#like that's not how i pictured her voice in my head

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter six | formula one imagine

chapter six: fireproof

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

testing is finally here and after the car launch, y/n is not looking forward to the mercedes garage

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

the day and a half after the car launch before max was called into the factory by red bull was a slice of peace y/n had longed for for three years. but also one she couldn’t help think would be the last bit of peace she would be afforded this season.

the pair woke up the morning after the launch, bundled up together and hair sticking up in every direction.

“good morning” y/n said, words smothered by max’s chest. the dutchman grumbled to himself as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter.

“max, your phone won’t stop vibrating - please tell whoever it is to fuck off”

max groaned, flipped over and grabbed his phone. with his eyes shut, max jammed a couple buttons and suddenly the gravely voice of helmut marko rung out.

“max! where are you? the team have just informed me that you left early and are not at the hotel?”

the dutchman finally opened his eyes. he pulled y/n back into his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“helmut, it’s too early for this many questions.”

“i asked you one, very straight forward question, max.”

“i’ll be at the factory tomorrow, don’t worry.”

helmut sighed down the phone, “wherever you are, make sure you’re not late and not spotted doing anything untoward.”

“me? untoward? helmut, i didn’t know you thought so low of me.”

“the only reason i believe you is because you’re on your best behaviour with y/n back, maybe we should add her to our payroll as well.”

y/n couldn’t stop herself before she burst out laughing. she smacked a hand over her mouth but it was too late. helmut hummed.

“i see. good morning miss y/ln. make sure he’s in top condition for tomorrow.”

“will do, helmut.”

max hung up as soon as he could and threw his phone down the bed. he smiles down at y/n, “that’s not exactly how i pictured my first morning in bed with you.”

“so you’ve pictured this?” y/n questions, raising an eyebrow.

“no? yes? maybe? i definitely have but i don’t want to creep you out so what do you want to hear?”

y/n laughs as he buries his head in the pillow, whining in embarrassment.

“maxy…” she sings and pokes his back.

“don’t look at me! i’m a freak!” max yells, muffled in the pillow.

“but you’re a freak for me?”

“isn’t it obvious?”

y/n finally gets max to lessen his grip on the pillow and look back up at her. there’s a dusting of pink on his face and a concerned look in his eye.

“don’t worry, i like it. as long as you’re only a freak for me.”

max ducked his head again, “as happy as i am to hear that, can we refrain from saying it like that? i was proud i managed to wake up without morning wood and you’re really testing that resolve right now.”

y/n’s laugh reverberated around the room. without the needy meows of brando, the pair could stay snuggled in the bed for much longer than usual.

“max?” y/n asked, the dutchman had rearranged them so that he could be the little spoon and had his head resting on her chest, “please don’t be sorry for your feelings. they don’t make me uncomfortable and unlike others you didn’t just assume i reciprocated. i like what we have and i want to see where it could go, but i want to take it slow. i don’t want people butting in and adding their two pence. i just want you - and our furry babies.”

y/n could see the smile breaking out on max’s face before he even lifted his head from her chest.

“i said i just want to exist with you,” max said, “that will never, ever change.”

the dutchman’s eyes flicked down to her lips and the blush returned when he realised he wasn’t too subtle about it. y/n gives him a small nod and max leans in.

“can i?”

“please,” y/n whispered as max’s lips connected with hers. it was a small peck, just a press of lips, but it was enough. both pulled back and smiled, happy to breathe the same air for a while. y/n’s hand wrapped around his nape and pulled him in for another one. this kiss lasted longer, the pair pouring their years of pining into it, communicating something words could not describe.

for a moment y/n wished that she hadn’t returned to formula one. she wished that this would be her life. happy in her coop in west london with her and max’s cats waiting for the dutchman to come home, far away from her past ghosts and the sport that nearly killed her.

“will you still find me attractive in mercedes kit?”

“that’s a stupid question. you’re the most beautiful person in the world. yes, i would prefer if it were my number and my colours, but i’ll live with it if it means seeing you at every race.”

y/n giggled, the dutchman pressed another kiss to her lips because he could.

“i know you’ll be rooting for kimi this season, but i’ll win every race for you. even if the red bull is a shit box, i’ll fight everyone to bring that trophy home to you.”

