix would do the chocolates because Y/N hated temping the mass. Absolutely hated it. She made Felix do it on her final assignment and she finished it with an 8. But it was fine cuz he made her make his Sabayon.

It now was 4 in the morning and Y/N was talking through the paint options, Felix was too distracted to listen to her talking. His eyes watched her lips move and he did hear her voice. But all he could think about was how beautiful she looked. So passionate she glowed with love.

He wanted to kiss her but her back was still resting on his chest. And the fact she was just his best friend. They had finished the wine long ago and he definitely wasn't drunk. He knew what he wanted, had wanted since they first met.

His point finger traced her jawline and cheek and she pressed into his touch, wanting more. His stare at her was intense as he traced his finger across her bottom lip. Against his chest he felt her heart skip a beat. Scared he had gone to far he pulled his hand away but was stopped when it was dragged back.

Fuck it he was gonna do this. His hand pulled her chin in his direction, turning her face his way. When their eyes looked it was pure love they both say, and without thinking he grabbed the back of her neck and her jaw and pressed his lips to her.

She didn't even need to think and eased into the loving kiss. She had wanted this for so long but was scared of what it would do to their friendship.

The kiss was intense but long awaited. In the kiss she turned around so she could sit in his lap the other way around now wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him even closer.

His hands slid to her back, underneath her pyjame. A soft moan from her, made him insert his tongue into her mouth, making the  kiss even deeper than it already was.

"God you're so beautiful." He whispered against her lips and he felt her smile against his.

"I can do this all day." He said again continuing the make-out in the couch. She fully sat on his lap, softly grinding against him, making him groan from the friction of the jeans against him.

"Then do me all day." She grinned and with that he lifted her from the couch, guiding hee to her own bedroom, where the night didn't end till the sun began to rise again

[chimneyz]

y'all wanted to know what happened, here is a sequel to this post:

Falling, that was the last thing he remembered, falling to his death. No, she said he wasn't going to die. Just falling. 

His eyes sluggishly blink open, his vision hazy, the lights around him were too much to bear. A comforting squeeze wraps around his hand.

"E-Ev'n?" Tommy croaks, his vision still adjusting. 

The squeeze becomes tighter, "No, I sent Buck home," a familiar voice soothes, "I promised I would stay with you until he actually ate and got some rest... you honestly don't know how hard he has fallen for you, do you? 

Tommy's body relaxes, he knows that voice. He may not know that voice as well as he would like, but he knows it. That same voice that practically raised the man he loves. That same voice that was the soul mate to one of his oldest friends. That same voice that told him he wasn't going to die. 

"Maddie?" 

Tommy's vision adjusts, the room was painfully bright, machines beeped around him, his body ached from cuts and bruises. Stitches were spread across his skin. His left leg in a cast lifted above the bed, the right arm tucked into another cast. Next to him, Maddie patiently sits in one of those uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs with a cup of what smells like coffee in her hands. 

"You gave us quite the scare there Tommy," Maddie weakly smiled. 

"Won't happen again," Tommy chuckled, God it hurts to chuckle.

"It better not," Maddie placed her hand on his and squeezed lightly "for my brother's sake." 

There was a comforting silence between them. Tommy doesn't remember much after the crash, just that it happened and with some stroke of luck made it out alive in one piece. 

"H-Hey did you by any chance play that message for Evan?"

Maddie shook her head, "No I didn't." 

"You promised tha-"

"No, no, no," Maddie wiggled her finger at him, "I promised in the worst case scenario that he would listen to the recording." 

"You said there will be no worse case scenario." 

"Was I wrong?" Maddie tilted her head. 

Tommy huffed out a laugh ducking his head, "No, I guess you weren't." 

"Tommy, look at me." 

He forced himself to look at her, her brown eyes full of sincerity. 

"Tell him everything you said, all of it."

"But Maddie," Tommy said "What if he doesn't forgive me, what if I fucked it all up beyond repair what if-"

"I am going to stop you right there. You and I both know that you can fix this. Just tell him."

Tommy weakly smiles, maybe she's right, maybe he can fix this. 

"Tommy you're awake!" Evan cheered as he stood in the doorway. My God did he look like a wreck, dark circles formed under his eyes, a stubble on his cheeks, hair messy. It looked like Evan hadn't slept for days. Not that it mattered, to Tommy this was the most gorgeous person that walked on this earth. Evan rushed to Tommy’s side cupping his face. He winced at the touch still in pain from the crash. 

