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aceyalonso · 7 months ago

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mark me yours - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing : oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary : biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), sub!oscar, creampie, biting, marking kink, hickies, oral (m!receiving), edging, handjob, praise kink,degrading kink, name calling, begging, humiliation kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, slight dacryphilia, use of "good boy"

word count : 3.0k

a/n : i have a thing for submissive men i fear (this is so self indulgent)

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n and Oscar were playfighting on the living room floor, laughing and giggling as they tumbled around. Suddenly, Y/n leaned in and planted a small, innocent bite on Oscar's neck. However, she had unknowingly found a sensitive spot, causing him to let out a sharp gasp.

Startled by his reaction, Y/n pulled back, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Oscar, still reeling from the unexpected sensation, couldn't help but let out a soft moan. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed to say, his voice slightly strained. "It just felt really intense for a moment there."

Y/n bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Really? Well, maybe we should explore that a little more," she suggested, leaning in once again.

She grinned, enjoying the effect she was having on Oscar. She continued to suck and nibble on his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot with each bite. Oscar's breathing grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a whimper as she bit down harder.

"Jesus fuck, are you a vampire or something?" he gasped, trying to mask the pleasure he was feeling. His body trembled slightly, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Y/n chuckled, her hot breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Or maybe you're just sensitive."

She continued her assault on his neck, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. Each time she found that sensitive spot, Oscar couldn't help but moan, his body responding to her touch in ways he hadn't expected.

Y/n's fingers deftly worked at the hem of Oscar's hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. She tossed it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.

"Mmm, look at you," she purred, her hands trailing down his chest. "So strong and sexy."

Oscar shivered at her touch, his muscles tensing as her fingers explored his body. He couldn't believe how turned on he was getting from something so simple.

Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "I wonder what other sensitive spots I can find on you," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

Her hands continued their exploration, moving lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his jeans. With a swift motion, she unbuttoned them and slid her hand inside, palming his growing erection through his boxers.

Y/n guided Oscar to the couch, her hands firmly grasping his hips. Once he was seated, she knelt down in front of him, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. Slowly, she pulled them down, revealing his hard, throbbing member.

"Oh, looks like someone's excited," she teased, her eyes locked onto his manhood. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, giving it a few gentle strokes.

Oscar let out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch cushions. He couldn't believe how good her touch felt, and he was already aching for more.

Y/n leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. She swirled her tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Then, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft as she began to bob her head up and down.

Oscar's moans and whines grew louder as Y/n's skilled mouth worked on his throbbing member. She pulled away for a moment, leaving him panting and desperate for more.

"Look at you, so needy and desperate," she taunted, her hand continuing to stroke his shaft. "You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you?"

Oscar couldn't even form a coherent response, his mind clouded with lust and desire. He could only nod and whimper, his hips bucking into her hand as she continued to tease him.

Y/n smirked, enjoying the power she held over him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Beg for me to take you back into my mouth."

Oscar's heart raced at her words, his body trembling with anticipation. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need you. I need your mouth on me."

Y/n's hand slowed to a torturous pace, her fingers barely grazing Oscar's sensitive skin. She could feel him squirming beneath her touch, his desperation growing with each passing second.

"Please, Y/n," he begged, his voice cracking with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you so badly."

She chuckled, her breath hot against his skin. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that."

Oscar's hips bucked upwards, seeking more friction. "Please, I'm begging you. Take me into your mouth again. I need to feel your lips around me. I'll do anything, just please don't stop."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at his desperate pleas. She loved seeing him so worked up, so completely at her mercy. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of his cock.

"Since you asked so nicely," she purred, before taking him back into her mouth, her lips sealing around his shaft as she began to bob her head once more.

As Y/n's lips and tongue worked their magic, Oscar couldn't hold back the loud, slutty moans that escaped his lips. The sound of his own voice, so desperate and needy, only served to heighten his arousal.

Y/n smiled against his cock, feeling it twitch in response to his moans. She planted soft kisses along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, her lips trailing up and down its length.

Oscar covered his face with his hands, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum. Oh god, you're gonna make me cum."

Y/n picked up the pace, her mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the brink. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his body tensing as he prepared for his release.

Oscar's whines and moans grew louder and more desperate as Y/n's mouth and hand worked tirelessly on his throbbing cock. His body trembled with each stroke of her tongue, his hips bucking upwards as he sought more friction.

"Oh god, Y/n," he panted, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close, I can feel it."

Y/n could sense his impending orgasm, and she doubled her efforts, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. She could feel his cock pulsing against her tongue, his body tensing as he neared his climax.

As Oscar's orgasm hit, Y/n felt his cock pulse and twitch in her mouth. She continued to suck and stroke him through his climax, her cheeks hollowing as she worked to milk every last drop of his cum.

When he finally finished, she pulled back, his spent member slipping from her lips. She held his gaze as she opened her mouth, revealing the thick, creamy load she had collected.

Slowly, she straddled his thighs, leaning in to press her lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. As their tongues met, she allowed some of his cum to transfer into his mouth, forcing him to taste himself.

Oscar moaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip her hips. He could taste his own essence on her tongue, the flavor both strange and arousing. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but all he could focus on was the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

As their tongues continued to dance, Oscar's hands shook as he gripped Y/n's waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressing against his, and he craved more.

"Take your clothes off," he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you, all of you."

Y/n smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She sat back, slowly peeling off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts, clad in a lacy black bra. Oscar's eyes widened, his mouth watering at the sight.

She unhooked her bra, letting it fall away to expose her bare chest. Her nipples were hard and erect, begging for attention. Oscar reached up, his fingers grazing her sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.

Y/n then stood up, shimmying out of her jeans and panties in one fluid motion. She kicked them aside, leaving her completely naked before him. Oscar drank in the sight of her, his cock already beginning to stir once more.

Y/n straddled Oscar's thighs once more, her naked body pressing against his. She captured his lips in a searing kiss, her hands roaming over his chest and abs.

"You're such a good boy," she purred between kisses, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "So obedient and eager to please."

She nipped at his bottom lip, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "But you're also such a dirty slut, aren't you? Begging for my touch, craving my attention like a desperate whore."

Oscar moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upwards to meet her. He couldn't deny the truth in her words; he was completely under her spell, willing to do anything for her touch.

Y/n's hand trailed down his stomach, her fingers wrapping around his hardening cock. She stroked him slowly, teasingly, her thumb swirling around the tip.

Y/n's hand moved in slow, torturous strokes along Oscar's shaft, her grip firm but not too tight. She could feel him throbbing in her palm, his body trembling with each movement of her hand.

"Shh, it's okay," she cooed, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're doing so well, being such a good boy for me."

Oscar whimpered, his hips bucking upwards in search of more friction. He wanted to beg her for more, to plead with her to let him cum, but he knew better than to disobey her.

"If you're patient and keep being a good boy," she promised, her voice low and seductive, "I'll let you cum soon. Just keep trusting me, and I'll give you everything you need."

She continued her slow, agonizing handjob, her thumb teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Oscar's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with each labored breath. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm hovering just out of reach.

Y/n's hand remained steady, maintaining the slow, torturous pace that was driving Oscar wild with need. As she watched him squirm beneath her touch, she noticed the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

"Aww, look at you," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are those tears I see? Good boys don't cry, you know."

Oscar bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. He knew she was right, and he didn't want to disappoint her. But the pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming, that he could barely think straight.

"That's it, be a good boy," she encouraged, her hand never faltering in its rhythm. "Keep fighting those tears, and I might just reward you for your efforts."

Oscar nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on controlling his emotions. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure inside him reaching a fever pitch. He just needed to hold on a little longer, to prove to her that he was worthy of her praise.

As Oscar's moans grew louder and more desperate, Y/n could sense his impending orgasm. She increased the speed of her strokes, her hand flying over his shaft in a blur of motion.

Just as he was about to reach his peak, she abruptly released his cock, her hand pulling away entirely. Oscar's eyes snapped open, his mouth falling agape in shock and disbelief.

"No!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "No, please don't stop. I was so close, please..."

He reached for her hand, trying to guide it back to his aching member, but she swatted his hand away. She smirked down at him, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

Y/n's eyes locked with Oscar's as she grasped his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Slowly, teasingly, she lowered herself onto him, her wet heat enveloping his throbbing member inch by delicious inch.

Oscar gasped at the sensation, his hands flying to her hips as he fought the urge to thrust upwards. She felt incredible, her walls hugging his cock like a velvet glove.

Once she was fully seated, Y/n paused, savoring the feeling of being so perfectly filled. She rolled her hips, grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"Mmm, you feel so good inside me," she purred, her nails digging into his chest. "I could stay like this forever, just feeling you stretch me open."

Oscar moaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. He couldn't believe the torture she was putting him through, the way she was teasing him with her body. He wanted to pound into her, to claim her as his own, but he knew better than to disobey her commands.

Y/n began to ride him in earnest, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She leaned forward, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck as she left a trail of bites and hickies in her wake.

Oscar groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions as he surrendered to the pleasure. Each bite sent a jolt of electricity through his body, heightening his senses and making every thrust feel even more intense.

Y/n's nails raked down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, could sense his impending release. But she wasn't ready for it to end yet.

With a wicked grin, she climbed off of him, leaving him empty and aching. She turned around, presenting her ass to him as she bent over the arm of the couch.

"Come and get it," she challenged, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Show me how much you want me."

Oscar's eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight before him. Y/n's perfect ass was on display, her pussy glistening with their combined juices. Without hesitation, he moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her once more, groaning at the exquisite feeling of her tight heat enveloping him. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with abandon as he chased his release.

Y/n cried out, her fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly as she pushed back against him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with their moans and grunts of pleasure.

"Yes, just like that," she panted, her voice strained with ecstasy. "Fuck me harder, make me yours."

Oscar obliged, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. But he held back, determined to make her cum first.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more urgent as Oscar continued to pound into her. She could feel her own orgasm approaching, her body tensing as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Please, let me cum inside you," Oscar begged, his voice raw with desperation. "I've been such a good boy, I promise. I just need to feel you, all of you."

Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. She could feel Oscar's cock throbbing inside her, his movements becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold back his own release.

"Cum with me," she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."

As their orgasms crashed over them, Oscar sank his teeth into Y/n's neck, muffling his own moans of pleasure. The sensation of his teeth breaking her skin sent a fresh wave of ecstasy through her body, and she cried out in response.

Their bodies convulsed in unison, their fluids mixing as they rode out the intense waves of their shared climax. Oscar's hips continued to thrust, drawing out their pleasure for as long as possible.

Finally, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies entwined and slick with sweat. Oscar's teeth released her neck, and he nuzzled into her hair, his breathing ragged and uneven.

As the aftershocks of their intense orgasms subsided, Oscar began to mutter words of gratitude and appreciation. His voice was hoarse and raw, filled with emotion.

"Holy shit, that was incredible," he breathed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/n's skin. "Thank you so much, you're amazing."

Y/n smiled, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're welcome," she murmured against his mouth. "And you did so well, being such a good boy for me."

She pulled away from the kiss, a playful smirk on her face. "Why did you bite me?" she asked, her fingers gently probing the spot where his teeth had broken her skin.

Oscar looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he confessed. "It was like my body took control, and I needed to do something to keep from screaming."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, if you're going to point out the bite on your neck, you should probably take a look at mine," he teased, tilting his head to the side.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of his neck, covered in a patchwork of bites and hickies. Some were still red and angry, while others had begun to bruise.

"Wow, I really went to town on you, didn't I?" she laughed, her fingers tracing the marks on his skin. "You're lucky you're so cute, or else you'd have some explaining to do."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 2 months ago

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Huge thanks to hattiemagix for commissioning this!

Doey & motherly fem reader

★ When Doey first met the reader, he was immediately wary of her. Her kind nature was unfamiliar and he couldn't tell if it was an act or not, it made him suspicious. Even though he liked it when you were around he tried to keep his distance. Can you really blame him? He’s met a lot of people who’ve pretended to be nice, only for them to end up hurting him.

★ Doey tested the reader's boundaries to see if her kindness was genuine. Slowly challenging her patience. "Let's see how long she can keep this up," he thought, observing her reactions closely. Shurely she would slip and show her true colors.

★ Even though it was a tad annoying, you were still patient with him. You never raised your voice or showed anger, even when he was acting difficult. Whether it was explaining something for the hundredth time or dealing with his defensive attitude, you remained steadfast in your kindness.

★ He started to realize that the reader genuinely cared for his well-being. Something he’s not at all used to. Doey never expected to meet someone, an ex-employee no less, who would try so hard to make him feel safe. He misses having someone to look after him, it's been so long, he almost forgot what it's like to be cared for.

★ After that he quickly got used to you, your presence became a comfort. As the days in the factory slowly passed he grew even closer to you. Soon enough he started seeing you as an adoptive mother. But he decided to keep that to himself, for now at least, he wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

★ If anything were to happen to you, he would be devastated. If you need to leave the Safe Haven, Doey becomes visibly anxious. He begins clinging to you, reluctant to let you go. He asks you to make a promise to stay safe and be careful. The thought of losing you fills him with dread."Promise me you'll be careful, okay? I need to know you'll come back safe”

★ After defeating the Doctor and the Prototype you bring him, and many of the other toys, home with you. Because of course you had to bring Kissy, Poppy and those who called the Safe Haven home out of the factory where they were starving.

★ Doey feels a mix of emotions—relief, uncertainty, and a bit of excitement—as he steps into the reader's home "This is... home?" he asks, looking at the various objects you have hung up and strewn about. “Of course” you declare, looking at him as he turns his head. Doey’s expression unreadable, “that is, If you want it to be.” you quickly add.

★ And of course he stays with you! Where else would he go? He's so attached to you he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. By this point, it was clear as day that he needed you around. The way he beams when you compliment him or how he always lingers by you gave it away.

★ After spending the past 10 years in the abandoned shell of a factory, Doey is very eager to make up for lost time. He's really excited to try something new. You take the opportunity to teach him various domestic skills. His new favorite thing is baking with you!

★ He still has nightmares about the factory. When Doey wakes up from a nightmare he's immediately disoriented and filled with fear, the trauma of the factory still lingering in his mind. His breathing is heavy and a sense of panic is overwhelming him. His panicked cries always wake you up.

★ You’re quick to comfort him, rushing to his side and hugging him close "It was just a bad dream. You're okay, and nothing can hurt you here." your gentle touch helped to ground him, "It's okay, Doey. I'm here. You're safe now." it's working, because now his cries have dissolved into a quieter whimper.

★ To help Doey calm down, the reader reaches for his favorite book, "The Adventures of Word Wizard." She knows how much the story means to him and starts reading aloud, her voice steady and comforting. As she continues, doey feels his eyelids grow heavy.

★ Just before he falls asleep, Doey murmurs softly, "Goodnight, Mom." The reader smiles softly, her heart melting from Doey's words. For the rest of the night, he sleeps soundly, knowing he's safe and cared for.