“my singular monza trophy is a little lonely,” y/n said, “but your wins are yours, not anyone else’s”

y/n pushed back the duvet and started to get out of bed, much to the chagrin of max. despite his attempted puppy-dog eyes, y/n shuffled into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen.

“find something good to watch, i’ll cook up one last cheat meal for you,” y/n’s voice called from the hallway. max stayed led in the bed, a dumb smile on his face. it all felt a bit too good to be true and he hoped those in the paddock who had already caused some trouble would stay out of this.

despite another night of snuggles, max did not want to leave for milton keynes the next morning. y/n had made him a breakfast sandwich for the ride, but it did little to console the young dutchman even though the pair would be apart for just two days before they’d reunite in monaco and fly out to bahrain.

“i don’t wanna go… i want to stay here, you’re so much nicer to look at than christian!”

max was dragging his feet as he made his way to the hire car. he even tried to delay his departure by roping frank into a conversation but y/n had thought of that and rung down to reception in advance.

“it’s like you want me gone!” max cried as he put his bags in the car.

y/n laced her fingers in his, “you know i’ll miss you, but i don’t want to hear helmut’s voice any more than i have to, so you have to go. i’ll see you in monaco.”

max pulled her into one last kiss and reluctantly got into the car. y/n waved him off as he disappeared into the streets of london.

“finally!”

a yell boomed out in the garage, making y/n jump and stick her keys out as a makeshift weapon. frank stood at the entrance of the garage with a huge smile on his face. y/n calmed down when she saw the older man.

“frank! that scared the shit out of me! how long have you been there?”

“long enough.”

frank looked very smug. y/n made her way to the entrance, pointedly ignoring the older man.

“don’t be mad, i won’t tell anyone. i’m just glad you finally realised what was right in front of you.”

did everyone see it before her? it certainly seems that way.

“we’re taking it slow, so i’d appreciate if you kept this under your hat, frank.”

“of course, miss y/ln. would you like me to arrange for another parking spot for your flat?”

y/n tried to keep a stern look but she just couldn’t help it and smiled at the older man.

“that would be lovely, thank you.”

her apartment was quiet without max. she didn’t want to say she missed him just yet, but she had to busy herself with something before she fell down that hole. she needed to pack and get a flight back to monaco so she could spend a little more time with the cats before pre-season testing kicked off the season.

y/n’s phone buzzed with a message.

kimi: y/nnnnnnnn huge favour to ask! george can only give me a lift back to london before we go to bahrain so could i maybe get a lift to brackley???

y/n: if you buy my coffee at each stop you’ve got a deal.

kimi: yes, yes. i know your order - THANK YOU !

she better get to packing.

the italian stood on the side of the road, wrapped up in two coats, a hat and a scarf. ollie stood beside him in just a t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of flip flops, showing off his british aversion to the cold.

y/n pulled up beside the pair and winded down the window. “don’t you know hitchhikers are dangerous?”

kimi smiled and gave ollie a quick hug, popping the boot and shoving his small suitcase in. the italian slipped into the passenger seat and waved at ollie.

“why didn’t i have the idea to ask you to be my mentor?” ollie whined, “esteban is great and he has already given me a ton of lifts but you’re you!”

“snooze you lose” kimi said, poking out his tongue.

“esteban is great ollie, don’t believe all this shit about him being a bad teammate. he’s lovely and will be more than happy to help you out. however, we do need to go because i need to drop off this princess and get a flight to monaco. ciao!”

y/n stood on the gas and flew off down the street. from the corner of her eye, y/n could see kimi studying her. this wasn’t too strange for the italian, he often just stared at her, amazed that she had even agreed.

“i can feel you staring kimi, do you have a question?”

“why are you so happy?”

y/n laughed at the bluntness. the italian sputtered, “i mean i’m happy you’re happy, but i can’t help but be suspicious. i haven’t heard a peep from you since the car launch… and a little birdy told me you left with a certain someone.”

“it’s been two days, kimi!”

“you’re still smiling, you can’t stop and considering you smiled maybe twice in the first couple days i knew you - this means something!”

“fine! you caught me. i did go home with max. i’m not saying anymore than we’re happy and we’re taking it slow. i’m telling you because i believe for a good mentor relationship i should be completely open, as should you. also you’re like a quasi-son to me so there’s also that. do not tell anyone else, i’m serious. not even ollie.”

kimi whined at that, “but i tell ollie everything!”