Evan pulled away concern raising his eyebrows, "Oh, s-sorry I didn't mean-"

"No don't be," Tommy reached his unbroken hand to him, "Never be sorry Evan." 

"So it's Evan now huh?" 

Tommy's gaze moved to Maddie, she gave a reassuring nod getting up from her seat heading towards the door. 

"I will leave you two to it," Maddie smiled. 

"Hey Maddie," Tommy said.

She stopped at the door to look at him one last time before leaving. 

"Thank you."

"Of course, now tell him." 

She gave them privacy by closing the door behind her, Tommy and Evan gazed at each other. 

"Tell me what?" Evan smiled.

Tommy patted the bed gesturing for Evan to come close, to hold him. Tommy gazed in his big blues squeezing Evan's hand wondering how he could have ever walked away from this. No more, not again. Evan was his, and he was Evan's, it was how it was meant to be.

[the-thieves-gambit]

That earned a well-deserved eye roll but it was quickly gone with a chuckle as she heard his laugh. Listening, she could see the park before her, and gave occasional little sounds of confirmation to let him know that she was paying attention. "Sounds like you've been skipping leg day at the gym. You should start taking longer walks with Dolly. Might meet some more interesting people than me to bother on your days off." It was a small implanted suggestion that she hoped he would take into consideration.

"I know all you boys have your secrets. I know the CIA's and the Air forces in Nevada and I know you boys have your small subsection as well." Her time in Vegas came to mind and the finger one of the agents, a regular at the club she was dancing at, twitched at the memory of it. Though it had healed well, it still bothered her when the weather was cold and she couldn't fold it completely when making a fist. "If you do you might be partnered up with your Scully. If you are, I will need an invite to the wedding, after all, it was my idea that led you there, so you're welcome future Wally."

At hearing Wally, Dolly nuzzled against Elizabeth's chin wanting to listen in and let out a small ruff at the words he said. With a giggle, she put it on speaker mode so the pup could hear him clearer. "I should be thanking her for the company. And you for letting me watch her. The days seem to be flying by with her around. and she gives me an excuse to finally go exploring around the island like I wanted to." There was something to be said about the way that he was willing to talk about anything else than what she knew would be the biggest thorn in her side while trying to get the office ready for her to leave. So she let herself be distracted by him talking about his day. Letting a groan out at the simple mistakes some people made.

"I'm always preparing, there's a difference. It's like the condom motto, it's better to have one and not need it than to need it and not have it." Cuddling against Dolly she added. "Dolly's different and you know it." Rolling her eyes she added. "Yes, I know they jump, but its better than being kicked by hind legs of a powerful animal or be thrown from one."

Oh, now that was promising. “Well it’s been a while since I’ve been out there, this sounds like the perfect excuse to travel for a bit.” Settling into a kore comfortable position, she sighed. As much as she poked fun at him for being tired, the recent uptake on hikes and walks with Dolly around was tiring her too. “Thanks for that. Can’t believe you were thinking about my case while working on yours.”

Hearing the all-familiar tone of a video call, she shifted around so she was still cuddling Dolly but she had become all too conscious about the fact that she was wearing his sweater. Hoped the fact that she was holding the phone out so Dolly was in front of her would help hide it. Knowing him, he would see it and use it as an excuse to tease her about possibly missing him, which she didn't. She only wore it because it was the coziest thing she had at the moment, he hadn't lied when he talked about how soft it was. It felt like a lot like a hug.

After settling into a position, she let it switch over and it took a moment to adjust seeing how much darker it was on his end. His green eyes shone like twinkling emerald stars, taking her off guard for a second. "The Roosevelt, she only lived there for a very short period of time. If anything she'd be at the Brentwood estate she was found at. I don't know why people can't let that poor woman be. She suffered enough when she was alive." Magnus was an old Hollywood lover and would waste no moment to show her the old movies or tell her what he knew about them. Most of her aliases came from those old movies. The laugh was a small one, it wasn't at him but at the idea of that hallway having a poltergeist. "If that were the case we would all already have one attached to each of us, this planet has been spinning for so long that if everyone became ghosts, by now we would all have one."