#poppy playtime x reader #player poppy playtime #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter four #poppy playtime headcanon #poppy playtime fanfic #doey #doey x player #doey x reader #doey the doughman #poppy playtime doey #ppt x player #ppt x reader #ppt doey

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cumironi · 6 months ago

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SILLY LITTLE NIGHTMARES: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

you are having a nightmare about your boyfriend, geto, became a curse user and is a mass murderer, so you spend your day following him around like a puppy.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, murder mentioned.

geto finishes the last bit of paperwork, the soft sound of his pen clicking shut echoing in the living room. he leans back in his chair, stretching out his arms and letting out a content sigh, satisfied to finally have some time to relax. gojo is busy tidying up the room from the mess he just made, adjusting the pillows on the couch and fluffing the throw blankets, occasionally shooting playful glances at geto.

just then, you walk into the room, your eyes still puffy and red from a restless nap. the moment they see you, both of them pause, sensing something is off. tears stream down your cheeks as you try to wipe them away, but they only seem to flow more freely.

geto’s heart drops as he immediately stands up, worry etched on his face. “hey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, taking a step closer to you. he can feel a wave of concern wash over him, instinctively wanting to protect you from whatever is troubling you.

you blink up at him, your voice shaking as you manage to speak. “i… i just had a bad dream,” you say, your words barely above a whisper, the weight of fear still clinging to you.

you walk closer to geto, feeling the weight of your lingering emotions pressing down on you. without a second thought, you straddle him, sitting on his lap as you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. your body shakes with quiet sobs, and the warmth of his presence envelops you like a comforting blanket.

geto’s initial alarm quickly melts away as he sees your vulnerable state. he instantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer until your body is pressed flush against him. a part of him is glad that it was just a dream, but he hates seeing you in such distress.

geto runs his hand gently over your hair, his touch soothing and tender. “ssh, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” he whispers, his voice gentle. gojo’s eyes dart between the two of you, a subtle frown creasing his forehead, as he pauses his tidying to watch the scene unfolding.

gojo crosses his arms, his eyes flickering with a hint of concern, but he remains silent, letting geto take the lead. he leans against the back of the couch, watching the two of you intently.

geto continues to hold you close, his hand caressing your back in slow, circular motions. “do you want to talk about it?” he gently inquires, his voice low and steady. he isn’t particularly fond of hearing about nightmares, but he wouldn't hesitate to listen if it meant offering you some sort of comfort.

you take a deep breath, trying to gather the words through your sobs as you cling to geto. his warmth and steady presence help, but the lingering fear from the dream makes your chest tighten. “it was horrible,” you manage, your voice shaky. “i dreamt that you… you became a curse user… and…” your voice breaks, tears streaming down your cheeks as you press your face into his shoulder.

geto stiffens slightly, his grip on you tightening. despite the calm expression he usually wears, you can feel the tension in his body at your words. he’s quiet for a moment, letting you continue when you’re ready.

“you…” you take another shaky breath, the words harder to say than you expected. “you killed people… so many… and then you left me and satoru behind. you just… disappeared.” fresh tears fall as the vividness of the nightmare overwhelms you again, the image of geto turning away from you playing over and over in your mind.

geto’s heart sinks deeper as he listens to your tremulous voice and imagines the nightmare you endured. his arms unconsciously tighten around you, as if he could shield you from the horrors of the dream world.

he bites down on the inside of his cheek, frustration and helplessness welling up inside of him. he hates the thought of ever causing you such pain, especially by abandoning you and gojo. it's an outcome he could never even fathom.

he lets out a slow breath, trying to maintain his composure as he replies, “i would never do that.” his tone is firm, almost urgent, as if he’s trying to convince you as much as himself.

“i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he murmurs, his hand reaching up to gently stroke your hair.

gojo watches quietly from his spot on the couch, his eyes flickering to geto. he can sense the mix of irritation and helplessness that geto is feeling, both at the idea of being the source of your pain and his inability to ease your distress.

geto’s mind races, trying to find the right words to say. he knows that just saying he wouldn’t do that isn’t enough to erase the emotional scars from the nightmare. “i’m right here,” he repeats, his voice softer now as he presses his lips against the top of your head. “i’m not going to leave you… i promise.”

you continue to cry softly, your breaths shaky as the remnants of the nightmare still cling to you. geto’s words bring some comfort, but the fear lingers, and you can’t stop the tears from falling. he holds you close, feeling the weight of your pain, and his heart aches to see you like this.

he gently pulls your face away from his shoulder, his large hands cupping your wet cheeks with care. his thumbs brush against your skin, wiping away the tears that stream down your face. his dark eyes are filled with concern and love as he gazes into yours. “look at me,” he whispers, his voice steady but tender. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

your lower lip quivers as you meet his gaze, still feeling the sting of the dream. “it felt so real, suguru,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i lost you.”

geto’s heart clenches at your words, the fear and pain in your voice like a dagger stabbing through his chest. he hates the thought of you feeling even a second of uncertainty or doubt.

he keeps his hands on your face, his gaze never waivering from yours, as he replies, “it was just a nightmare, okay? i’ll always be here with you. i swear.” he slowly leans in, gently pressing his lips against your forehead, as if to kiss away your fears and worries.

geto draws back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “i won’t let anything happen to you, and i’m damn sure i won’t ever leave you.” he repeats, his voice low and firm. “i promise.”

he holds your gaze for a moment, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jawline, before looking over to gojo, who’s quietly watching from the side. gojo gives him a small nod, a mix of worry and support in his eyes.

geto’s hands slowly move from your cheeks to the back of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair in a soothing gesture. he holds you closer still, as if he’s trying to shield you from the world and all its horrors.

gojo silently observes the two of you from the couch, his usual smirk replaced with a serious expression. he can see the pain and worry etched on geto’s face, and he can sense the turmoil in your heart. he knows how tightly the two of you are bound together, and it pains him to see you both suffering from a mere dream.

“i won’t ever let that happen, baby, he didn’t even get a chance to think about living us before i smack some sense into his head, do you hear me?” gojo softly asks, hoping his words get through your pretty little head and the amidst cloud of nightmare.

geto shoots gojo a grateful glance, appreciating the reassurance and support. he knows that your mind being eased by both of them helps a lot more than just his word alone.

he focuses his attention on you, his hands still gently cradling your head. he can feel the tension slowly start to ease from your trembling body, and that small sign of improvement gives him some relief. “hey,” he murmurs, shifting to pull you even closer, until your face is buried into his neck. “you’re safe, you’re okay.”

you feel geto’s fingers gently combing through your hair, the repetitive motion soothing your nerves little by little. his arms wrap around you more tightly, his body shielding you from everything, just as you needed in this moment. the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours helps you regain some composure, though the lingering fear still weighs on your mind.

gojo’s voice reaches you, soft but firm, and you lift your head slightly to glance over at him. his words bring a sense of reassurance, his usual playful energy now replaced with sincerity. the thought of him smacking some sense into geto if he ever tried to leave brings a small, albeit shaky, smile to your face. you know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but there's also a seriousness in his tone that makes you feel safe.

“okay..” you manage to whisper, your voice still trembling but less fragile than before. you nod slowly, taking in a deep breath as you try to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the nightmare is fading now, replaced by the warmth of their presence. with each inhale, you feel the fear dissipating, and with each exhale, you focus on the reality that you're here, with them.

“i know it was just a dream,” you murmur, your voice gaining a little more strength. “it’s just… it felt so real.” your fingers clutch the fabric of geto’s shirt, grounding yourself in the moment. “i just can’t stop thinking about it and it makes me upset.”

geto listens to your words quietly, his hand continuing to stroke through your hair, grounding you back to reality. he hates how your mind is still stuck on the nightmare, the fear and anxiety clinging to you like a shadow. he runs his fingers through your hair again, trying to soothe you further. “i know, i know. it’s okay. nightmares can feel so real sometimes.”

he pauses, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “i wish i could take the memories of that dream away from you, but all i can do for now is tell you that it wasn't real. i'm right here, and i'm not going anywhere.”

he tightens his grip on you ever so slightly, his voice soft as he replies, “you’re safe. i’m here. it was just a dream,” he repeats, his words a soothing mantra, as if trying to imprint them onto your heart. he turns his attention to gojo, silently asking him with a look to add some comfort as well.

gojo pushes himself off the couch and walks over to the two of you. he crouches down in front of you, his cerulean eyes meeting your tear-filled eyes gently. his hand reaches out for yours, taking it in a firm yet compassionate grip.

he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice low and comforting as he speaks. “i don’t know what you saw in that nightmare, but suguru’s right. you’re safe and sound right now, in the real world. it was just a product of your imagination, nothing more.”

gojo continues, his voice soothing as he tries to erase the remnants of your nightmare from your mind. “and i know, it’s hard to shake off the fear and anxiety after waking up from a nightmare, but it wasn’t real. it’s okay to feel shaken, but i promise you, nothing in that nightmare is going to come true. geto and i are here with you, always will be, and we’ll do anything to keep you safe, okay?”

you look into gojo’s cerulean eyes as he speaks, his words washing over you like a calming wave. his hand in yours feels warm and steady, grounding you in the present, reminding you that you’re no longer trapped in the nightmare. his voice is soothing, full of reassurance, and it helps ease the tension in your chest.

you take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs and then slowly release it. the trembling in your hands begins to subside as you listen to him, the fear starting to melt away with each word. “okay,” you whisper, your voice soft but more steady than before. you give him a small nod, trusting in both him and geto to keep you safe, knowing they would never let anything happen to you.

gojo gives you a small, comforting smile, squeezing your hand once more before letting go. “that's my girl,” he says softly, his usual playful tone creeping back in, just enough to bring you a sense of normalcy.

you lean back into geto’s embrace, feeling the weight of your fear finally lifting. their presence, their words, their love—it all grounds you in this moment, and you know, deep down, that you’re safe. “thank you,” you murmur again, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for both of them. you close your eyes briefly, taking another deep breath, this one much calmer than before.

geto holds you tightly, his hand still in your hair, and gojo rests a hand on your shoulder, the both of them ensuring you feel surrounded by warmth, love, and protection. “we’ve got you,” geto whispers against your hair, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

once both he and gojo are satisfied that you’re slowly coming down from the nightmare, geto leans back against the couch, pulling you with him until you’re snuggled against his chest. he keeps his arm wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he’s trying to shield you from any remaining shadows of the nightmare.

gojo returns to his spot on the couch, collapsing onto the cushion, but his eyes remain on you, watching intently to make sure you’re truly okay.

geto continues to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and comforting as he looks down at you. he feels the tension in your body slowly dissipating, the fear and anxiety fading away little by little. “try to get some more sleep, okay? you need to rest. one bad dream shouldn’t dictate your whole day.” he says quietly, his voice low.

you shake your head gently, pressing closer to geto, the thought of going back to sleep still unsettling. “i don’t want to sleep,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm. the fear of falling back into another nightmare lingers, making the idea of rest feel impossible.

geto’s hand stills for a moment, and he glances down at you with concern, his brows knitting together. “you’ve been burning out from work, you’re tired,” he says softly, “you need rest.”

but you just shake your head again, clinging to the warmth of his embrace. “i don’t want to go through that again,” you whisper, the vulnerability in your voice evident. “not right now.”

geto's grip on you tightens as he hears the vulnerability in your voice. he understands your fear of reliving the nightmare, but he also knows that avoiding rest will worsen it. he bites his lip, trying to think of what to say to ease your fears.

he looks over to gojo for assistance. gojo, who’s been quietly observing the two of you, sits up a little straighter, his expression becoming serious again. “alright, we’ll stay with you. we’re not going anywhere. you don’t have to go back to sleep, but you can just rest here with us then, okay?”

you nod softly in response, your body beginning to relax just a little more in geto’s arms. the reassurance from both of them is enough to help you feel safe, even if the thought of sleeping still scares you. you hum softly in acknowledgment, closing your eyes for a brief moment as you feel gojo’s presence near.

gojo leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a second, offering comfort through the simple touch. the warmth from his kiss spreads through you, easing the last remnants of fear.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but full of trust. you lean back into geto’s embrace, feeling the strength and safety in his hold, while gojo’s calming presence at your side brings you peace.

geto squeezes you tighter, wrapping his arm around you securely as you lean into him. his chin rests on the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. the sight of gojo pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead makes his heart ache, knowing how scared you were moments ago.

gojo keeps his eyes on you, watching your breath even out little by little, and the anxiety slowly leaving your body. he reaches out to take your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, providing a subtle reassurance.

“we’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and gentle.

after crying your heart out from the nightmare that had shaken you to your core, you spent the rest of the day trailing geto wherever he went, almost as if you couldn’t bear to let him out of your sight. the nightmare, though just a figment of your imagination, had left a heavy weight in your chest, one that only seemed to lighten when you were close to him.

now, you, geto, and gojo are sitting on the couch, the soft hum of the tv in the background as you lean against gojo’s chest. his arm is draped around you lazily, while geto sits at the other end, relaxed but aware of your every movement. the comfort of being sandwiched between the two of them has kept the lingering unease at bay for most of the day.

suddenly, you feel geto shift beside you, and when he begins to stand, your body tenses up. you sit upright quickly, eyes wide with concern as you look at him. “where are you going?” you ask, your voice betraying the anxiety that still lingers from the nightmare.

your voice laced with a quiet urgency, unable to mask the worry that creeps back into your tone. the idea of him leaving your sight, even for just a moment, stirs up the unease from earlier.

geto stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a gentle smile, one that’s meant to reassure you. “just going to the bathroom,” he says softly, his tone calm and understanding. “i’ll be right back, i promise.”

gojo tightens his arm around you slightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “he’s not running off, baby,” gojo teases lightly, though there’s a hint of concern in his voice as he looks down at you. “besides, if he takes too long, i’ll drag him back for you.” despite gojo’s playful tone, your eyes stay on geto, still uneasy. but you nod slowly, watching him as he disappears down the hall.

once geto is in the bathroom and out of earshot, gojo drops the teasing tone and turns his attention fully to you. he studies your face silently for a moment, taking in the unease that still clings to you. he can see the way your eyes follow geto’s every move when he’s around, the anxiety etched onto your features whenever he leaves your sight.

he sighs softly, his hand continuing to rub circles on your back in a calm, comforting motion. “you're still rattled from that nightmare, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

you turn to gojo, shaking your head lightly as if trying to convince both him and yourself. “i’m not,” you murmur, your voice soft but unconvincing. though you rest your head back against his chest, the tension in your body hasn’t fully disappeared. despite your denial, your eyes still flicker toward the bathroom door every few moments, watching, waiting.

gojo can easily tell that you're lying, and he lets out a quiet exhale as he continues to rub circles on your back. “you are,” he counters softly, his voice free from any playful tone, no hint of teasing at all. “we both know you are, and there’s no shame in it.”

he glances at the bathroom door and then back at you. “you’re on edge every time he leaves the room, and you’ve been like this all day.”

gojo pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to address your uneasiness. you keep your head on his chest, avoiding his gaze, clearly still trying to convince yourself that you're okay. but he can feel the tension in your body, the way you're silently clenching and unclenching your fists.

he runs his hand through your hair gently, brushing a strand of it behind your ear. gojo’s lips twitch in a small, knowing smile, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. he can see through your weak attempt at convincing him that you're not still affected by the nightmare.

he wraps his arm around you tighter, pulling you closer against his chest. “you know, getting another nightmare is pretty unlikely. the chances are very low,” he says, trying to alleviate your fears.

you shake your head slightly against gojo’s chest, your voice barely a whisper as you reply, “i still can’t forget about it.” the unease in your tone is unmistakable, and the way your fists clench unconsciously gives away how much the nightmare still lingers in your mind.

despite his comforting presence and logical reassurance, the images from the nightmare are too vivid, too real to easily brush aside. “it’s terrible..” you admit softly, your eyes once again darting toward the bathroom door, waiting for geto to return, as if his presence alone can chase away the remnants of the dream.