“well not this. you saw how some of the people, including your teammate are with me and max, i do not want to give them any ammunition, okay?”

kimi hummed to himself, his brain whirring so loudly that even y/n could hear it over the music and the road. “speaking of those who WILL be without ammunition because i WILL keep my mouth zipped shut… how are we actually planning on tackling george this season?”

y/n was making the turn off of the motorway and towards brackley as she chuckled, “aside from physically tackling him at testing? i am joking, by the way. kimi, i don’t want you to worry about george anywhere but the track. he talks a big talk, but he’s very easy to frustrate when he’s not winning. don’t give him the rise he’ll want, okay?”

the tension rose in the car, it had all been fun and games up until this point, cocktails parties and car launches. but now it was getting real. y/n had the voice in the back of her head that worried that her off-track drama with the other drivers could impact kimi’s career.

“please stop worrying, y/n. i know what you’re thinking, but i am capable of handling it myself. i may only be eighteen but i’m not afraid of anyone.”

y/n pulled up outside of the mercedes factory and turned to kimi. she grabbed his hands, “promise me, kimi. promise me that if the drama with me gets too much, you will say something. i know it’s your dream to work with me, but make sure i do not interfere with your career.”

kimi scoffed, “them being afraid of you will never be your fault, you know-”

“it doesn’t matter if my fault or not, if their pettiness fucks with you, i won’t be able to forgive myself…”

just as they spoke, george pulled up beside them in his mercedes. the brit wasn’t alone in his car however. a brunette woman sat in the passenger seat, and much like george, her eyes narrowed at the sight of y/n.

“that’s carmen, george’s girlfriend. she doesn’t usually come to the factory with him?” kimi gasped, “maybe she’s here to stake her claim on george, as if you’d want him anyway…”

y/n laughed as kimi got out of the car. the italian grabbed his stuff from the boot and walked round to the window. y/n rolled it down and the two did their handshake.

“enjoy the prep, bunny, don’t make too much mess. see you in bahrain!”

the moment was cut short by someone clearing their throat. carmen had rolled down her window and was looking at kimi, less than impressed. the italian squeaked a quick goodbye and shuffled towards the entrance.

y/n tried not to make eye contact with carmen as she inputted the airport’s address into her gps. she was baffled by the news that george even had a girlfriend, not that she wanted kimi or the couple to know that. how long had they been together? did she know about y/n and about george’s weird feud with her? too many questions and not enough answers.

george and carmen made their way past y/n’s car and stopped just in front of the entrance, pointedly in y/n’s eye line. the two kissed, messily for people their age, and just to sum up her return so far, george kept eye contact with y/n the entire time, his hand wandering lower and lower on carmen.

2025 was the year of psychological warfare it seemed. y/n could work with that.

she sped out of the car park with new vigour. if psychological warfare was what george was ordering, y/n needed to know everything about everyone. she had stayed away from the drama surrounding formula one in her three years away from the sport, but it was time to go full gossip girl.

it’s crazy how much you can find in an hour in an airline bar about your former colleagues. y/n’s phone started ringing loudly, earning her some dirty looks in the lounge.

“maxy! did you know that george dated nyck’s sister?” y/n said, shovelling the free nuts in her mouth, “and that lando and pierre once liked the same girl in dubai?”

“why oh why are you telling me about this?” max said.

“because that prick wants psychological warfare, so i have to know everything!”

max hummed, not convinced. “am i like missing something?”

“i took kimi to brackley this morning and was treated to a lovely show from george and carmen. the weirdo kept eye contact with me the entire time! so if he wants to play it like that, i gotta know my enemies.”

“as weird as this all is, i’m glad to see you’re so into all of this, miss detective.”

y/n laughed, “i know i’m reading way too much about all of this, but i swear to god if he tries to fuck with kimi or you, i’ll play dirty if i have to. i mean i just don’t understand why he’s being such an asshole now about everything i supposedly did when he has a girlfriend - insecure much?”

max laughed down the line, they really were so much more alike than people would think. hearing her now, max wished she was back in the paddock for qatar and abu dhabi last year just to see what kind of revenge she could’ve thought up.

“anyway, maxy, are you still at the factory?”

“yeah, we’re just on a break, i’m outside getting some air and i didn’t know whether you were on the plane yet or not - you know you could’ve taken air max if you wanted to?”

y/n smiled, “i didn’t need your plane for a trip to monaco, silly! i’ll only be on the flight for a little while anyway and i’m only going because i’m having withdrawal symptoms from my babies!”