It felt like the lighthouse all over again, questions she thought she would be asked or had ever thought about before, that somehow only felt like a Wally thing. Whether it be the agent training or the curiosity he seemed to have, she would indulge for now, he had after all let his dog stay with her. Pondering the question over a moment, she thought about all the times that she thought she saw her dad in places over the years in her travels. When visiting parks that they had visited, mostly in California which he always loved. She remembered Jennifer telling him once that he might be John Muir reincarnated. With a sigh, she replied. "I read once that ghosts are a lot things to people. That sometimes they are a daydream or guilt or anger or even a memory. I think sometimes people wish for someone to be around so much that they can conjure their own ghosts. But," she laughed. "I also come from people who believe in fairies and merpeople and trolls, and ghosts too. So I think it would be silly for me to say that they don't exist in a way. And I guess you obviously do or else we wouldn't be having this conversation, right?"

There was that bit of hair that seemed to always be in his face when he let his hair down. She wanted to reach out and tuck behind his ear as she had before he left but couldn't. "Hey," there was something about not being able to look into his eyes unobstructed that seemed to bother her at the moment. "Sorry, but ," she pointed towards her face as if to mimic the tucking motion. "Can you... I don't know why but it's bugging me." It was then that she realized, as the memory of the last time he was there came back that not only was she sleeping in his hoodie, he had slept in her bed and she was cozying up to his dog while on the phone with him. Something strange stirred in her, but she ignored it chalking it up to just being tired. He'd fall asleep before she did though if she kept him talking. "So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

He grinned even though she couldn't see him he still did it. "I was getting to the hello just needed to catch you off guard first." His laughter was easy going and flowed like a river. "A National Park, not just any old one. Lassen Volcanic National Park. The meadows were freckled with wildflowers and those lakes are so crystal clear. I mean, I know I wasn't there for the sights but it was refreshing to see a familiar sight to home. Water wise anyway." He sighed and shook his head. "Truly unexpected way to start Monday morning with hearing grab your boots we going hiking. My legs are killing me though."

Hearing Liz on the other side of the call made him smile. He knew he'd missed her but it didn't click just how much until he heard her voice and consequently her teasing banter. He rolled his eyes as he chuckled and sighed. "He wishes he was this cool. Actually, we do have a UFO department did you know that? Fun fact of the night. I may just request a transfer. Thank you for the reminder. Alien life expert." Wally couldn't help but laugh at his own lame joke.

Getting the picture of his pup made him smile as he chuckled and talked to Dolly knowing she could hear him. "There's my precious girl." he cooed and saved the picture. "Thank you again for keeping her company. She looks very happy and very well loved." That pause made him open his eyes and frown. "That bad huh?" He wasn't sure if it was the tone of her voice or that pause that gave it away to him but he picked up on something in her voice. "For what its worth im glad you got my furry best friend to at least get a smile out of you." His dog was good at that. "Timezones you say, huh it's the first I'm hearing about it."

"Oh that tells me you have not had a moment to sit. Manoa Falls? It has a pretty name. Tell me about it. What did you like the most? A guard dog? Has she already found her new calling? Is this your way of breaking it to me? I'm glad that she's been having a ball of a week so far. I hope that when people asked if she was yours you said yes." He wouldn't have minded it either. Dolly took to Liz so he knew the dog liked her.

Wally sighed and knew that cop bullies usually tended to set their sights on a new target, the ones that came after them first. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do let me know." Just by the sound of her voice he knew she didn't want to dwell on this so he switched the topic. "Messy for sure. It turned out that the sheriff for the county lost the paperwork so Sunday when I landed had me at the station waiting for seven hours to see one page of a report that someone actually had saved. The rest needed to be requested from the San Diego office. Not only that but they had three suspects that all had alibis but stories didn't align correctly. So, now we have to trace all three of their footsteps. First guy had us at the National Park. The other was the aquarium and the last one which is my least favorite will have us at a strip club talking to some of the employees there. All this because no one thought to pull fingerprints. One deputy touched a bloody cloth with his hands." Wally sighed. "Upside is that they're all cooperating."

"Why are you so sure that Wildfire will hate you? Do you not trust me? If I had a doubt that she'd hurt you I wouldn't even have you consider this. It'll be like when you met Dolly. Wildfire will fall in love with you. Its not hard to do you know?" he rolled his eyes and laughed. "You are always thinking worst case scenarios. A pony? We can put you on ponies but technically Wildfire is a baby. You're scared of a little baby." His laughter wasn't mean spirited just amused. "It is a ranch. Fine we are adding feeding goats to the list. They jump up just FYI."