gojo looks down at you, a pang of sympathy and concern in his eyes. he sees the way you're still on edge, your fists clenching and unclenching, your eyes darting to the bathroom door. he knows this is more than just a bad dream, it’s a lingering fear that's hard to shake off.

he runs his fingers through your hair gently, trying to soothe you. “i know it’s hard to forget,” he says softly, “but you’e awake now. that nightmare isn’t real. you’re here with me and geto, you’re safe. there he is,” he murmur the moment his eyes caught geto walk out of the bathroom.

geto returns from the bathroom, immediately noticing your tense demeanor and the way you're still glued to gojo’s side. he walks over and takes a seat next to you, a small frown tugging at his lips as he takes in your anxious expression. he reaches out and puts a hand gently on your shoulder. “still rattled?” he asks, his voice soft.

you nod silently, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. the nightmare still feels fresh in your mind, leaving you feeling vulnerable and shaken. geto’s touch brings you a small measure of reassurance, but it’s not enough to fully calm your racing heart.

geto chuckles softly, his expression softening as he watches you shift in gojo’s embrace, your eyes still filled with a lingering unease. "come here," he murmurs, opening his arms wide. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes, but the warmth in his voice makes it clear that his intention is to comfort you.

without hesitation, you move from gojo’s chest and slip into geto’s arms, almost instinctively. he wraps them around you, pulling you close, his hands immediately resuming their familiar, soothing touch. “there you go,” he murmurs into your hair, his breath warm against your skin. his voice is light, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

then, with a small smirk, he adds teasingly, “you really are a crybaby, you know that?” despite the words, there’s nothing but affection in his tone.

you can’t help but let out a small, half-hearted laugh through your lingering nerves, burying your face in his shoulder. “i’m not,” you mumble, the warmth of his embrace finally starting to chip away at the cold fear still gripping your heart.

gojo watches as you move into geto's arms, his expression a mix of amusement and understanding. he sees the way you immediately melt into geto’s touch, the tension slowly slipping away. as you let out a small laugh, he lets out a small scoff, a smile on his face. “yes, you are,” he says, joining in the teasing. “but it’s alright, we have all night to soothe your fragile little heart.”

geto laughs softly at gojo's words, his arms tightening around you momentarily. “he’s right, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft against your hair. “you really are quite sensitive when it comes to nightmares. but don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe and sound all night long.”

his hands continue to run soothingly over your back as he looks over at gojo. “you better watch yourself. you’re just as soft as she is, you know.”

you grumble in response, your face still buried in geto’s shoulder. you can feel his laugh reverberate through his chest, and his hands continue to move gently over your back, soothing and comforting.

“you two are such a jerk,” you murmur, but there’s no real venom in your words. geto just laughs again, pulling you even closer into his embrace. “and you’re a baby,” he teases again, ruffling your hair.

gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “aww, don’t deny it, you're a total baby.” he teasingly pokes your side, making you squirm in protest. geto chuckles, holding on to you firmly. “yeah, that’s right. you’re our little baby. all soft and sensitive, just like a fragile little flower.”

“stop moving too much,” you whine, trying to keep up as geto moves around the house with his usual calm, deliberate pace. it’s been hours of him finding little things to do, whether straightening up, moving a book from one shelf to another, or inspecting something that didn’t need attention at all.

he glances over his shoulder at you, amusement dancing in his eyes as he chuckles. “you’re the one who keeps following me,” he teases, but there’s a knowing warmth behind his words. he’s been doing this on purpose—giving you something to focus on, keeping you busy enough to slowly pull you away from the lingering nightmare.

you can tell what he’s up to, but you don’t mind. in fact, it’s comforting to follow him, even if your legs are starting to get tired. each step behind him feels like a reminder that he’s there, solid and real, and the nightmare is fading further into the background.

he pauses for a moment, turning to face you fully with a smirk. “i’m just making sure you tire yourself out enough to sleep tonight and stop you from all those nightmares you had,” he says lightly, his eyes softening as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

you groan, feeling the exhaustion creeping in as you follow geto once again, watching him head toward the kitchen. “you’re so annoying,” you mutter, though there’s no real bite behind your words. he’s clearly enjoying himself, finding amusement in your persistence.

geto just chuckles again, unfazed, as he steps into the kitchen where gojo is sitting comfortably at the dining table, leisurely munching on a donut. gojo watches the whole scene unfold with an amused grin, his eyes flicking between the two of you. "you really are wasting all your energy following him around like a lost puppy,” gojo comments, his voice teasing but not unkind. he takes another bite of his donut, leaning back in his chair like he’s enjoying a front-row seat to the show.

“maybe if someone would stop walking around, i wouldn’t have to,” you huff, shooting a playful glare at geto as he busies himself with something on the counter. “toruuu, you could help me, you know,” you say, taking a seat beside him, though even as you speak, you know that’s unlikely. he’s perfectly content watching you wear yourself out.

gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches you following geto around like a lost puppy. he knows exactly why geto’s doing this, and he’s thoroughly enjoying the show. “aww, look at you being the devoted little follower,” he teases between bites of his donut. “just keep following him like that and you’ll wear yourself out in no time.”

geto, who’s puttering around in the kitchen, can’t help but chuckle at your comment. he shoots a glance over his shoulder at you, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “and miss this entertaining spectacle? it’s not every day i get to have a cute little puppy trailing behind me, constantly at my beck and call,” he teases back.

he knows that you’re not exactly happy about being tired out, but he’s enjoying the fact that you’re willingly following him around. it’s like a game to him, seeing how long you’ll keep up the tag-along. but he also wants to help you shake off the lingering effects of the nightmare.

gojo lets out a small pout of mock disappointment as you steal his donut, his initial protest quickly giving way to a look of amusement. “how rude,” he says, feigning hurt.

he watches as you happily bite into the stolen treat, a small smile tugging at his lips. “you’re such a little gremlin, you know that?” he teases, knowing full well that he doesn’t mind sharing, especially if it puts a smile on your face. geto watches the whole scene unfold from a distance, a grin on his face as he continues tending to whatever he’s doing in the kitchen.

geto can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest as he watches you banter playfully with gojo, the tension and unease from earlier slowly melting away. he continues his tasks in the kitchen, allowing himself a moment to simply observe the two of you interacting.

after a moment, he speaks up again. “you know, if you’re done eating gojo’s donut, maybe you should come back here. i’m not finished with you yet.” there’s a hint of tease in his voice, even as he keeps his focus on the task before him.

you shake your head playfully, reaching for another donut with a smug grin. “i think i’m good here, actually,” you say, biting into the donut with exaggerated satisfaction. “besides, the nightmare’s already gone, and satoru’s donuts taste so good.”

gojo chuckles, watching you pilfer another donut from the box. “you’re a little thief,” he teases, not bothering to stop you. he doesn’t really mind sharing his food, especially if it means getting to see you look so satisfied and relaxed.

geto scoffs at your response, his eyes narrowed with playful irritation. “don’t think you’re getting off that easily. i’ve got plans for you.” he glances over his shoulder at you, a smirk on his lips. “and besides, i’m not done yet. you still have some energy left to burn.”

you hum contentedly, still munching on the donut in your hand. glancing at the box, then back at gojo, you grin mischievously. “i call shotgun on the oreo,” you announce, pointing toward the donut with a playful smirk, even while taking another bite of the one you’re eating.

gojo rolls his eyes, his expression a mix of playful annoyance and amusement. “you’re really going to finish all my donuts, aren’t you?” he says, knowing full well that resisting your charm is a futile task.

before he can respond further, geto calls out from the kitchen, his voice laced with both warmth and command. “oh, come on. quit flirting with each other and get your ass over here.”

you flash gojo a smug grin, enjoying the way his face twists in mock annoyance. “too bad for you, i called shotgun first,” you say, your voice dripping with playful confidence as you take another indulgent bite of your donut. the satisfaction of winning this little battle with him adds a bit more sweetness to the treat in your hand.

you glance over at geto, who’s been quietly observing the entire exchange. with a heavy, exaggerated sigh, you reluctantly place the donut back on the table. “fine,” you grumble under your breath, acting as though you’ve just made the biggest sacrifice of your life. dragging your feet a little for dramatic effect, you slowly make your way toward geto, still pouting as you walk.

gojo watches as you saunter over to geto, unable to hide the small smile forming on his face. he shakes his head, amused by your exaggerated show of reluctance.

geto, on the other hand, looks far from sympathetic as he watches you approach with a small chuckle, his arms crossed over his chest. “oh, spare me the drama. you’re not the one making a sacrifice here, princess.” he smirks, clearly enjoying your exaggerated expression.

“you’re such a diva,” he teases, rolling his eyes as you approach. he’s clearly enjoying your bratty behavior, but he’s not about to let you get off scot-free. “now, come on. stop moving so slow,” he says, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you closer to him.

he guides you to a spot next to him, a countertop filled with various ingredients laid out in front of you. “since you’re so keen on stealing everyone’s food, maybe you can put your thieving skills to use in the kitchen,” he says with a wry smile, his grip on your arm still gentle but firm.

he releases you and steps back, giving you a moment to take in the array of items on the counter. “now, you’re going to help make some sweets,” he orders, his voice soft but authoritative. “and no complaints or diva moments, understood?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, letting your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world rested on them. your face adopts a lazy, bored expression, and you roll your eyes at geto’s suggestion. “i’m still rattled from the nightmare,” you say with an exaggerated pout, the hint of a lie in your voice. in truth, it’s more about feeling lazy than shaken up. “i’m not allowed to do such a thing while still traumatized,” you admit, eyeing towards the remaining treats with a longing look.

geto lets out a scoff, the sound a mix of fondness and irritation. he knows you too well to be fooled by your act. “oh, please. don’t try to pull a fast one, princess. i know you’re not that rattled. you’re just being a brat.”

he takes a step closer to you, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. his eyes hold a mixture of warmth and challenge. “no more excuses. you’re helping me make sweets, end of story.”

he glances over at the remaining treats, a knowing smirk on his lips. “and don’t even think about going for those donuts again. you’ve had plenty.”

he releases your chin and steps back, gesturing to the array of ingredients on the counter. “now, here’s the plan. pay close attention,” he says, his tone commanding and authoritative. “i’ll guide you through the steps, but don’t even think about slacking off or complaining.”

you narrow your eyes at gojo, who’s blissfully enjoying the very oreo donut you just claimed as your own. his smug smirk only adds fuel to the fire of your annoyance. you cross your arms, shooting him a playful glare that says everything—this is definitely a low blow.

with a dramatically heavy sigh, you lean back slightly, feigning exasperation. “ugh, fine,” you concede, rolling your eyes for added effect. you shoot one last pout in gojo's direction before begrudgingly turning back to the array of ingredients laid out in front of you, secretly hoping you might enjoy the process despite your reluctance.

gojo chuckles, thoroughly enjoying your reaction to his sneaky donut heist. his smirk only gets wider, clearly amused by your grumpy display.

geto watches the exchange, his expression a mix of annoyance and affection. he shakes his head at your theatrical display of reluctance, clearly unamused by your exaggerated behavior.

he steps closer to you, his voice low and firm. “enough with the pouts. you’re not getting out of this, princess. you’re going to help me make these sweets, and you’re going to do it happily. got it?”

you roll your eyes dramatically, unable to help the annoyance bubbling up inside you. with a sarcastic huff, you mutter, “yes, dad,” the words slipping out effortlessly. it’s a phrase you’ve used countless times before whenever geto gets all strict and bossy with you.

gojo barks out a laugh, the sound echoing through the room. he can’t help but find the whole situation hilarious.

geto’s response, however, is far less amused. his eyes narrow slightly at your sarcastic comment, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “oh, princess, don’t even start. you’re really living up to the brat name tonight,” he scoffs.

“if you’re going to act like a petulant child, i can treat you like one,” geto threatens, his voice stern and commanding, his gaze locked on yours.

you mutter a half-hearted “sorry” under your breath, your face still scrunched in irritation as you grab the spatula geto handed you. the gesture feels more like a chore than a fun activity, and you can’t shake the annoyance creeping in from being forced into this situation.

geto’s unwavering gaze doesn’t let up, a mix of authority and exasperation in his eyes. it’s clear he’s not backing down, no matter how much you might want to sulk. you huff silently, resigned to your fate, and start to focus on the ingredients in front of you, trying to channel your frustration into something productive— even if it feels a bit like throwing a tantrum.

gojo watches the back-and-forth between you and geto with a stifled chuckle, clearly amused by your bratty behavior. it’s like watching two stubbornly opposing forces collide, each determined to win.

geto, on the other hand, continues to maintain his stern and commanding presence. he knows exactly how far he can push you, and he refuses to give an inch. “stop mumbling apologies and focus,” he barks, his voice a mixture of amused and expectation.

“you’re not getting out of this until you make something edible.”

the atmosphere in the kitchen is a mix of tension and challenge, as you begrudgingly begin to follow geto’s instructions on mixing the ingredients.

he watches you silently for a moment, his eyes never leaving your form. he can see the frustration and irritation still etched on your face, but he also knows that deep down, you’re enjoying this, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it. “less complaining, more stirring,” he comments with a smirk, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re following his orders.

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captain-bubble-wrap · 3 months ago

Note

Would you consider writing a story about quinnxreader. She faints in his apartment and he find her when he comes home after training or a game or something. Hes on the phone with his parents and freaks out?

I had to do some research on fainting! I hope this is okay! 🩷

"Yeah, I'm just now getting back home," Quinn answered his mother, trying to unlock his apartment's door without dropping his phone while he fumbled with his keys. "Yeah, me too. It's been a long couple of weeks. Feels good to be back."

Ellen continued to talk to her eldest son as he pushed his suitcase across the threshold. After such long trips, he was accustomed to seeing you first thing -- a guilty comfort you had spoiled him with -- so when he didn't, Quinn looked around hoping you just hadn't heard him come in. However, when he found you, it wasn't at all how he had expected.

"Y|N!?" He said breathlessly, upon seeing you laying on your side, on the floor between the kitchen and living room. The suitcase rolled forward on its own, with Quinn having kicked it when he rushed over to you; his mother questioning him about what was going on.

"I don't know! I just found her laying on the floor!" He brushed the hair from across your face and touched your cheek. You're warm to his touch but his heart was still racing. "Let me, um...I'll call you back. Ye--...yeah, I love you, too. I'll let you know. O-- Okay, love you. Bye."

Quinn's phone tumbled to the floor after ending the call with his mother. You weren't responsive to his touch or to his words, no matter what he tried.

"Honey, wake up! Please, please, wake up!" Gently, he'd give your shoulder a shake, but it didn't do anything either. "Shit! Baby, come on! Come on, come on, come on!"

His hands were trembling as he touched your face again. You were breathing which comforted him only slightly, seeing as he had no idea what was wrong with you. The seconds that ticked by felt like hours, but he never left your side -- almost like he was unable to do anything but wait. Quinn knew he should have called for an ambulance but he was frozen, looking down at you like you were just having a nap.

Eventually, your eyes would flutter open and Quinn would breathe the heaviest sigh of relief.

"Oh my god, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours. "What happened? Are you alright? Oh, you scared the shit out of me!"

You were happy to see him, but you found yourself confused by his shock and worry, then you were reminded of what had happened prior to the grey-out.

"Hi, baby," you squeaked out, trying to sit up but he wouldn't let you. Your eyelids felt heavy; everything felt so heavy.

"Shh, shh, take your time. What happened? I came home and I couldn't wake you!"

It was hard, but you had to break eye contact with him for a moment. "It was just a fainting spell, Quinny. I'm alright."