“why would you say this, now i want to see them!”

the boarding sign popped up, “ah! i gotta go maxy, i’ll text you when i’m back at yours - what time does the cat sitter go?”

“she will have left like an hour or so before you get back. stay safe, i -”

there was chatter in the background, “i gotta go, bye!”

max hung up quickly. y/n was left to her thoughts again and just how much life can change. this time three years ago she was making notes about the season coming, turns to watch and previous first lap incidents and now she’s compiling gossip on the grid’s personal lives? part of her wanted to be ashamed, but in the same vain, she knew that her adversaries hadn’t spared a moment for introspection.

max’s apartment in monaco was alight with the impatient meows from brando, sassy and jimmy. the cats yowled like they hadn’t been fed in days, although clarissa, the cat sitter, had sent max and y/n nearly hourly updates on them.

“oh my babies! momma missed you so much!” y/n said, abandoning her suitcase at the door and ushering the cats towards the couch. once she was sat, brando bullied his way onto her lap, his spot, and jimmy and sassy snuggled up beside her as closely as possible.

she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture of herself and the cats and sent it to max.

max: all my favourites in one place, you’re making listening to christian drone on even harder

y/n: you better keep listening, maxy, don’t want anyone else winning this season do you?

max: i do hate losing…

y/n smiled to herself, there was no lying to now, this place with the cats and max felt like home. the most at home y/n had felt for years.

“right, momma needs to shower and cook, babies!” brando did not look impressed but consoled himself by going back to grooming an equally unimpressed jimmy.

y/n rustled around max’s wardrobe trying to find a smaller towel for her hair. max wasn’t the most organised, especially with a wardrobe where he could just shut the door and forget the mess behind it. she finally got the towel loose, but with the last yank, a small book came flying out of the wardrobe.

the book was a small leather-bound book, clearly loved, bursting at the seams with use. y/n flicked open the book, scanning a couple of the pages. she could recognise the handwriting anywhere, was this max’s diary?

y/n flicked through a couple more of the pages before she landed on a page that boldly stated “fuck lando” in bold capitals. oh? the page was dated for a day in january 2020, just before she started her formula one career.

she knew this was a massive invasion of privacy, but max had never mentioned having a bust up with lando around that time - her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

i don’t know what lando’s problem is? i was on a discord call with him, george and alex this evening and he was in such a mood with me. it was all about y/n as usual with him, he’s being proper weird about her. of course we’ve already started training and discussing racing lines? we’re best friends. it’s almost like he knows i have feelings for her? but i know i haven’t been THAT obvious, at least not as bad as him and george. they think i don’t know, but they must think i’m dumb or blind (or both). he’s going to ruin his friendship with her if he’s not careful. i have loved y/n for as long as i can remember, but i don’t ever intend on making that her problem - why would she ever want to be with me? they assume because they’ve known her so long that they have this weird claim on her. i don’t know - i have a bad feeling about how this might all play out… i’ll just be there for y/n, she’s going to need it…

y/n slapped the book shut, feeling guilty about just how much she had read. max had liked her for that long? even when she was a jittery rookie with hormonal acne and way too much to say. and lando has always had this problem? there was never any chance of them being good teammates was there?

it feels like there’s a surprise around every corner since y/n reopened the pandora’s box that is formula one. how much was there left to reveal? to hurt her? can she handle what other secrets the sport has waiting for her?

but on the other side, if she had stayed in the shadows, y/n would’ve never known about max’s feelings and would never have the opportunity for what she feels right now.

y/n tucked the book back in the wardrobe and tried to wash the guilt off in the shower.

bahrain international circuit

testing was a boring affair for everyone that wasn’t in or working on the car. y/n was on her third coffee of the morning just out of pure boredom. kimi was in the car for the morning session and despite him paying her salary, toto did not seem like he’d make good conversation based on the frown on his face.

y/n saw sky making their way back down the pit lane and ducked back into the drivers’ rooms. because timing and fate loved y/n, george was leaving his just at the same moment.

it took a concerted effort not to roll her eyes as she forced out a quick good morning. george stopped in his tracks.

“good morning to you too?”

y/n gave him a nod and continued to kimi’s room, george grabbed her hand.

“are we going to have a problem the entire season? all of kimi’s career?”