His sleepy little laughter rung out and nodded against his pillow. "Mhmm. The big old circle isn't there anymore but that's because city didn't let them build it. Said it was too big. But still there." Her laughter made him hum in content as he had forgotten how melodic a sound it was. "It's actually a funny story. The guy you were looking is friends with suspect number two. They just didn't put two and two together until I saw the report."

Wally switched to video as he had missed seeing her face but could use the pretense of seeing Dolly. He smiled sleepily as his eyes were the only thing visible. "They said it was Marilyn Monroe's ghost but I know that's false. She haunts the Roosevelt and we're so far away from that hotel. I think it's a poltergeist, might be, I hear rustling more than I see any figures pop up. I'm not scared," a little lie. "I just don't fuck with them. What if you inadvertently piss them off because you step on their favorite spot on the floor? And then you have one hanging on you and you have no idea how to begin to apologize." Shaking his head his eyes sparkled with amusement as he moved slightly so his long bang would fall to the side inside of on top of his eye. "Do you believe in them?"

[abirddogmoment]

Thinking critically about the wind

[softquietsteadylove]

The arranged marrige au looks very interesting 👀, may i ask for another part. Also i wanted to thank you so much for posting your work, without your work i'll be bored and sad they make my days better, also you write so good, you write Thena and Gil and their relationship so beautifully. 🤍

Thena sighed. There was just no way around this. She wished it hadn't come to this, but she didn't have another choice. With great reluctance, she cracked the door to the dressing room open. "Gil?"

Even with only one eye to peek at him, she could see him sitting on a chaise just outside her door. He was being reflected in the multiple mirrors lining the walls of the enclosed fitting area. She couldn't see his screen but she could tell he was doing something work related.

She cleared her throat and swallowed her pride, trying a little louder, "Gil!"

He blinked, immediately slipping his phone in his inside pocket. He put on the perfect smile as he looked up at her. "How's it feel, sweetheart?"

It was the finest material she'd ever put on her body, it felt like a dream. That wasn't the problem. "Gil, I can't wear this."

He looked appalled, basically pouting. "Why not?"

Thena rolled her eyes, opening the door just a little more. The dress was beautiful, and it fit her well. But that wasn't the point! "When I said I needed some things to wear, I meant something casual, for running errands, or seeing some friends."

"So?" he stood, grinning and oblivious. "This looks perfect on you!"

Thena huffed, pulling the door open completely and crossing her arms at him. "This dress is for formal events, and I think it costs more than a year of my old rent."

She could just tell he wanted to comment on the fact that she didn't have to worry about rent anymore, now did she? But he held his tongue in a rare moment of restraint. "Thena-"

"Gil," she relented. She knew he meant well--she meant for it to be a sweet gesture, and the fact that he was here instead of just sending a bodyguard with his wallet was testament enough that he was trying to sweet about it. "It's too much. I can't wear this."

He was still borderline pouting, holding her modest white peacoat under his arm with his hands in his pockets. "I got you other stuff like this and you didn't say anything."

She squirmed on the spot. "Well, I don't wear any of those things either."

Gil's jaw dropped.

She attempted to reason with him again, taking his hands in hers so he could really hear her (which he did better through the sensation of touch, for whatever reason). "Gil, I know it's just part of your lifestyle. But you've seen the clothes I brought with me--what I wear at home. I need...that. I need some normal clothes. I was just going to go myself when-"

"No." He was firm about that. He was very firm, actually; under no circumstances was she to go wandering around alone. Her first instinct was to act defensive about his need to keep an eye on her. But she couldn't act childish; his work was dangerous, and there was a reason he'd hired a car for them, had tinted windows, and never left her side this entire afternoon.

She gave his hands a squeeze, "please, Gil?"

He really did have a soft heart, and he wore it on his sleeve, completely out in the open. How did anyone take him seriously as a gangster when he was clearly just a big, soft teddy bear walking around in a pinstripe suit.

"Okay, sweetheart," he conceded to her, as he always did. He raised her hands to his lips. "Whatever you need--I promised that. You get changed and we'll find some things that suit your tastes."

"Sir, Madam, do you need any--oh!"

Thena drew her shoulders up. She had no reason to feel flustered, or embarrassed. Gil had thrown the doors open and asked that his 'wife' be assisted by their best and brightest. That was probably more embarrassing than them being seen by the staff holding hands in her changing room.

There was no need for her to blush.