"A fainting spell?" He questioned, deep worry painting his expression once again. "I don't remember you having those before."

Realizing that you were still laid out on the floor, Quinn pulled your body into his arms and cradled you against his chest. His concern was so intense as he held you, a slight rocking motion in his movements. This was a first for him and something he didn't know how to deal with which was why he found himself struggling so much.

"They just started happening again," you confessed, leaning your head against him as you looked up into his eyes. "I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you sick?" He pressed, his hand holding your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently.

"No, baby, I'm okay."

"But you fainted."

"I know," You reassured, knowing you needed to tell him what was going on, but you feared his reaction -- he was already dealing with so much. "My blood sugar is probably just low."

Quinn's brows furrowed, "Low? Why is it low?"

You said nothing as you looked away again, knowing how guilty it made you appear.

"Baby?" He pleaded, "Talk to me, please? I'm not upset with you. I just want to know what's going on. How long have you been dealing with this?"

"Since just after you left."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to make you worry while you were away." When you looked back up at him afterwards, it pained you so much. His concern for you was as strong as his love and it was made evident with how he gazed at you, even during uncomfortable times such as these.

"I'll always worry about you, sweetheart. It's because I love you!"

"I love you, too, baby. I promise I'm okay. I'm just...tired" You said, breathlessly.

Upon saying that, Quinn put his arm under your bent legs and carried you to the sofa where he laid you down against the numerous awaiting pillows. He would kneel beside you, holding your hand in both of his.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?"

You swallowed hard, knowing he wasn't going to let it go until you told him. "I just haven't been eating much."

"Why, baby?"

"It's a stupid reason."

He didn't say anything because he didn't have to. His expression had said enough.

"I get sad when you're gone and I forget to eat," you finally confessed.

Quinn frowned, lifting your hand to his lips. "Oh, sweetheart. You've got to eat."

"I know..."

"How many times as this happened?" He asked, now putting your palm to his cheek and holding it there.

"Probably a dozen or so. I can always tell when it's going to happen, so I have a second or two to brace for it."

He was still looking at you with tense worry in his face, still holding your hand gently. Quinn wouldn't tell you, but his own stomach was twisting out of concern for you. He was so deeply troubled that his absence affected you so much, that he couldn't help feeling guilty about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry, baby," you sighed, eyes stinging from welling tears. "The whole thing is so stupid."

Quinn shook his head, trying to give you a reassuring smile. "It's not stupid, sweetheart. I'll try and be more proactive in checking in with you when I'm gone, okay? Would you like me to give you little reminders, maybe?"

"You have enough to worry about, though," you said, shaking your head.

"And I worry about you the most. You're everything to me, Y|N."

"Quinny--," you whined, tears breaking through with the guilt. "I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"I know you didn't." With his free hand, Quinn wiped away the teardrops from your skin. "I'm okay so as long as you are. But, you have to promise me that you'll stop skipping meals, okay? I don't want something more serious to happen to you. You're all alone up here, you know?"

You gave him a nod, biting your bottom lip.

"You promise me you're alright?"

You nod again, this time with a sniffle. "I am."

He pushed forward to ask a kiss from you which you obliged in giving. "Good. Now, you lay here and rest for a minute, okay? I need to call mom back then we'll see what we can do about dinner."

"Okay," you whimpered, realizing that he must have been on the phone when he found you.

"Everything's okay, babe. I promise. I'm here now."

#💌Maven's Love Notes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction

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debonairprincesposts · 2 months ago

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Alarming Distress

Summary: Reader arrives home distressed. Jason tries his best to comfort.

Words: 660

The low hum of the TV was the only sound in the apartment, a stark contrast to the cacophony that usually filled Jason's life. Case files were spread across the coffee table – petty theft, gang disputes, the usual Gotham grime. He wasn't really focused, though. His eyes kept drifting to the front door, a nervous habit he hadn't quite shaken.

Suddenly, the world exploded. The front door crashed open, slamming against the wall with a force that rattled the windows. Jason was on his feet before the echo died, adrenaline surging. Gun, always within reach under the couch, was in his hand before his mind fully registered the disruption. Years of training, of living on the edge, had hardwired him to react instantly to any sign of danger. He moved like a shadow, gun raised, heart hammering against his ribs.

He rounded the corner, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to face whatever threat awaited him. But what he found wasn't what he expected.

He found you crumpled on the floor, back pressed against the door, gasping for air like a drowning person. Your eyes were wide and unfocused, darting around the room. The immediate threat was gone, replaced by a surge of concern that eclipsed everything else.

"Baby?" he said, his voice a low rumble, trying to keep it calm, non-threatening. "Sweetheart, what happened?"

You flinched, your eyes snapping to him, but there was no recognition there, only fear. It was like looking at a stranger. You recoiled as if he was a threat.

Jason's gut twisted. He holstered his gun, the metallic click swallowed by the silence. He took a deliberate step back, lowering himself to the floor in front of you, mirroring your position.

"Princess," he said softly, using the nickname he knew you loved. "It's me, Jay. Look at me." He kept his movements slow, his hands open and visible. "It's okay. You're safe."

He watched as his words seemed to penetrate the fog in your eyes. Confusion flickered, then recognition dawned, slow and painful. A sob escaped your lips, a raw, broken sound. You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You lurched forward, reaching for him, still on your knees.

"Hey, hey, easy," Jason murmured, his own fear momentarily forgotten. He moved with practiced caution, anticipating your movement, and caught you before you could fall. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you close, his hand instinctively finding the nape of your neck, offering a grounding touch.

You clung to him, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. Your body trembled against his.

Jason held you, letting you cry. He rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, whispering reassurances against your hair. "You're okay, Baby. You're safe now. I got you. I got you."

He didn't ask questions yet. He knew from experience that pushing too soon could make things worse. He just held you, offering the familiar comfort of his presence, his warmth, his strength. He would wait until you were ready to tell him what had happened, ready to face whatever had scared you so badly.

He rubbed your back, a slow, soothing rhythm, his hand cradling the back of your neck, keeping you close. Your arms tightened around his neck, your grip desperate, seeking the comfort of his warmth, his presence. He'd learned that sometimes, just being there, being a solid, unwavering presence, was the only thing that mattered.

Finally, when your sobs began to subside, he spoke, his voice a low murmur against your hair. "You're okay," he repeated, a mantra. "You're home. You're safe with me. Just breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe."

He continued to hold you, rocking you gently, waiting for you to find your voice, waiting for you to tell him what had shattered your world. He knew, with a cold certainty, that whatever had happened, he would burn the world down to protect you.

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s-awturn · 7 months ago

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Out Of The Plans || F1 Grid

cw: angst, pain, crying, lack of communication, breakup, fight, They are idiots, no exceptions..

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: just angst and a feeling of heartbreak. Appreciate me because I wrote this in the middle of a horrible migraine

LEWIS HAMILTON:

It had been like a shock to your brain, this couldn't be happening, not at that moment. You held the pregnancy test in your shaking hands and checked the label again to make sure of the result.

A little line: negative.

Two little lines: positive.

And on your test there were two bright red lines, telling you in your face that you were pregnant. Oh God, you were pregnant and unfortunately there was no more inopportune time for a pregnancy. Okay, everything would be fine when you told Lewis, he always wanted a family, everything would be fine.

“This shouldn’t be happening, Y/N!” he paced back and forth in the huge living room of the apartment you shared. "Should not!"

Your stomach churned in fear, this wasn't exactly the conversation you were expecting to have when he got back from Singapore.

“Well, that happens when two partners have crazy sex and forget the condom!” you said as energetically as he did.

“You said your birth control was up to date!” he paused, looking at you with nothing but rebuke.

“Of course they were! But they don't work miracles, Lewis! Especially for the two of us who have sex almost every day without a condom!" you stood up and stood in front of him. "Now there is no point in pointing fingers and saying who was wrong, we have a baby on the way and we need to think about everything.”

Something strange flickered in Lewis's dark eyes and his heart sank.

“I can’t,” he hissed, pulling away from you. “I can’t deal with this right now, my life is a mess, I can’t deal with a baby right now.”

You felt your heart stop beating, what the hell was he saying? How come he couldn't deal when you were the one who would have to change everything?! Because abortion didn't even cross your mind.

“What is it like?”

Lewis licked his lips nervously, tearing his eyes away from yours, the tension in the room was raw and thick as fog, which made you even more apprehensive. He couldn't be saying what he wanted to say. Not Lewis.

“I can’t compromise the rest of the season, my performance with a baby now, especially since I’m almost at Ferrari,” he said it all quickly, in one breath. And you froze in place, blinking slowly as it sunk in that your boyfriend was saying he didn't want the baby.

You took a deep breath, you wouldn't let yourself cry in front of him, not anymore.

“Are you serious, Lewis? Are you really serious?”

He continued to look out the window, staring at the Monte Carlo marina, not having the courage to look at you.

“You, who always wanted a family, who made plans with me, are you saying you don't want the baby? That you can't handle it when I'm the one who's going to have my whole life changed to bring him into the world?!” It was his turn to walk around the room.

“But you didn’t even want a child now! You just got promoted at work! You can’t be judging me for that!”

That fell like a bucket of cold water on you, really, having a baby at that moment wasn't the best thing that could happen, but it was already there, it happened and the baby was already there.

“Alright Hamilton, the baby and I won’t hold up your championship, if you have any chance of overtaking McLaren, but either way, don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with that.” You said pointing to yourself, your hand supporting your still flat belly.

“Y/N, we can solve this another way-” he started, but you held up your hand to silence him.

“For the love of God, shut up, don’t make me hate you, Hamilton” you said and turned away, going to the bedroom. It was obvious that it was over, because there was no way you were going to abandon the baby too. Fuck Lewis and his problems.

He went after you, but was met with the suite door slammed in his face. You packed your things, only what you bought or took from your own apartment, you didn't want anything from him besides the little resident who rented your uterus on a nine-month contract .

“Everything is fine, baby, it’s going to be okay, I promise,” you said, standing in front of the mirror, imagining what your belly would look like as the months went by. “I will take care of everything”

You left the suite with a suitcase and two handbags, you had no idea where you were going at that moment, but anywhere was better than there with Lewis.

“Why are you going? We can work this out, honey—”

“Oh my God, Lewis!” you exclaimed, calling the elevator, “we can’t work anything out! You don’t want the baby, you don’t want us, so obviously this is over and I’m leaving! A great championship for you!”

When the elevator doors closed, you allowed yourself to cry, you never imagined Lewis would do that, never! You sniffed, wiping your nose on the sleeve of the only sweatshirt you stole from him. You wouldn't take anything else from him.

“We don’t need him, baby,” you whispered, as if the baby could hear. You took one last look at the apartment that had been your home for four beautiful years and with a heavy heart said, “Goodbye Lew.”

CARLOS SAINZ:

The doctor's words echoed inside your head.

Pregnant, you were twelve weeks pregnant, or three months. That was unexpected, very unexpected because you and Carlos didn't discuss starting a family, this discussion never reached you even after years of a stable relationship.

“Miss?” the doctor’s voice sounded distant to your ears, you were still focused on the blood test results.

Pregnant.

Your mind fell into limbo and the last thing you saw was the doctor running towards you, calling your name.

The smell of antiseptic and alcohol made you wake up slowly, your head felt like it weighed a ton and your eyes were still blurry, you struggled to remember what had happened and like a bomb exploding, the word ‘pregnant’ popped into your mind.

“Calm down, calm down, you can’t exert yourself too much right now, Y/N.” You recognized the voice of Andie, your best friend from college. “Here, drink some water, the doctor said it would help you.” She handed you the glass, expecting you to drink all of the contents. “How are you feeling? You were unconscious for almost all day long, I almost died when they called me.”

��I’m fine, I guess... What did they tell you?” you handed the cup back to her.

“Nothing, the doctor said you felt unwell... What are you-” she was interrupted by Carlos’ abrupt entry into the room. He was a mess, still in his Ferrari training gear and with his hair a mess.

“¿Estás bien, vida mía?” (Are you okay, my love?).

“Yes, yes I’m fine... I just felt sick” you twisted the bed sheets between your fingers, how would you tell Carlos that you were expecting a baby, that you would be parents in six months or less? You looked at Andie, silently asking her to leave, the girl nodded and left you two alone. “It was just a scare,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “I got the test results back, remember how I was feeling really sick last week?”

“Yes, yes, I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to eat that steak tartare...”

“It wasn’t because of the steak tartare, Carlos.” You looked at him, feeling your nervousness tighten in your stomach. “I’ve been sick all week because I’m pregnant, I’m three months pregnant.” you said abruptly, watching Carlos lose color in his face and stagger away from the stretcher.

“Pregnant? B-But we were being careful!” he said, you couldn’t understand the emotions that showed on his face.

“Accidents happen, Carlos... Not that getting pregnant is an accident, especially when you have sex without a condom...” you said, waiting for him to calm down.

“This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t want children now!” he said exasperatedly. “I don’t!”

Something inside you broke when you heard him, you weren't ready to take on motherhood yet, your internet work was finally bearing fruit, your relationship with Carlos was going well, you never thought you'd include a child in that equation, but there she was. But none of that was as scary as the idea that her boyfriend didn't want the baby he helped conceive.

“You don’t want to?” you repeated his words slowly.

“No! Of course not! A baby now would get in the way of my career!”

And suddenly, it all came crashing down on his head like an anvil. Tears stung your eyes and the words came out before you could filter them.

“Go away, Carlos,” you were surprised to notice how firm your voice was. “Get out of here, get out of my sight.”

"But amor... We never talked about children, you never told me you wanted them!” The Spaniard tried to touch you, but you backed away, avoiding him as if he were burning you.

“It’s not about what I want or don’t want, Carlos,” you snapped. “I really didn’t want a baby, but I’ll have one in six months, with or without you! So decide whether you’re with me or leaving!”

“I-I can’t... I-I don’t want kids, I need to dedicate myself to the fullest and a baby will get in my way” he stammered, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Go away Carlos, I’ve heard enough” you turned your face away so you wouldn’t see him, ignoring his attempts. It was only when the door closed with a dull thud that you could let your strong facade fall and allowed yourself to cry to the point where you didn't notice when Andie came in and wrapped you in a protective hug.

“What happened? Carlos left as if he was being chased by the devil” she rubbed your back, trying to make you stop crying. Between sobs, you explained what had happened, feeling her embrace tighten. “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened, I didn't think Carlos was a son of a bitch... What do you intend to do?”

“I-I don’t know... Maybe I should give the baby up for adoption, I don’t have the courage to have an abortion...”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you, sis.”

You snuggled into her loving embrace, unsure of what your life would be like in the coming months.

CHARLES LECLERC:

“When are you going to tell him, dear?” Your mother asked you as the two of you set the lunch table, it was Sunday and once a month, religiously his family gathered at his grandparents' house. Charles had already attended so many lunches that when he didn't show up, his grandparents and uncles would ask. You loved knowing that your family loved your boyfriend. “I'm sure he'll be happy, Charles loves children.”

You nodded and a small smile appeared, confident that he would love the news. You discovered you were pregnant a few days ago and had already noticed the signs. You had decided to tell her about the pregnancy after lunch, even bought a pair of children's shoes with a Ferrari design on them. Who could judge you? You were so anxious!

Soon, the family gathered around the table, talking loudly and laughing nonstop, preventing any thoughts beyond the conversations and laughter. The conversation you were having with one of your cousins was interrupted by your grandmother, questioning when you and Charles would finally have children.