“why would i have a problem, george? is there a reason i should have a problem?”

george huffed, “listen to me. we used to be so close… i wasn’t the one who crashed into you, why are you treating me like this?”

“george i’m not treating you like anything! 19 other drivers didn’t hear from me, you’re not special.”

y/n took a sip of her coffee, trying to school her heart rate, “you may have not crashed into me, but you hardly said much afterwards. you didn’t even come and visit me in the hospital? you didn’t post or say a single thing about me? you barely could bring yourself to say my name, so please spare me the lecture.”

george opened his mouth to respond but stopped, he tried to make eye contact with y/n but she avoided it.

“i didn’t think you wanted to see anyone to do with formula one! and you’re you! you hate dumb shit like instagram dedications and all that stuff…”

“you and your little partner in crime seem to be baffled about how max was the one who slipped through the cracks and stayed in my life. well read between the lines, idiot! his dedication to me is still pinned on his account, my number is on his helmet and he made the effort after the crash! you did nothing and you still expect me to coddle you?”

george tried to interject, “no! i think you’ve said enough already, george. you say all of this shit about how i led you on, but now you’re bringing up old drama when you’ve been in a relationship for years? so what’s the real reason? because so help me god, you fuck with kimi and i burn this whole place down.”

just behind george, y/n saw toto come into view. the austrian’s face told her that he had heard everything.

“well wasn’t that just great, thank you, you two. next time you have a domestic at track, please lower your voice, the entire garage now knows your business.”

“toto, i can assure you i will be nothing less than professional this season. winning with mercedes is my top priority, y/n will learn her place in this garage.”

even toto seemed taken aback by george’s words. y/n turned, her shoulder knocking george’s on the way past, “i think toto is well aware of who he hired and i know my place, just like kimi knows his… don’t crane your neck too much looking up at him on the podium.”

y/n shut the door to kimi’s driver room, and slid down to the floor. it was only the first day of testing and she’s exhausted. just outside the room she can hear george and toto still talking.

“i’m just saying i think it’s insane and honestly a little disrespectful that you hired her to begin with, toto.”

“i hired her because she was a talented driver and is willing to mentor kimi. i was not aware you two had a problem, and the fact that i’ve heard so much about it now without knowing what it actually is makes me think that the problem was in fact YOU. now calm down and get ready for your session.”

okay, maybe not all hope was lost. but y/n knew that this was just the start, the real racing had yet to begin and who knows how far george could take it, especially if the mercedes is competitive and especially if he finds out about her and max.

y/n popped open her laptop to keep track of kimi’s times on track but found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. by the time her impromptu nap had finished, kimi was making his way back into the garage, finishing the morning session. y/n made her way back into the garage to greet him as he made his way out of the car.

the session looked positive for the italian, but the pair were still anxious to see how george would perform, considering both were on the same program for the day. when kimi lifted his helmet, the two made eye contact, the italian’s eyes were so expressive that y/n could already hear the excited chatter.

“oh my god, y/n that was amazing! i know i’ve driven f1 cars before but knowing it’s actually mine for the season? wow!”

“well i’m glad you enjoyed it, let’s get some electrolytes in you before we sit down to analyse everything.”

the pair headed for the mercedes hospitality, with the other morning drivers doing the same throughout the paddock. during y/n’s nap she had missed the only real incident of the day, but a certain spaniard was about to make sure she knew.

“hey! antonelli!”

kimi’s head whipped around to see an angry carlos sainz charging towards him. the spaniard was clearly taking advantage of the lack of media outlets allowed at testing, getting in kimi’s face.

“you might be a rookie, but you’ll stay out of my way, got it? impede me like that again and we’ll see what happens!”

y/n pulled kimi behind her and jabbed her finger at carlos’ chest. “you self-important asshole, he didn’t impede you it’s testing. i know you’re at williams this season, so you’re going to have to invent a storyline for yourself, but trust me, this is not the one you want.”

“stay out of this y/ln, why don’t you stick to hopping into whoever’s winning’s bed, huh?”

y/n let out a sarcastic laugh, not caring about the small crowd forming around them. “your glory days, well whatever you call being stuck in charles’ shadow, playing politics with daddy to get given wins at ferrari only to be cast aside when you got a bit too big for your boots, are over. don’t be the bitter old bitch that makes rookies’ lives hell? oh wait, you’ve always been that way haven’t you?”