"It's all right," Gil chuckled, letting her close the door to get changed again. She heard his shoes on the fancy marble floors as he walked back out into the store. "Everything's great, but I think we're going to try some other places."

"Very good, sir."

This was the most posh place she had ever come into. She did tell Gil she usually shopped off the rack sales for generic corporate casual clothes. If she weren't a mobster's wife, maybe she would even peruse the shops or malls like a normal person.

But she got changed and hung up the gown that was so expensive she was afraid to touch it. It was beautiful, and she had to admit that it had fit her like it was made for her. Gil had seen it on display and insisted she try it on.

He was right, it had been perfect for her, but that didn't make a good enough reason to buy a dress like that.

She exited the room, holding her purse and going to find Gil. This time last year, she never would have come into a store like this. She would sooner assume she would be laughed out of the shop all together.

"Yeah, someone will pick it up later."

"Gil?"

"Hey, princess," he turned, raising her hand and kissing it again. He released her coat and held it out for her to put on. "Ready to go?"

"I suppose so," she murmured, looking at the staff all waving goodbye to them. Maybe all fancy shops were like this, but she had a bad feeling about it. "What was that about?"

"Oh, I just told them that we'll definitely come again some time, we're just looking for a different vibe today."

He was lying. But Thena let him hold her hand as they exited the name brand store, massive and towering and shiny enough to reflect a blinding amount of sun this time of day. It was nice out, though. It was a large part of the reason she had proposed going shopping for herself.

And from the moment she mentioned it, everyone who worked with or for Gilgamesh in any way had panicked. Every time she wanted anything or wanted to go anywhere, it was a unanimous sentiment; the boss's wife could want for nothing. Either they had to handle it, or Gilgamesh would.

"You okay, Thena?"

She blinked, coming out of her thoughts. "Hm?"

Gil sighed; he almost looked contrite. "I know this probably isn't the kind of day out you're used to. But...I wish I didn't have to go this far. But if anything happened to you-"

A big, soft teddy bear, who liked to pretend he was all grizzly and growl-y. When, in actuality, he had the softest heart around. She slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow. "I know you're just trying to protect me, Gil. It's nice."

He wasn't entirely convinced. But they kept walking, taking their time moving away from the luxury branded buildings towards a more regular collection of shops. "I'll try to make arrangements so you can go out on your own--with security, obviously."

"Obviously," she humored him. She was walking arm and arm with her husband, but more than that, she had to admit it was nice to talk with someone like a friend.

"What else?"

"What?" she blinked, alarmed by the grave change in his tone.

"What else do you want to do?" he asked more gently, moving them off to the side. "I don't want to hold you back, Thena. If you want to explore this part of the city, see more of downtown, call up any old friends--anything."

She didn't have much in the way of 'old friends'. Dealing with her father was such a dominating and isolating aspect of her life. She was quite sure none of her old coworkers would even notice her absence. Even if that weren't the case, she wasn't exactly yearning to explore weekend markets or clubs, either.

"Unless it's an old flame," Gil added hastily, holding up his finger with a heavy gold ring on it. "Then maybe, but you have to say it's just as friends, because you're married now."

Oh, she certainly had no such thing. But she grinned at him, as he often did with her. "Oh, well, I didn't think my husband was the jealous type. What if I tell him we're married in name only? What if he offers to whisk me away from this life?"

She was laughing, but Gil had that look on his face whenever he was watching sports and the team he owned was losing. It wasn't murderous, but it was decidedly pissed off.

"He can offer." Maybe she had taken this joke too far. But Gil moved her hand so he could hold it again, locking their fingers together. "But I'm gonna introduce myself as your husband, so he knows what he's dealing with."

Even in this fictional, joke world, that would paint an intimidating picture. She leaned against him faintly--to calm his temper, she told herself. "Wasn't it part of my contract that I not be in any relationship?"

Gil looked away, pretending he was examining his suit. He could get somewhat sheepish from time to time, which she had to admit was quite adorable. "Our contract--and that doesn't mean you don't have some ex-boyfriend or something pining for you at this very moment."

She definitely had no such thing. And even if she did, it would be far from her mind as she leaned against her husband, their arms sealed together, his massive bicep against her slim one. She looked down at the strap of her purse, fiddling with its latch. "Well, I don't."

"Good."

"Good."

[mars-ipan]

experiencing any level of joint pain for longer than a day or two has only reinforced my belief that ppl with chronic pain are actually the strongest motherfuckers on the goddamn planet

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[hoshigray]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.