Charles choked on his wine and cleared his throat. “Mhmm well... I thought Y/N mentioned that I don’t want kids.”

“You never told me that, Charl...” you said just for him to hear “I never knew that”

“No?” he looked surprised. “Really?”

Silence fell uncomfortably over the table, you gripped the handle of the cutlery you were holding, feeling your anxiety grow in a negative way.

“You’re great with kids, dear, you’d be a great dad.” your grandmother said, surprised. After all, the Monegasque was adored by the children in the family and got along very well with them all, hearing that he didn't want children was a surprise.

“I’m a good uncle,” he gave a modest smile. “I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.”

Maybe it was your fault, you and Charles didn't have that conversation, so you couldn't know he didn't want children. But it was painful anyway, mainly because you were already pregnant.

Hours later, as you drove home, you couldn't stop thinking about his words.

I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.

“You are very quiet, mon cher” He said, resting his hand on your thigh. You jumped, caught up in your thoughts, you didn't even notice his presence until he touched you. “Did something happen?”

“I was thinking about the lunch conversation...”

“It was a strange atmosphere, wasn’t it?” he gave a weak laugh, giving her leg a gentle squeeze “with so many children there, do your grandparents still want more?” his laugh sounded strange to your ears, just like that conversation.

“I’m pregnant, Charles,” you said suddenly and screamed when he slammed the car on the brakes. “CHARLES?!”

He guided the car to the side of the road and looked at you, he was as scared as you were.

“You are what?!”

“Pregnant, Charles! I was planning to tell you today, but I found out you don’t want kids!” you exasperated, loosening your belt.

“That can’t be true, you’re joking,” he said nervously. “Y/N I don’t-”

“I know! I know that, Charles! You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

You saw pure terror in his eyes and braced yourself for whatever he would say.

“I don’t want this baby, Y/N, I don’t want to be a father, not today, not ever” he said.

You took a deep breath, feeling your head throb with the headache that would soon come.

“Well then I guess we can’t go through with this, Charles,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will not give up my son for you or anyone else.”

“Mon cher, a child would disrupt our lives forever, we would no longer be able to travel, we would lose our peace and tranquility”

“You won’t lose anything, Charles, you don’t need to worry… Now, if it’s not too much to ask, can you continue? I intend to move out of your apartment today.”

“Beau, (beautiful) It doesn't have to be like this... This child-”

“Don’t say anything else Charles, don’t turn the love I feel for you into resentment” you begged, avoiding his eyes.

The rest of the way was done in complete silence, despite the grief that broke your heart, you would not let it consume you. A life outside of that would be born in a few months and you couldn't let bitterness stop you from living the good moments that the future would bring you.

Charles still tried to stop you from leaving, saying he would leave you with the apartment, but you didn't listen to him or give him a chance to convince you.

“I hope you’re happy, Charles,” was the last thing you said before you left. From then on, it was just you and the baby.

LANDO NORRIS:

There were at least five tests done on the bathroom counter and you were in a panic, pure panic. It wasn't the time to have a baby, no way. You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as you thought about the situation, there was so much at stake.

You had to decide what you were going to do, whether to have that baby, how you were going to tell Lando... Oh God, there was still Lando. You couldn't even think about what his reaction would be. There were mentions of a son, perhaps after he had won a championship or two and had achieved everything he wanted, but not at that moment, in which both were still building their lives, their careers.

“I’m here, honey!” he shouted from the living room and you threw the tests in the trash without thinking. You checked your appearance in the mirror, trying to dispel the look of astonishment that covered your face.

You put on a fake smile and ran into the living room, finding your boyfriend stretching his body. It was clear that he was exhausted, but he was glowing, winning made him feel very good and you admired the Briton's bright eyes.

“Congrats on your victory, Lan!” you jumped into his arms, kissing Lando all over his face as he laughed.

“I wish you were there, honey, but you’d hate the weather… Anyway, how about we have dinner to celebrate?”

“That’s a great idea! Why don’t you take a shower while I get ready?” You gave him a peck on the lips. “I took a shower just before you arrived and I’m already moving our time forward... You know I take a long time to get ready.”

“Ok ok, will it be sad to take a shower without you? Yes, but if it means we won’t be long in getting out, great!” he said playfully and you responded with a light slap on his arm.

“You’re ridiculous, Lando Norris! Go take a shower, you clown!”

He laughed, grabbed his carry-on bag and went to the bathroom. You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and went to the closet to get ready. Despite being happy for your boyfriend's victory, you didn't have the slightest desire to go out and celebrate anything, but denying dinner would make Lando suspicious. You would take the time of dinner to think about what you would say, the panic gradually subsided, allowing you to think clearly.

You were finishing putting on your makeup when Lando came out of the shower, he still had the towel wrapped around his waist. From the position you were in, you could only hear his footsteps approaching the closet.

“Y/N, what does this mean?” he appeared in your field of vision, holding up one of the pregnancy tests. “Are you pregnant?”

You felt like the ground was disappearing beneath your feet and the earth was swallowing you up. From the look on Lando's face, you wanted the earth to actually swallow you. You'd never been claustrophobic, but that closet looked terrifyingly small.

“Answer me!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m pregnant!” You shouted back. “I found out today.”

He laughed, there was no humor in his voice, just sarcasm and disbelief. “I should have guessed.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you stuttered, dropping your makeup on the vanity and taking a tentative step towards Lando.

“This whole shit, I should have known that at some point you would do this, who doesn’t want to get pregnant by a Formula One driver, right?” he said furiously and threw the test at your feet.

Reality hit you like a punch. Lando was claiming that you got pregnant on purpose. He thought you were a gold digger.

“Are you suggesting that I wanted to get pregnant on purpose?! Lando, I just graduated! I don’t even work yet, why the hell would I want a child now?” You yelled at him.

“Work?” he laughed wryly, running his hands through his hair. “As if you would think of that, not being supported by my money!”

His every word felt like a stab to your chest.

“I never wanted a penny from you, Lando! I always refused any thing or privilege from you!” you answered him, sitting down. Your body felt heavy, full of tiredness. “I never wanted anything from you but yourself!”

“You’re a fake, a liar like all the others!” he accused you, pointing his finger in your direction. “Get your things and get out of my house, I don't want to know anything about you anymore” he took a deep breath and for you, the rejection was nothing compared to the pain of being called a gold digger, a dowry hunter. That was a hard blow to his dignity.

You threw your clothes on the floor, only the ones you had taken to his house. After dropping all the clothes on the floor, you grabbed some bags to put all your belongings in. At that moment, Lando had already dressed and was standing in the middle of the suite.

“Tell me where you will be staying so I know where to send the child support check.” He demanded and you glared at him, you were just as angry as he was.

“You and your fucking money can rot in hell, Lando. My son and I don’t need you at all, you're dead to me, Norris, completely dead and buried.” you left the room and ignoring his screams.

Lando and his money could go fuck themselves, you never wanted to see him again!

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Sorry, I can't see Pastry in this scenario 🫣

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

That saying “in the blacksmith’s house, the spit is made of wood” made a lot of sense to you, being a doctor you knew when people were unwell just by looking at them, it was a joke not to have noticed the signs of pregnancy. So imagine how surprised you were to find that not only was your period late, but you were also experiencing frequent nausea and episodes of dizziness.

Even though getting pregnant wasn't one of your dreams, you were happy, after all, everything in your life was going well: you had a stable job, your finances were going well and your fiancé was great. Even though it wasn't planned, you were already more than excited for the baby's arrival.

You decided to tell Max during his week off, where he would be more relaxed, without the stress of work. Until his week off arrived and you were jumping up and down with anticipation to tell him, you waited for Max to relax enough. You knew he would like it, Max loved kids.

“Honey, I have something to tell you” you took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t playing and sat on his lap.

“Sure, mijn liefje (my love), I’m all ears” he took off his headphones and turned off the monitors, it was always like that when you talked to him, nothing else mattered to Max other than what you said.

“Straight to the point, I’m six weeks pregnant—”

“What do you mean you’re pregnant? That’s not possible, still more than six weeks”

An alert sounded in your mind, was Max really suggesting that you might have cheated on him?

“I was in the middle of a series of races, we barely saw each other during that month” he argued, making the doubts he had even more obvious.

“Max, you can’t be suggesting that!”

“In that case, explain to me how you are pregnant if we weren’t together!”

“Is your memory so bad that you don’t remember that we were together in Spielberg?!” you threw at him, irritated by his distrust. “I spent the entire Austrian GP weekend with you!”

“We had sex once that week, there’s no way that it was that sex that was rewarded with a child!” Max looked increasingly distraught.

“Are you kidding me, Max? I never cheated on you, I barely have time for you, let alone another man!” You were nervous to the point of shaking, you sat back down, trying to keep calm.

“I don’t believe you, Y/N, I’m sure this child’s father is that pediatrician at the hospital!”

“I’m not going to listen to anything else, you’re delusional,” you mumbled, tears blurring your vision.

“You better go away, I don’t want to know anything about you or that child!”

You wiped away your tears, feeling humiliated, hurt and offended.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make a point of letting you know anything about us,” you assured. “I'll send someone to get my things, or leave them at the reception and I'll pick them up later, I don't know!" you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag.

“Be grateful if I don’t throw it away.”

“Whatever Max, do whatever you want, I don’t care” and with that, you slammed the apartment door hard enough to knock the picture of the two of you off the wall.

#f1 imagine #f1 #sawturn #f1 grid x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula one fanfiction #f1 grid #f1 headcanons #sawturn headcanons

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silkythewriter · 1 year ago

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Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle. (Part 1)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: I JUST WANNA WORK ON SOMETHING FOR MYSELF BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO DOING REQUESTS ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“You should've seen the way she looked, igual que un ángel

Heaven's her residence y ella no se va a caer

They just can't reach her, princesita inalcanzable“

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

The air was heavy almost unbreathable, how the demons lived like this was dancing around in your mind. It was so much different in hell then in heaven, there was so much… malice but that’s to be expected you supposed.

But you choose to continue walking, in your disguise of course, the out rage there would be if one of heavens top angels were in hell would be quite the mess to say the least. But you had to risk it, if charlie was right, if souls truly could be redeemed…maybe…just maybe, you’d be able to see him once more.

Finally you reached the hotel doors, and with one last stride stood right were the door knob was. Your nerves were going array to say the least, you knew what this rebellion could cost you. But it was for him, it always was, wasn’t it?, you quickly snapped out of you mind as you took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting anxiously. A creek rang out in your ears as the door opened, coming face to face with the princess of hell herself. She looked at you with confusion before quickly turning it into excitement as she bounced around quickly grabbing your arm and letting you in as she shut the door in a hurry.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She squealed. Leaving you surprise after the rough hearing in heaven she had just a day ago. “I’m glad I made it aswell, it took much more then I was expecting but I’m glad no one seemed to notice!” You said gracefully as you could. “Have you made sure everyone’s away?” You asked in hushed tone, she quickly nodded as she explained “yes I have!, though it cost a bit but Cherri took them out for a bit!” She said nervously playing with her hair “although this time I said to stray away from clubs…” she said with a heavy sigh. You placed your hand on her shoulder comforting as you began to speak “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You said with a sure smile. Making her regain hers as she agreed “yea! Your right, okay, let’s do this!” She said as her hands turned in to fist to pump herself up.

“So, what was your idea?”

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“So! What do you think?, I know it sounds a bit crazy but!-“ you quickly cut her off “it isn’t crazy Charlie! It just needs some work…” you smiled softly at the girl making her look back at her board covered in strings and notes. “Yea.. I know..” she said pacing “look, I know I said I have connections with adam.. but it’s gonna take some time to convince him.. especially if you and I wanna not make it look suspicious” you said pondering what your next move should be.

“I know but even for that one day in heaven I could tell he has some favoritism for you!” Charlie exclaimed “yes but-“ you inquired before she cut you off “look, Y/n, I just need the date of the extermination to be pushed back! He said he’ll come for us first and I just… I don’t know what to do! He won’t listen!” She said as her hand stressfully began to run through her blond hair as her pacing picked up pace. “He won’t listen, but I’ll make him listen Charlie, that’s an angels promise” you said trying to calm the girl. Which seemingly helped her before she sat down next to you sighing. Before turning her head to you questioning something in her head before finally speaking up.“I know this might be rude, don’t get me wrong! I’m so glad you actually listen to my idea! But…what’s the reasoning? I mean barely anyone even tried agreeing! But you’re.. just leading a hand for the hell of it?” She questioned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. You only stared at her as you questioned if you should even trust her with such information you were about to tell.“I…I have someone who’s dear to me here, and I just, I just want him back in my arms” you confessed making the princesses eyes widen. “Who!” She asked almost too quickly, you shook your head in disappointment “I apologize princess but I’m afraid that’s something I wish to not reveal” you said.

“Look I have to get going, someones probably already getting suspicious of my absents” you said standing up and dusting off your clothing “but like I promised I’ll see what I can do and I’ll push the date as far back as I can, okay?” You said as you looked down at Charlie who still was seated at the couch. She could only nod, but you could tell she had some Sorrow in her mood. “Please keep your head up high princess, do not let them knock down your dreams.” You said silently as you bowed to her “I’ll be taking my leave but please put your trust in me, I will keep your and my people safe” you said with a smile as she stood up eyes drifting to you. “I..I trust you y/n” she said with a soft smile you only nodded to this as a portal behind you soon began to open. “I’ll come back soon, and with good news” you said as you slowly backed into the portal “take care princess” you said one final time at her.

She nodded as you gave her one last reassuring smile before fully walking into the portal. leaving the princess in a half better state then she was before.

But little did both of you know, a red haired demon was carefully listening in to both of you. Oh how his smile grew all the more bigger

His precious y/n was soon to be home,

With him once more.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

EEEE THIS IS PART ONE IM WORKING IN PART TWO SOON I REALLY AM GOING CRAZY FOR THE STORY IM ABT TO COOK UP AHHH ̋(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

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honeypiehotchner · 22 days ago

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The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part sixteen

Y'all. I swore this fic wasn't going to be novel-length, but *gestures to the current WC in progress* I fear I've done it again. There's still so much to happen, so it's likely that this will be another 30ish chapter fic😭 That being said, we've reached our turning point for these two...maybe things will start looking up soon 👀

Warnings: angst :( the truth comes out :(

You wake to a missed call from Penelope and an ache in your bones. The day comes back to you in fits and starts: speaking to Richard Monroe again, arguing with Hotch again, the car chase, the hospital— Hotch knows the truth.

A wave of nausea overtakes you when you remember. Hotch knows. Hotch knows and not because you told him, but because he went behind your back.

God, and he probably told the entire team, so now they all know, and they probably hate you for keeping it a secret from them.

Your phone buzzes again with a text and you pick it up, seeing that it’s just Pen asking if you’d like some company for dinner. Just you, her, and some Chinese takeout.

You tell her Of course because you’ll never turn down time with Pen, especially not including food. And because…maybe this will be good. Hotch said he looked at your file, and there’s only one person capable of pulling it and unsealing it for him.

You can’t be mad at Pen, though. Not ever. Because Hotch is her superior just like he is yours, so you can’t blame her for doing what she was told. You just wonder if she read it and kept it a secret, or if she didn’t glance at it at all.

Pen answers that question for you the second she gets to your apartment with the food. As soon as everything is set out on the coffee table in your living room, she blurts it all out.