“you are a perpetual victim, y/n. that was years ago, get over it.”

“and yet you still act the exact same way. telling, really.”

carlos stayed quiet this time and y/n took that as the chance to guide kimi to hospitality. with their backs turned, “she won’t always be there for you, rookie! she can’t sleep with all of the stewards and she won’t be in the office to bat her eyelashes. so watch your back.”

y/n kept walking despite kimi tugging on her arm, wanting to retaliate. “stop. let him make a fool of himself.”

despite y/n trying to de-escalate the situation, max was less willing to do so. the dutchman had only heard a fraction but that was enough to rear the head of mad max.

“you think you’re so cute with this shit don’t you, sainz,” max said, looming over the spaniard, “you people never change, it’s pathetic.”

“the only thing that’s pathetic here is you, being her lap dog - and we’re meant to be scared of you? all we gotta do is flash an ankle or raise a hand and you’ll be eating out of our palm.”

max’s hands were shaking by his side and it took everything inside of him not to lunge at carlos. y/n’s grip on kimi tightened when jos was brought up, the crowd around them tensing as well.

“i don’t know what she does for you, but you surely can’t still be falling for it all these years later. i remember at toro rosso when you’d wake up the whole camp screaming in your motorhome and you’d call her crying. a four-time world champion and you still go crawling back to her.”

“she’s worth more than you could ever wish to be. i don’t know what propaganda your dad or lando has been feeding you, but you’re a grown man, you’re too old to be falling for it. now leave her and kimi alone. i’d threaten you, but it’s unlikely that williams will be anywhere near me this season.”

max gave one last look to y/n before running back towards the red bull garage. the crowd that had formed chattered amongst themselves and started to disperse. carlos looked enraged but backed off, not without one final glare towards the italian.

“i didn’t know formula one was just this dramatic,” kimi said, “i need to work on my insults!”

y/n laughed, but a voice from behind her stopped her dead in her tracks.

“always the centre of drama, aren’t you y/n? always looking for trouble.”

zak brown.

fin.

note: wow this took me so long to write and i kinda hate it! i am in such a rut rn idk what to do ? but i hope you guys enjoyed it anyway!

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[mggslover]

Reflections

In which Spencer sees himself in a suspect, making him willing to do anything to protect her. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: crime x angst? x fluff? Content warnings: post prisoner!spencer (but no spoilers bc i'm still on s11 lol, so sorry for inaccuracies), one time mention of suicide and rape (no details), fade to black smut so suggestive content Word count: 3,8k A/n: my own entry for #lovers1kevent ! bit different from what i usually write. didn't exactly turn out like how i had envisioned it, but i'm still very curious to hear your thoughts!

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.” The sound of a clock striking midnight made you jump in your seat, the plastic stool screeching loudly against the cold, concrete floor. The interrogation room was filled with nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the pounding of your heartbeat. Everything in this room felt eerie: a harsh light shone down on you, irritating your eyes, and there was no escaping your reflection in the two-way mirror in front of you. You observed yourself through the glass, and to put it simply, you looked awful. The dress you were wearing was crumpled as it hung loosely on your frame, the dark circles under your eyes were noticeable from a distance, and your eyes themselves expressed no spark. They looked dimmed, with no emotion behind the colored irises. Though, that had been so for a while now.

The creak of the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, feeling disappointment when the same agent as before walked in. He wasn’t hard on the eyes: dark skin, rolled-up sleeves that showed his muscular forearms, a neatly trimmed goatee covering his sharp jaw, and eyes that looked just as cutting as they darted over you. Maybe, in another life, you would’ve considered dating him. In a life where he didn’t suspect you of killing three men.

He stayed quiet as he made his way over to you, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. He placed a folder in front of him, shoving it toward you. “Still not going to talk?”

You cleared your throat. Nevertheless, the words came out hoarse. “I have nothing to say.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance before crossing his arms. “Do I need to remind you of your rights? You can contact a lawyer, or we can get you one.”

“I also have the right to remain silent.”

A small huff escaped his lips, and you noticed the way he clenched his fingers, as though trying to hold himself back from making a comment he’d regret.

His eyes landed back on you, glaring. “A girl like you won’t survive in prison.”

“Well, then it’s good that I’m not going to prison,” you snapped back with a small smile. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You didn’t do anything wrong, yet here you were.

“I’d lose the attitude if I were you because it’s not looking good.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he cut you off. “Open the folder.”

You inhaled deeply before obeying. You hated the way you couldn’t help the nerves from creeping in. Your hand trembled as you opened the folder. The picture that greeted you was one of three lifeless bodies slumped over each other in an empty alley. A bitter tang formed in the back of your throat, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to look back at the agent.

“Looks familiar?”

Your eyes flicked over the image again. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“The people. Do you recognize them?”

You nodded.

“I want a clear answer,” he said, his voice raised.

“Yes,” you replied, matching his tone. “We went to college together.”

There was no way you could forget them. Unfortunately. The idea that they were wiped off the face of earth gave you a strange sense of comfort. Maybe now you could find the peace you’d been looking for. The peace she was looking for.

The agent seemed relieved to have gotten an answer out of you. “And you met up with them again today. Is that right?” he queried, nodding toward the folder.

You got the hint and pulled the first picture off the pile, revealing another underneath it. It was a selfie taken by two women. You spotted yourself in the right corner by the bar, in conversation with the three men he was referring to. His gaze stayed focused on you, trying to see if you’d reveal any emotion.

“It was our college reunion. As you can see I wasn’t the only one there,” you explained.

“Multiple witnesses have told us you were the last person seen talking to them.”

You shrugged. “Is that something significant?”

“Not necessarily so,” he answered, sitting up straighter. “What is, is that you left through the emergency exit. And what makes it even more suspicious is that you left right after the victims got their drinks served.”

You gave him a blank look.

“The victims were poisoned.”

Ah.

You offered him a tight smile. “I think that’s something you need to bother the bartender about.”

“We checked him out already. The only person we can connect to this case is you.”

A silence followed. It truly didn’t seem like you’d be leaving anytime soon. You rubbed your hands down on the material of your dress, gathering courage.

“It’s an unfortunate coincidence. Like I told you, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t want anything to do with them,” you clarified, the disdain evident on your tongue.

The agent turned his head around, looking at the two-way mirror. The thought of other agents standing behind that wall, all analyzing you full of judgement, made your skin crawl. 

“Seems like you’re not too fond of the men.”

You scoffed, “No one is.”

“What about Natalie Fisher?” he wondered aloud. “She seemed close to you. We found multiple pictures dating back to high school.”

Like a gust of wind, the memories came back to you. How you found Natalie standing in front of your college dorm room, smiling brightly as she introduced herself as your roommate. You instantly hit it off: sharing the same humor, the same passions. Only a year younger than you, but a carbon copy. From that day on you were inseparable. 

It all came back to that one night — that one time you bailed on her, deciding studying for an upcoming exam was more important than joining her at a frat party. It was only when she called you awake in the middle of the night, her voice shaking as her words tripped over her tongue, telling you she didn’t know where she was and how she woke up in an empty alley, possibly drugged and with her clothes torn — that you knew you made the biggest mistake in your life.

You shook the thoughts away. Pursing your lips as you shrugged. “She was. I don’t know why you’re bringing her up.”

“Her report says she died two years ago from suicide. Or did you kill her as well?”

It felt like he’d knocked the breath out of you. You made a choking sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “You’re sick,” you spat in disbelief.

“I’m sick?” He chuckled sarcastically. “You’re the one who murdered those people.”

“I didn’t murder anyone!”

The sound of your yelling reverberated off the concrete walls, the echo scaring you. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back tears as you bit your tongue. There goes your attempt at staying calm. He was playing games with your mind. You knew this was all a trick — a way to get you to admit to the crimes he was naming. And it drove you crazy that it was having an effect.

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you muttered.

-`♡´-

Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as he looked through the glass. You’d been sitting there for three hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-six seconds, counting. He didn’t know what it was about you that made it impossible to look away. Hotch had told him to go home. Hotch was certain that they got the right unsub, and he assured him that you’d confess at some point. But he couldn’t get himself to move. To turn his head even. All he felt was a nagging guilt as he watched you being questioned by Morgan. It was a different experience to see an interrogation when he’s been in one himself. He now understood what it was like. How pressuring their questions can be, how the weight of a sentence is crushed on your shoulders, and how they keep pushing you to the point where you even start doubting your own truth. 