“I didn’t read your file,” she starts to ramble. “And for the record, I told Hotch that what he was doing was stupid and a betrayal of your trust and that I didn’t agree with it at all. I gave him your file because he asked and he’s my boss, but I made sure to give him a piece of my mind when I did. You don’t just go around digging into people’s pasts like that! He should’ve just asked you! And now he’s got the whole team on high alert being all cryptic and—”

“Pen. Pen, slow down.”

She does, pausing to suck in a deep breath. She takes both of your hands in hers. “I just wanted you to know I’d never do that to you.”

You smile softly, squeezing her hands. “I know.”

“And that if you need anything, anything at all, I don’t care what it is, I’m here,” she continues. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her. “A little sore, but I’m okay.”

“No, I mean,” she pauses, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Are you in any kind of trouble?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What makes you say that?” Did Hotch seriously spill your secret?

“Hotch had me bring out everything from the last few cases, and dig up everything on Richard Monroe. I know you were speaking to him because he kept asking for you, and Hotch sounded really worried, but he wouldn’t tell any of us what this is all about, so I’m just…I’m scared.”

You frown. “Don’t be scared, Pen, I’m okay.” You pause, wondering if you should let her in. It seems like Hotch hasn’t told anyone, so only he and Rossi are in the know on why he’d want Garcia to dig all of this stuff up. And if he asked for everything from the last few cases, his suspicions might be the same as yours. “You really didn’t look at my file when you unsealed it?”

She shakes her head vigorously. “I didn’t. Shut my eyes and everything. You should’ve seen the sticky note I put on it— I don’t even remember what I wrote but I know it was scathing. I kind of hoped it would make Hotch have second thoughts about digging through your past like that.”

Oh, Penelope. “Well,” you let out a strained laugh, “I appreciate that. He— Pen, what I had sealed was about my biological father.”

She stares at you, eyes wide and expectant.

“My father is The Strangler,” you say, searching her eyes for any recognition. “Carson Adkins. My mom had her and my last name changed back to her maiden name when I was fourteen, and she moved us all the way to Washington to escape from all that he had done. We started over then, and I thought I’d never have to deal with any of it again, but working at the FBI, obviously I had to disclose any other names I had for a background check, and, well…”

“Oh,” Pen breathes. “Oh my god.”

You nod. “Strauss agreed to let me seal that portion of my file since it was twenty years ago now, and my father is dead, so it’s not like any of it is truly relevant — or so I thought, I guess.”

“Wait, but if he’s dead, then…”

You know what she’s asking, and you don’t have an answer. “I know. And I have no idea. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Okay,” she exhales, squeezing your hands again. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll…I’ll turn over every piece of information that I have to, I’ll hack into anything, I’ll—”

“Pen,” you laugh, pulling her toward you to wrap your arms around her in a hug. “Thank you.”

She holds you tight. “Thank you for telling me.”

You shrug as you pull away. “Figured it was time, I guess.”

She shakes her head. “It’s yours to tell, so whenever you were ready would’ve been the perfect time.”

You smile sadly. “I was getting ready, I was going to talk to Hotch about it soon. But then Richard brought it up, and…” You sigh. “It all went downhill from there.”

Pen frowns. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you deflect, starting to feel that you’ve had enough of talking about this. “What should we watch while we eat?”

Pen takes the bait with ease, immediately launching into an eager retelling of some movie she just heard of that she has to show you. It’s a welcome distraction.

+++

You return to the BAU the next day with your head held high, arriving much earlier than usual on purpose. You’d rather be settled in when the rest of the team arrives than walking in with their eyes all glued to you.

It works in your favor, except for the fact that Rossi is already there and stirring his coffee when you walk through the doors.

“Back already?” he muses, but you can see the concern in his face.

“Yep,” you nod, setting your stuff down on your desk. “Why are you here so early?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, don’t,” you huff. “Move over.”

You grab a mug from the cabinet, pouring the coffee nearly to the brim. You can feel Rossi watching you, but he doesn’t say anything.

You decide to beat him to it. “Yes, I’m fine, no broken bones, no concussion, just badly bruised and got some scrapes everywhere,” you gesture to your arms and your forehead. “I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rossi replies, still watching you with a certain look you can’t place.

You sip the coffee, watching him just as intensely. “So,” you pause. “How much did Hotch spill yesterday while I wasn’t here?”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“Sure,” you scoff. “Did he tell you what he did? How long he’s known?”

Rossi looks down at his own coffee. Guilty.

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes, turning to head back to your desk. You pause halfway, spinning back around. “Why didn’t you tell me he knew?”

“I wanted him to tell you that himself,” Rossi replies. “Because he was out of line doing what he did, and I’ve told him that. He should’ve asked you, and believe me, I’ve told him what he should’ve done.”

You pause, gripping your mug. “Right.”

“I knew you would be upset,” Rossi says. “And you have every right to be.”

“Thank you,” you say, startled by his validation. “He didn’t tell the team?”

“No,” Rossi shakes his head. “He told everyone to go home early.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “But—” The words die in your throat when you see Hotch come through the glass doors, pausing just inside when he spots you here so early, coffee already in hand.

“Agent L/N,” Hotch says, shock all over his face.

“Hotch,” you reply with a curt nod.

He doesn’t bother with anything else, walking past you to head up to his office in silence. You watch him go.

You hate this. The silence between you two, the clipped words, the averted eyes. You’re used to the heat, the arguing, the glares. You don’t know why, but you want that back.

But you’re tired. You’re so tired of this. Keeping this secret from the team, hiding behind a new name, pretending like there’s nothing deeper underneath the anger you and Hotch share.

Your feet move before you know what they’re doing, and you’re standing in Hotch’s office before you realize it.

Hotch freezes where he’s standing behind his desk, unpacking his briefcase. He stands up straight, waiting for you to break the silence.

“I’m going to tell the team the truth today,” you say firmly. “Garcia and I had dinner last night, and she told me you had her bring up everything from the last few cases. Do you think they’re connected?”

Hotch hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “Do you?”

Your fingers tighten around the mug as you nod slowly. “Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since we found the body outside the elementary school,” you murmur, focusing on the spine of a random book on Hotch’s shelf. “That’s where my dad— where Adkins usually dumped bodies.” You pause, swallowing thickly and dragging your eyes back to Hotch’s. “I thought I was just on edge from Richard somehow recognizing me, and that I was forcing connections that weren’t there, so I pushed it down. But after yesterday…” I’m scared. Don’t make me say it. But I’m terrified.

Hotch nods slowly, looking down at his desk for a moment. “Alright. When everyone gets here, we can meet in the conference room.”

“Okay,” you reply. You turn to leave, pausing in the doorway when Hotch calls out your name. You don’t turn to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should’ve let you come to me.”

You shake your head as you leave, heading back down to your desk.

Slowly, the team begins to trickle in. Reid first, nose shoved in a book like always. JJ and Prentiss next, coffees in hand. Garcia and Morgan next, coffees also in hand, except there’s a third one with your name on it that Derek hands off to you. You take it easily, having already finished the mug you filled earlier.

Once you take stock of everyone being here, you nod toward the conference room. “Let’s head up. I’ve got something I need to talk to you guys about.”

Morgan’s eyebrows furrow immediately. “Oh…‘kay.”

You head up the stairs, passing by Hotch’s office to knock softly. He’s on the phone. “Everyone’s here.”

Hotch nods once. “I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and follows you.

Rossi peers out of his office, following behind Hotch as you all file into the conference room.

You don’t bother sitting down, standing up front by the screen, though nothing is on it, and there won’t be. At least not for now. Everyone sits around the table, eyes expectantly watching you, Derek most of all. So Hotch must’ve hinted at something, but not given anything away.

This feels like a reverse intervention. You push past that feeling.

You purposefully don’t look at Hotch as you begin speaking, though you do glance at Rossi.

“Well,” you pause, adjusting your grip on the takeaway coffee cup. “I haven’t been exactly honest with you all, but not out of any malicious intent. I didn’t think this was relevant, but the past few weeks have started to convince me otherwise. So.” You take a deep breath. “My real surname is Adkins. My father was Carson Adkins, The Strangler.”

Silence echoes all around you in the conference room.

You clear your throat, moving forward, because unfortunately, that isn’t the biggest bomb you have to drop on them. “I believe the last few cases we’ve gone on have been connected somehow. Lila’s kidnapping mirrored mine almost exactly, down to her father turning himself in to help find her. Richard Monroe somehow recognized me — that I still don’t understand, but after what happened yesterday when we finished speaking to him, I believe he’s connected to the unsub we’re looking for.”

“Um, what unsub are we looking for?” Reid pipes up.

“The one who left us the note,” you answer. “Gambit. I’d find it hard to believe if it wasn’t him who chased Hotch and I in the car yesterday, given that the car he drove was a victim’s from the last case. He had to know somehow that we were leaving the prison, he had to get her car somehow. The way he disposed of the bodies was almost exactly the same as my father, not to mention strangling them.”

“So this guy’s a copycat?” Morgan asks.

“Not exactly,” Reid says.

“It’s almost like he’s doing a Greatest Hits tour,” Prentiss says.

“But why?” JJ asks.

“He’s playing a game,” Hotch says. “He’s taunting us.”

“Or taunting me,” you add. “And I don’t know why. Maybe he knew my dad, I don’t know. But it’s getting out of hand, and…” You pause, looking around at everyone, even daring to glance at Hotch. “I need your help.”

“Whatever you need,” Prentiss says.

“We’ve got you,” Morgan says firmly. “What do you need?”

“That’s the problem,” you laugh shakily. “I don’t know. I don’t know who we’re looking for, I don’t know why he’s coming after me twenty years later, I don’t know anything.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” Morgan says. “Where do we start?”

You’re at a loss for words again.

Thankfully, Garcia fills the silence for you. “I’ve pulled everything from the other cases, and everything on Richard Monroe. I’ll send it to all of you.” She starts gathering her things.

“Dig up anything you can on Carson Adkins,” you add. “Nothing is too small. And I’ll fill in the blanks with what I can remember.”

Garcia nods slowly, squeezing your shoulder as she passes by you.

Rossi pulls the empty chair next to him out for you, gesturing for you to sit. You take it, your legs shaking, and not from the coffee.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” Rossi murmurs, giving you a fond look.

“Thanks,” you sigh. You look up at everyone around the table, their eyes all watching you with mixes of sympathy, sadness, pity, and whatever else. “Alright guys. I’m an open book, so. What do you wanna know?”

JJ leans forward onto her elbows. “Are you okay?”

You nod, though you’re not so sure of your answer. “Yeah, I just— I really wanna find this guy.”

“We will,” Rossi says quietly. “Why don’t we start with the conversation with Richard? What did he say to you?”

You see Hotch tense, just barely. Probably imperceptibly to the rest of the team, but you see the change — the clench of his jaw, the way he goes as still as a statue.

“Nothing important, seriously,” you say. “He wasted our time for most of it, but then he said I know who’s doing this, just that I don’t want to admit it to myself.” You pause, looking around the table. “But I don’t know who’s doing this. Richard thinks it’s someone who was close with my dad, but I don’t know anyone who was.”

You’re careful not to mention Richard’s taunting about Hotch being your guard dog and all the implications that comes with. Or that the car chase involved you sitting in Hotch’s lap. Which you still haven’t forgotten about, and will be bringing up to him one day — in private at least.

“Is there someone we can ask?” JJ asks tentatively. “Someone who knew your dad?”

You shake your head. “My mom passed away last year,” you answer. “And I don’t have contact with any of his family. They didn’t like that my mom moved us away and changed our name.”

Silence coats the room.

“If he had friends, I didn’t know about them,” you continue. “Mom and I never really talked about him once we moved away.”

“I’ll have Garcia look into it,” Hotch says. Then, almost regretfully, he adds, “Unfortunately, this won’t be the only thing on our plate today. Use of Force Reports are due again soon, and Strauss doesn’t want any delays this time. So, while we wait for some information to come in, I need you all to work on those, please.”

Everyone nods, standing from their chairs to return to their desks to tackle the paperwork. The sooner those reports get done, the sooner all their attention can be devoted to figuring this gambit out.

As you’re about to walk around Hotch to leave, he stops you with the briefest of touches on your arm. Barely there, you’re almost unsure of if he actually touched you.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says quietly. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make this easier for you.”

You nod slowly, despite knowing there is absolutely nothing he can do — or anyone, for that matter — to make this any easier. “Thank you,” you say anyway. “I appreciate it.”

He nods once and leaves you alone, returning to his office. As you pass by, you hear him returning the phone call he was on earlier.

He leaves his door and blinds open, clearly sending the same message in his actions as he did with his words. If there’s anything I can do.

You’re not sure what to do with that.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #The Gambit #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner angst #angst angst angst

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ldydeath · 2 months ago

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I'm Yours | Choi Seung-hyun (T.O.P)

Summary: You and Seunghyun can’t stand each other. What’ll happen when you two get stuck in an elevator? Warnings: None Author’s Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you like it!

“Oh shut up, Seunghyun.” You rolled your eyes, throwing a piece of popcorn at your friend as he continued on about whatever he and Jiyong were talking about.

His eyes widened and he crossed his arms as he turned to look at you, halting his words mid sentence. Jiyong let out a small laugh, shaking his head before he walked to the other side of the room. You and Seunghyun’s arguments could get ugly and slightly annoying, Jiyong wanted no part of that.

“Why do I have to shut up and he doesn’t?” Seunghyun pointed a finger in Jiyong’s direction and you shrugged.

“Because I like Jiyong and I can’t stand you.”

“I hate you.” Seunghyun pouted, a glare on his face as he made his way back to his friends.

You shrugged a satisfied smirk on your face as you watched Seunghyun walk away. You didn’t know why you liked annoying him so much, but you didn’t think you’d ever stop. Ever since you’d started working with BIGBANG you’d had this relationship with Seunghyun. You figured your relationship with the other guys was pretty normal but there was something about the way you’d bicker with Seunghyun that you just really enjoyed.

Your eyes wandered around the room before stopping on Seunghyun again, he was tall and incredibly handsome, sure, but there was this soft side underneath his hard exterior and it was beautiful to see a man so confident in himself to let that show often. He shifted and you looked down, pulling out your sketch pad. There was no reality in which you’d live it down if you got caught staring at him.

You had been working on a costume design for Deasung when you noticed a shadow on your book and looked up with a raised brow. You’d expected it to be Jiyong peeking at your work to give you some ideas and were genuinely surprised to see Seunghyun standing over you. He never really took interest in costume designs, just wearing whatever was picked out for him. But yet here he was, looking over the outfits with a look of interest. Almost like he had something to add.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You let out a sigh, slamming the book down and catching a glimpse of your watch in the process. You groaned, standing up and packing up your items. Seunghyun watched you with an amused look on his face and you glared at him.

“Were you just going to stand there all day or actually tell me we needed to go? We’re going to be late now.” Seunghyun shrugged at your words. Of course he didn’t care if he was late.

“More fun this way, isn’t it?” He smirked.

“I hate you.” You grabbed his arm, yanking him out of the room.

“Okay, okay, you can let go!” Seunghyun cried as he ran after you.

You let go of his arm, shooting him a glare as he adjusted his jacket. The two of you stood awkwardly next to each other as you waited for the elevator to come. He had an outfit fitting and if he was late then everyone would be late and you’d never hear the end of it - or go home at a decent time. Clearly feeling bad for messing with you, Seunghyun ushered you to get on the elevator first and you leaned against the wall as the doors closed.

You quickly typed a text in your phone alerting your team you were on your way when the elevator came to a halt. You looked over at Seunghyun who gulped, and you sucked in a breath. The elevator was stuck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You tried to hide the panic in your voice.

Seunghyun turned to look at you, remembering that you had a fear of tight spaces, specifically elevators and his face softened. As much as he loved to give you shit, now wasn’t the time. Besides, he was kind of crazy about you and if he needed to hold your hand through this, who was he to complain.

“Hey, it’s fine. Look, I'll press the call button and we’ll be out of here in no time.” He pressed the button, waiting a second only for the button to do nothing.

“Oh, great.”

“It probably just takes a minute.” He shrugged walking over to you, he hesitated a second before grabbing your arm, turning you to face him fully. “We’re going to get out of here, I promise.”

You nodded your head, reaching into your pocket for our phone, trying to stay unaware of just how close Seunghyun was to you. Your heart raced and you hoped that if he could hear it he’d assume it was the fear of being stuck in an elevator and not the affect he had on you for being so close. You clicked on your texts, sending a mass one out to alert everyone that Seunghyun - and yourself were stuck in the elevator. Security would have you out quicker if they knew he was in here with you.

“There. Everyone knows now.”

“I would’ve thought of something like that eventually “ Seunghyun pointed to your phone with a small smile on his lips and you let out a laugh.

“Sure.” You took a small reluctant step away from him and chewed on your bottom lip.

This was not gooey for many reasons. You couldn’t be alone in a large room with Seunghyun, let alone an elevator. It was too obvious that you had feelings for him when you were alone with him. You were going to have to play it cool so that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings. You placed a hand on your chest, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate.

Seunghyun watched you with amused curiosity. One of the many reasons he loved to tease you so much was how cute you were when you flustered. Even if this wasn’t the best of circumstances, he was glad to be alone with you.

“Want a distraction?” Your eyes widened, confused as to why he was being so nice and nodded your head at him. “I have feelings for you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, surely you hadn’t heard him right. Maybe he was joking. The way he was looking at you though? It didn’t seem like a joke.

“Very funny, Seunghyun.” You rolled your eyes.

Seunghyun closed the distance you’d been working so hard to keep and gently cupped your face. His eyes stayed locked on yours before darting to your mouth and then back to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission to kiss you. Your heart sped up and you nodded your head. His lips were on yours in an instant.

Your arms ran up his chest, gripping his shirt and pulled him in closer, you kissed him back with such passion, all your feelings for him pouring into the kiss. You’d waited for this for so long and you could hardly believe he felt the same way. Seunghyun pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting yours.

“I wouldn’t joke about this. Not with you.” You nodded your head, your eyes closing as you caught your breath.

“I have feelings for you too.” The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were back on yours.

His arms wrapped around you tightly pulling you closer as your arms moved from his chest to his shoulders. You pushed his jacket down off and he shrugged his arms out of the sleeves, his mouth breaking the kiss to trail open mouth kisses down your neck. God, this was perfect. Just as his lips met your collarbone, the elevator began moving again.

“Fuck.” Seunghyun cursed pulling away from you and reaching down for his jacket. As he shrugged it back on you fixed your top and let out a sigh.

“You guys ok?” Jiyong appeared as the elevator doors opened and you nodded your head at him.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re good.” Seunghyun nodded.

Jiyong raised a brow, looking between the two of you a knowing smile on his lips. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened in that elevator, it was just unfortunate that the guy who knew Seunghyun the best was the one who’d met you there.

“I knew it!”

“Shut up Jiyong.” You folded your arms as you made your way off the elevator.

“Yeah, shut up, Jiyong.” Seunghyun winked, rushing to catch up to you. “You got a minute?” You nodded your head.

Seunghyun took your hand, laced your fingers together and led you down the hall. Popping his head into the first doorway he came across to check if it was empty and let you inside, shutting the door behind you. You turned to face him, startled by how close he was still standing next to you. You figured his confession had just been the elevator talking.

“I meant what I said in there. I think I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time now.” He hesitated for a second before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles across your skin.

Your heart rate picked back up at the closeness of him and you wondered if he’d always have this affect on you. You didn’t mind it though, and you leaned into his touch. This was much softer than the rush of emotions that had overcome you on the elevator. Almost as if all the confidence you’d both had early was gone.

“I meant it too.”

Seunghyun let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Hearing that you felt the same way about him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“Let me take you out later? We can make this official, figure out how and when we want to tell the guys? For now, we play it cool and get you to that appointment.”

You nodded and he let you go, following you out of the room. He had the rest of the night to show you just how much you meant to him.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

#choi seunghyun x reader #t.o.p. x reader #bigbang x reader #choi seunghyun #t.o.p.#my fics #divider by cafekitsune #iy #choi seung hyun x reader #top x reader

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klemen-tine · 11 months ago

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Blowing Raspberries Part 2

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Finally the 2nd part is out! A bit short but I genuinely felt there wasn't much needed.

Part 1

TW: Child Neglect and just Yandere themes

Living full time with the Waynes was different. It shouldn’t be, because he’s lived here before. Even if it wasn’t permanent, he still knew the ins and outs of the manor and the daily lives of each member of this family.

He watched the television numbly, feeling Dick’s fingers carding through his hair and twisting and twirling each lock. The difference was the Wayne family. Underneath the smiles and gentle gestures, Y/N could see the underlying desires and wants in each movement. A desire that Y/N has seen art collectors view paintings that are not in their collection. The want and need to have it with them at all times.

Y/N could almost see it. In their eyes, he was no longer the brother that came and went, but now a piece of the collection that they had bought from the original collector.

‘I’m being dramatic.’ Y/N thought, focusing back on the movie and trying to ease his fears about everything. Just because they bought the company,which he was still better about, does not mean they own him. They would never do that to him.

He also believed that about them buying the company.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick asked, peering down at his older brother who was looking dazed. Y/N smiled, “Just thinking.”

“About what? Maybe I can help.” Y/N smiled and Dick, and when Dick smiled back, there was absolutely no way that Dick could do that to him.

“About this situation.” Dick looked confused momentarily, “What situation?” Y/N blinked in shock, digesting the words before slowly sitting up so he could face his brother, “This situation. Me being here indefinitely now, the family company is no longer mine…”

Dick cocked his head to the side, “There’s nothing to think about though.” Y/N’s smile was tense as he processed what Dick said, “Yes. Yes, there is Dick.” Blue eyes continued to stare at him in confusion, “Like what?”

“...Seriously?” Y/N sat up, and for a minute, he felt Dick’s hands tighten in his hair before they let go. Dick furrowed his brow before realization crashed into him, “Oh! You mean living here!” Before Y/N could say anything, Dick leaned against Y/N’s shoulder, “What’s there to think about? The only difference is that you are now living here 24/7.”

Y/N chuckled, “Just because you guys bought the company doesn’t mean I live here.” Dick’s gaze turned cold before he began pouting, and Y/N had wondered if he momentarily hallucinated it. Dick let out a loud groan, “But you can’t leave! Y/N, what on earth are we going to do?” Y/N laughed, “The same you have always done, Dickie. Besides, for what it is worth, I’ll be here for a few more days.” Dick smiled up at him, “You better be. Dropping contact like that.” There was something dark in his voice that Y/N chalked up to him still being upset.

Y/N continued to chuckle, his attention now returning back to the t.v. They watched it together for hours, browsing through different channels and watching different shows. It was just like when they were younger, Dick leaning against Y/N who flicked through the channels. Only now, there was an arm strategically looped with Y/N’s, and the man could feel the muscles underneath Dick’s skin that although weren’t flexed, they were a little tense.

Almost like Dick was expecting Y/N to leave. It was kind of unsettling.

“Master Y/N, your father is on the phone.” Y/N looked up at Alfred with a confused look, “Okay, thank you Alfie.” Dick’s grip tightened momentarily before he released his hold and let Y/N get up from the couch. Alfred passed the phone to Y/N, and he had a moment of confusion as to why his father called the Wayne landline instead of Y/N’s phone

“Hello?”

‘Why the hell aren’t you picking up your phone?!’ Y/N pulled the phone away from the phone momentarily, letting his ears ring before placing the phone next to his other ear, “What are you talking about? You haven’t called.”

‘Do not lie to me Y/N! I have been calling you for days, and I expect an answer!’ Y/N’s face morphed into confusion as he pulled out his phone and looked at his notifications, “Father, I am seeing no calls from you.” Y/N flicked through their messages, phone logs, even voicemail but there was nothing.

He heard his father sigh irritably on the other side of the line, and Y/N fought back a shiver. Taking a deep breath, Y/N stilled his racing heart and continued the conversation, “Okay, since you have me on the phone, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

‘The bloody Waynes!’ There was no way Dick didn’t hear it, but a quick glance at the man and he was on his phone. Returning his attention to the call, Y/N’s father was still screeching and yelling about the family.

‘-and you! You probably helped them out with that!’

“Me?!”

‘Yes you! You don’t think I don’t know about you running to that manor whenever I am gone? Ridiculous! It is your fault the company was bought!’ Y/N felt heat rise to his cheeks and fire lit in his chest, “You were the one who signed the papers! How is it my fault?”

‘You idiot! Do you think I had a choice?! If it weren’t for you, that company would still be mine!’

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?” Before he could answer, another person joined in on the call, ‘Mr. L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure of you having called my manor phone?’

‘Mr.-Mr. Wayne.’

“Bruce?” He could hear the other hum, ‘Y/N, you can hop off. I need to talk to Mr. L/N.’ The heat in Y/N’s chest dimmed, and instead ice began to fill his veins, “Um, no it’s okay Bruce. I can talk to him–”

‘Y/N.’ There’s a way he said it, one that left no room for arguments, that had Y/N blinking in shock. His body frozen and eyes wide, he pressed the button without really thinking about it. It wasn’t Bruce who said his name, but Batman.

Y/N wanted to call back and tell Bruce off, but Alfred was quick to take the phone away and someone had grabbed his hand. He met the exhausted blue eyes of Tim, and worry eclipsed his feeling of irritation at the sight of those bags under his eyes.

“Oh my God, Tim! When was the last time you slept?” Y/N herded his younger brother to the couch where Dick was still sitting and gently plopped the teen between the two of them. Tim groaned, collapsing against Dick who wrapped his arms around his younger brother, “Wednesday.”

“It's Sunday!”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh.’” Y/N shook his head and did everything in his power to make Tim comfortable enough for him to get some sleep. Which wasn't hard. As soon as Y/N threw a blanket over his thin body, Tim had knocked out against Dick. Dick was content being a pillow for his younger brother, having his arm resting on Tim’s body as the other continued to sleep.

Y/N hummed, smiling at his younger brothers and placing his phone call with his father on pause.

++++

The strangeness of his current living situation wouldn’t come to light again until a few days later, when the bruises have turned yellow and the feeling of being restricted started feeling like a collar around the neck rather than iron bars. Y/Ns had tried, multiple times, to leave the manor. While he does see the manor as home, it doesn’t replace the other manor he grew up in.

“I’m not a captive, I can go and I am going home.” He stared into Damian’s blazing green eyes, the youngest Wayne being the one to stand in the way of Y/N and the door. Damian’s face in a scowl and his arms crossed, he glared at his oldest brother.

“You cannot.” His voice clipped and short, and Y/N wanted to roll his eyes, “Dami, why can’t I leave?”

“Because you belong here. Everything you need is here.”

“I understand that Dami, however the L/N Manor is also my home and I need to go back to it.” Damian shook his head, “No you don’t. This is your home.” It was like Y/N was talking to a parrot who kept repeating the same sentence over and over again. No matter the amount of reasoning or explanations given. He fought to bury his face in his hands, and instead he opted to suck on his cheek in irritation.

“You’re making it sound like if I leave, then I am not coming back.” Damian’s green eyes steeled and his nose scrunched in a way to fight off a pout. Y/N furrowed his brow, wondering where this tantrum was coming from. Damian was above tantrums, finding them childish and pathetic, however he wasn’t above pouting. Y/N had gotten used to Damian’s pouting faces, and even knew how to combat them.

However, this whole thing was new. Not once has Damian ever fought this hard for Y/N to stay.

“Damian, what is going on?” Y/N stared down at the boy, who looked like he had swallowed a lemon. He swiveled his head around when he heard footsteps approaching the foyer and sighed in relief that it was Alfred.

“Alfie, what on earth is going on?” The old butler raised an eyebrow, “Perhaps we should have this conversation over some tea.” It was said in a tone that Y/N knew not to argue with, and he gave Damian one last glance before following the older man into the dining room where a tea set was ready for them.

Y/N buried his head in his hands and groaned, “Alfie, what is going on in this household?” The near silent clink of a porcelain cup being placed in front of him had him reaching for the delicate handle. The butler sat next to Y/N, reaching for his own cup and taking a small inhale of the steam that was carrying the scent of oranges and chocolate, “They are being a bit difficult.”

“A bit?” Y/N let out a chuckle and stared at Alfred in shock, “Dick is acting like I don’t have a manor to go back to, Tim is being Tim, Jason pretends he can’t read on his own and wants me there when he does decides to pick a book from the library, and now Dami.” Y/N tapped the table with his fingernail, feeling the frustration digging into his skin, “Bruce is the worst of them. Asking a wall to change colors is easier than asking Bruce to be honest.”

Some part of Y/N was still bitter over Bruce acquiring the L/N family business, and he was trying desperately to understand it from that man’s perspective. Key word was ‘trying’ because he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Bruce knows how much that company means to Y/N, and how hard Y/N had worked for it.

Sure, Bruce says he can still manage it, but it means nothing if the company is not his. He’d have to answer to Bruce and Tim. Just thinking about it pisses him off so much.

Alfred nodded, “Oh trust me, I know. It seems they all inherited his stubbornness.” The manor’s residential grandfather figure understood each inhabitant perfectly, watching them grow up into the people they are today.

Y/N groaned, sipping the hot tea and sighing as the liquid warmed his throat and chest, “Like, is all of this a joke?” Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder, and Y/N could see the apology in his eyes. He sighed heavily and returned his attention forward, tracing a finger around the rim of the tea cup and staring into his own reflection.

It was all a joke. It had to be, right? “Y/N.” He looked up and Bruce was standing in the doorway. His expression relaxed, but Y/N has been around the man long enough to know that those tense shoulders are those prepared to give less than savory news. Alfred removed himself from the table, and Bruce took the seat next to Y/N.

“How have you been adjusting?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, “There’s no adjusting Bruce. Every one of you is making it seem like I am going to stay forever.” Bruce gave him a sad smile, and Y/N glared at the look, “What?”

“Y/N, your father sold the manor. There is no L/N estate anymore.” The floor feels as though it is opening up and about to swallow him whole. Y/N could feel his heart stop and the air leave his lungs like it was a punch. The world going blank and his eyes could only focus on the painting behind Bruce’s head.

The manor was sold? His home, and everything in there, gone? Just like that?

Faint memories of giggles and smiles filled his mind, his memory unable to conjure up the face of his mother but he remembers her laugh. Back when times were good and his father wasn’t an asshole. When he didn’t have to seek comfort in the arms of his neighbor and try and fill the hole in his chest with lost boys and girls that he sees as his siblings.

All of it was gone.

“-uca, I need you to breathe.” There’s a hand on his arm, the chair is no longer under him. Y/N can see blue eyes staring into his own as he began to realize that they were on the ground, sitting. Or, more like Y/N was sitting and Bruce is kneeling. His face pulled to the center of his face with worry, and Y/N is only now aware of how fast he is breathing.

His hand reached towards his chest and clutched the fabric of his shirt, trying desperately to find something to cling onto as the air continued to get pulled out of his lungs. He couldn’t feel his legs or his other arm to be exact, and the when he tried to voice that all that came out were gasps.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A nod.

“Good, I need you to find five things you can see. When you do, nod for me.” Easy, it was such as easy task but Y/N still found difficulty focusing his vision enough to see even at least three things. However, he finally found it and he nodded. Relief flooded over Bruce’s face, and he gave an encouraging smile, “Good. That’s amazing Y/N, now find four things you can hear.”

That is how they spent their next few minutes, Bruce counting down the five senses while Y/N slowly came to his. Once he could feel the floor beneath him and more movement in his limbs, he sagged forward and into Bruce’s arms.

“I need to call him. I need to call-” Bruce’ phone was already in his hands, and Y/N didn’t even question why it was Bruce’s phone and no his.

He dialed a number he had memorized by heart and held the device close to ear. The damn thing didn’t even ring, ‘I’m sorry. The number you have dialed has either been disconnected or no longer exists–’

A sob on his lips as the weight of it all began crashing on him. The family company gone, the manor, and now this. It was like the universe wanted to take everything that made him a L/N gone.

“Y/N, I am sorry. I don’t know why he did that…” Bruce consoled the son that was never his. Always within arms reach and always a mile away. Always a brush on the fingertips but never in their hands. Until now.

Finally, after so many years of waiting patiently for Y/N to see, here he is in his arms. Here is their strong oldest sibling crying in his father-figures arms because his real father wants nothing to do with him. It took some encouragement, but finally he was theirs.’

Bruce held him tight, his strong arms wrapped around those soldiers that carried too much, and blue eyes met green. Damian stood in front of the door and he watched the interaction take place. A nod to his son and the youngest was gone, without a doubt moving to go and tell the others of the news.

It took ten minutes to get Y/N off the floor and onto the sofa in the lounge room, where Jason and Dick were waiting for him. After passing him to their waiting arms and better worded promises, Bruce carefully peeled himself away from the Y/N and began making his way back to his study.

One thne doors were shut, he pulled out a phonme and began to a dial the most recent number. They picked up on the first ring and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile, “Mr. L/N, thank you for all you have done. Y/N is now in good hands.”

“...My son–”

“Will be happier. You have done your role, Mr. L/N.” He listened as the other seethed on the other side of the line, “Mr. Wayne–”

“Rememer your side of the contract Mr. L/N. No more contact with Y/N, and you get to keep all this money you earned from selling both the business and the manor. You can continue to live out your days in Cabo, with your other family.”

The line went silent, and when he head the shaky exhale, Bruce smiled victoriously, “Take care, Mr. L/N. For your sake, I hope we never speak again.” He hung up, and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile. Finally, after years of watching and waiting, it has finally all come togethe. The final link in the chain forY/N to remain here.

It was hard getting Mr.L/N addicted to Cabo, and evern harder to get him to find someone worth marrying and staring a family with. However, it all paid off. The business was his, and Y/N will still manage that, and the L/N Manor is now Bruce’s which he’s not too sure what he’ll do with.

Maybe a surprise gift for Y/N, but then again, that would mean Y/N would be leaving again.

“Hey Bruce, we’re gonna watch a movie soon to help Y/N feel better. Did you wanna join?” Tim’s voice was muffled through the doors, but Bruce heard them nonetheless. He smiled as whe opened the door, “Sure, its important we are there for him during these times.”

He’s finally with his real family. The family he should have been with from the start.

______________________________________________________

And Scene

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

@jaythes1mp

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anjeliquesworld · 3 months ago

Text

Thaddeus x Reader

Note:I'm really attached to this little scenario I wrote,I hope you'll like it as much as I do. Unfortunately I think this will be one of the last posts for a while🥲

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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

The air in the bedroom is soft, carrying the gentle scent of lavander candles blending with the freshly laundered sheets.The light of your lamp illuminates your room as you lie in bed, lost in thought, waiting for your lover to come home.

It's a lie to say that it's easy to be by Thaddeus's side. The harsh truth is that you live with the constant fear of losing him due to his "job." Danger awaits both of you at every corner, but this doesn't stop you from loving him.

Without warning, your door opens , and there he is—the center of your thoughts. A smile spreads across your face as you’re finally reunited.

However, he doesn't seem as cheerful as usual. Without saying a word, he climbs onto the bed, under the covers, and snuggles his face against your chest. For a few minutes, you don't say anything, simply caressing his back softly as the silence envelops you.

Thaddeus’s mind races, the chaos and blood he's spilled threatening to swallow him whole. A part of him tells him that he doesn't deserve this softness, that it's foolish to want something as fragile as peace.

Could he really ask for peace?

Could he trust that is okay to feel safe?

These questions gnaw at him.

Yet, another part of him clings to the warmth of your embrace, as though it's the only thing keeping him tethered to something real.

"What's wrong?" you ask quietly.

Thaddeus murmurs something you can't quite make out before lifting his chin. "I'm exhausted..." he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He pauses for a moment before continuing, "I'm tired of constantly fighting to hold onto my power."

His hand hovers near your arm for a moment before he finally lets it rest, his fingers gently brushing your skin, as if testing whether he can allow himself this kind of closeness without it breaking him.

"You know... you're the only thing that comforts me. I feel safe when I'm with you, little bunny."

Thaddeus gazes into your eyes, a glimmer of affection reflecting in his own. Slowly, he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers,

"You have no idea how much I crave your comfort, how it's the only thing that can soothe the chaos within me..."

Your heart races with affection, butterflies in your stomach. It's really rare to see Thaddeus this vulnerable, especially now that he is sharing his emotions with you. Letting people into his heart has always been difficult for him, not to mention expressing his feelings... that's why you treasure these rare moments.

As you hold him, his fingers tighten on the fabric of your shirt, as if afraid that if he lets go, the fragile peace between you will break, just like everything else always has.

Thaddeus looks up once more, his eyes wandering around as if trying to find the right words. "Little bunny... can you promise me something?"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, nodding your head. "Yes... of course," you answer, waiting for his request.

His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He never learned how to trust promises; he's calculating and cold, just as he expects others to betray him, to leave him. Like everyone always has.

But with you, it was different. He wanted to be loved, to be cared for, to believe in this sweet lie.

He's deeply devoted to you. He can't bear the thought of you leaving his side.

"Don't leave me. Ever. Please."

He whispers, as if pronouncing forbidden words, a secret meant to be kept between the two of you. Thaddeus looks at you with pleading eyes, a soft blush tinting his face.

Unexpectedly, a tear slips down Thaddeus's cheek. Your heart tightens. You can see how meaningful this promise is to him, the weight of his fears, how fragile he feels in this moment.

You gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a tear. "I won't leave you, Thaddeus. Not ever."

Thaddeus buries his face in the nape of your neck. "Don't cry, Thaddeus. I'm not letting you go," you reassure him. "I love you too much to leave you." Your voice, sweet and calming, soothes

Thaddeus, his muscles relaxing as you play with his hair, hugging him close to your chest.

Little by little, Thaddeus feels his mind free of any negative thoughts as you whisper sweet nothings to him.

"Sleep peacefully. I’ll be right here when you wake."your fingers gently tracing his features admiring his profile.

You can feel his breath slowly becoming heavy—he is slowly falling asleep.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, whispering, "Sleep well, pretty boy,"And with that, you too surrender to the quiet embrace of sleep, the promise of your unconditional love holding you both in the stillness of the night.

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pineconepie · 2 months ago

Note

How would Vincent(or any other ocs you'd like) react to a reader who's nervous around/scared of him? Maybe they refuse to speak or hide from them?

Octavian would be positively heartbroken. He'd try coaxing you out of your hiding spot with promises of anything you want (other than freedom).

He'd sit in the same room he knows you're in and if tempting you with foods or items don't work, he'll just calmly speak to you feel safe enough to talk to him. He'd be very patient.

"It's okay, sweetheart... I know you're scared, but its just Papa! I love you so very much, it hurts to know you think I'd hurt you. But that's okay... I'll wait for you to come around. We have an eternity, after all."

Vincent would find it cute at first. "Aww, are you getting shy, pumpkin? Only babies are shy. Its okay, I'd never harm a hair on your precious head!"

If it continues on for longer than expected, he'd grow more frustrated. You'd lose privileges (screentime, dessert, toys), and he'd be almost pleading you to tell him what to do to prove he just wants to be your dad, that he'd never dream of hurting you.

"How long are you gonna continue this?! I've done so much for you, and you're still scared of me?! Ungrateful little-- oh no. Nonono, baby, don't cry, I didn't mean it, shh... please let me hold you. Dad's sorry."

Indigo is confused. Look around you, do you really think he'd ever hurt you?? :( maybe its a human thing, maybe he's not being clear enough with his intentions. He blames himself for that. Maybe he needs to use actions rather than words to get the message through.

So he doubles down on his treatment of you. He'll swaddle you tightly like an actual baby, make sure all food he gives you is turned into mush to resemble baby food, and he'll refrain from using big words to you, but rather noises from his own species that are mostly just coos and clicks.

"Shhhh... no more of this hiding, little one. You've lived a life of such stress and constant fear... no more... I'll make sure of that."

Magnus is mildly annoyed, but not shocked. After all, humans are such anxious creatures sometimes, even if he doesn't know much about them. He doesn't like you acting fearful of him regardless, and each time he catches you hiding, he wordlessly drags you back to the nest and flies off again.

He's similar to Indigo in the sense he will double down on his treatment, only to get the message across further. He'll make sure you're constantly by his side whenever he isn't out, carrying you around, reminding you that he is your father and protector. Hurting you would be just silly, wouldn't it?

"I'd kill all the creatures in the world if it meant you were safe, and you want to act scared of me? If I wanted to hurt you, would I have gone through all this effort to keep you warm, protected, and fed? I'm hurt by your logic."

#answered ask #parental yandere #yippee i gave them colors #not sure if i'll stick with this but i wanted to do something different haha #forced agere #forced age regression #octavian oc #vincent oc #indigo oc #magnus oc #yandere age regression

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 4 months ago

Note

hey love

I didn’t exactly know if ur requests are open, so if not then please just ignore this <33

I need comfort so bad, but I already read so much fics and find find new ones lmao.and don’t let me start with ur writing, everything u write especially angst is so good🥹❤️

so I have a requesttt:

Fem reader x Minho

where she has had depression before, but a he seemed to be getting better, like she talked more again, she ate better, she just seemed happier. But then all of a sudden it gets worse. Ofc min notices, but when he’s around she always tries to act happy and stuff. But one day he gets home sooner than expected and finds her sobbing and breaking down in the bathroom (lmao pls if ur confused, for some reason I always cry in the bathroom lol) and yea, I’m letting u decide how it goes then.

make it really angsty but with loooots of comfort too.

don’t stress with writing it, and if you don’t want to write it that’s totally okay❤️

take care of yourself, and have a great day/night. <3333

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Minho was meticulous. He noticed the tiniest details, the way your favorite mug shifted slightly to the back of the cabinet when you weren't feeling like tea, or how your laughter sounded softer, like it took more effort to push past your lips. And lately, he’d been noticing things he didn’t want to see- the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the shadows under your eyes that your concealer couldn’t quite hide, the way your smiles didn’t quite reach those same eyes anymore.

But you always brushed him off whenever he asked.

“I’m fine, Min,” you’d say, your voice bright but fragile. “Just tired. Work’s been a lot.” And you’d give him that reassuring grin, the one you’d perfected, the one you thought could fool him.

He’d let it go, though he hated himself for it, because he didn’t want to push you too hard.

Although he feels that maybe he should have pushed you harder to seek help, before it got worse.

Today was supposed to be no different. Minho had a packed schedule with rehearsals and meetings, so you were confident you’d have the day to yourself. Alone, you didn’t have to wear the mask. Alone, you could let the weight crush you, let the tears flow freely.

It had been a long time since you felt weightless. Not the weightlessness that people romanticized, no. They simplest type of weightlessness. Like you could draw in a breath without fear of suffocation. Like you could close your eyes with the excitement of opening them the next day. The type of weightlessness where you could simply live.

It started small: an ache in your chest that grew and grew until it felt like a gaping hole. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a burden you must be with your depression; how your progress had crumbled, leaving you worse off than before. The spiral was quick and suffocating. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to your chest, sobbing into your hands. The cold tile pressed against your legs, grounding you slightly, but not enough to stop the flood of thoughts.

You didn’t hear the door unlock. You didn’t hear Minho’s footsteps. The first thing you registered was his voice, soft and hesitant.

“Y/N-ah?”

You froze. Panic set in as you frantically wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself.

“Ah. Minho? What are you doing home so early?” you called out, voice strained. You continued to wipe your eyes, hoping that you could buy yourself enough time to look presentable. "Sorry I'm in the middle of-"

He didn’t wait to hear your response. Instead, the bathroom door creaked open. His expression when he saw you broke something inside of you.

His sharp eyes, usually filled with teasing or affection, were wide with worry. He crouched down in front of you without a word, his hands hovering near yours as if asking permission to touch you.

“Jagiya,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?”

Your chest tightened, and fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. “You’re so busy, and I didn’t want to-”

“Stop,” he cut you off gently but firmly. He reached out, his hands cradling your tear-streaked face. “Stop thinking like that. You could never be a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never.”

The tenderness in his voice unraveled you completely. You broke down again, and this time, Minho was there to catch you. He pulled you into his arms, his grip steady and unwavering. You found yourself curling into his lap as he leaned against the toilet.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here. You can cry.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. He rocked you gently, humming a soft tune, his hands stroking your back in soothing patterns. He didn’t rush you, didn’t tell you to calm down. He just let you feel.

When your cries finally subsided, leaving you exhausted and shaky, Minho pulled back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushed away the lingering tears on your cheeks.

“I thought I was getting better,” you confessed in a broken whisper. “I thought I was okay, but now it’s worse, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face again. “It’s not about fixing it,” he said. “It’s about taking it one day at a time. Some days will be harder than others, but you don’t have to face them alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Because you're not broken Y/N. You just need a little guidance. Thats all.”

You nodded, though doubt still lingered in the corners of your mind. “But what if I-”

“No,” he interrupted. “No ‘what ifs.’ We’ll deal with whatever comes, together. Promise me you’ll let me in next time. I need you to let me help you.” He blinked at you, his mouth in a straight line. "Okay? Because I love you."

The sincerity in his voice broke through the wall you’d built around yourself. You nodded again, this time with a small spark of hope.

“I promise,” you whispered.

Minho smiled, a rare, soft smile that was just for you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“Good,” he said. “Now, let’s get you out of here, okay? The bathroom floor isn’t exactly the coziest spot.”

You let out a watery laugh, and he helped you to your feet, keeping an arm around you for support. He guided you to the couch, where he wrapped you in a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of tea and some of your favorite snacks.

“Eat,” he said, sitting beside you and pulling you close, to where you two were almost molded together. “And then we’ll figure out what’s next.”

For the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter, even if it was just temporary. With Minho by your side, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could get through this.

As the night went on, Minho stayed close. He didn’t just hover; he engaged you, talking about anything and everything- his latest dance routines, funny stories from practice, even the drama among the cats at home. The warmth in his presence was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected.

When it was time for bed, Minho tucked you in and slid in beside you. He didn’t say much, just held you close, his arms protective and comforting as he cradled you from behind. Before sleep claimed you, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. No matter how hard it gets, I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt safe. Truly safe. And as you drifted off, wrapped in his embrace, you dared to believe that things could get better.

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