All he could think of when he saw you was innocence. A soft, radiant white light surrounded you. You were bright even against the harshness of the room. There was no rational way to explain how he felt, only that he sensed the deepest desire to keep you safe from everything that could hurt you.

“She’s working on my nerves,” Morgan exclaimed, tension visible in his shoulders as he stomped out of the interrogation room. 

“We can’t stop,” Hotch stated. “We haven’t gotten an answer out of her yet.”

Morgan let out a deep huff. “It’s clear that she did it.”

Spencer's focus was back on you. Since he’s been to prison he’s been more aligned with his feelings. His heart overpowering his mind at times. 

“She’s not our unsub,” Spencer spoke up, surprising even himself with the firmness of his voice.

Everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting for the genius revelation he always had. But the room stayed silent.

Hotch eyed him, “What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” Spencer replied, not caring to elaborate further. He nudged Derek aside and headed for the door. “I’ll take it from here.”

He pulled the heavy metal door open, at once met with your doe eyes as you faced him. For the first time tonight, you didn’t flinch when someone entered. 

Spencer had to swallow. His gaze momentarily dropped to the floor, feeling overwhelmed by how beautiful you looked up close. You seemed tired, cold, yet somehow angelic.

His eyes never left yours as he made his way over to you. You held his gaze, observing him with the same intensity as he was. He carried a calm, magnetic presence, which made you feel an unexplainable urge to get closer to him.

“Are you cold?” he eventually asked, his voice gentle and considerate.

You blinked at his question, clearly not expecting it. You remembered how you were only wearing a light dress, noticing the goosebumps that had formed on your bare legs. Inevitably, you nodded.

He surprised you again by taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders. The fabric felt heavy, enveloping you like a warm blanket.

“Thank you,” you silently mumbled, noticing a small dimple appear in his cheek.

He sat down in front of you, resting his arms on the table between you, as though compelled to get as close as possible. The moment felt intimate, your eyes locked on his tender brown ones, making the world fade around you. “I believe you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, a frown formed on your face as you realized he wasn’t about to say more. “What?”

“I believe you,” he repeated in the same composed manner. He leaned forward even further, and it was then that you noticed you had subconsciously mirrored his movement, drawn to him like a magnetic pull. 

“They suspect you, but I don’t.”

He didn’t need to rephrase his words for you to understand who he meant by them. You could almost feel the other agents’ glaring stares pressing down on you through the glass.

“Try to forget about them,” he reminded you, as if reading your thoughts. You didn’t look up to face him, instead your focus was on the proximity of your hands on the table, his finger just inches away from touching yours. Spencer noticed the look in your eyes, and moved his little finger just enough to brush against yours.

An electric shock coursed through you. Simultaneously, both of you shuddered, stunned as you saw the other wearing the same stupefied expression. Sure, it could’ve been a static shock, but something told you it was more than that. And by the look of the curly haired agent, he felt the same.

“Why don’t you?” you asked, returning to the subject. “Suspect me, I mean.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “Because I know what it’s like to be in a situation like you are.” He saw the confusion written on your face, continuing his explanation. “There’s something about being in a room like this — being treated like you’re guilty before you even speak — that makes you start questioning your own truth.” 

Questions flooded your mind, but you chose not to press further. You had someone who believed you, you weren’t going to ruin that opportunity by being too curious.

“So, what now?” your voice sounded more sure, hopeful even.

“Usually, we ask people if they’re willing to take a polygraph exam,” he explained. “It can also be referred to as a lie detector test, even though that term is often used incorrectly. A professional will ask a series of questions, and as you answer, the device will measure multiple psychological indicators which are associated with lying, like your blood pressure and pulse. I know it can sound scary, but in cases like these — when there’s no clear evidence — it might be the only thing keeping you from going to prison.”

His words hit you hard, though the gleam in his eyes remained soft. You inhaled deeply before nodding. “I’ll do it.”

-`♡´-

“She’s telling the truth.”

You hadn’t known pure relief until now. Your eyes closed, trying to stop the flood of emotions from flowing in when the pressure cuffs and sensors were being removed from your arms and hands. You didn’t know whether to cry or to cheer, but when you opened your eyes and saw Spencer — who had introduced himself as Dr. Reid, smiling at you, you were sure everything would turn out okay.

“Impossible,” the agent who questioned you earlier huffed under his breath.

The chief who had introduced himself as Aaron Hotchner walked up to you. “For now you’re free to go. However, this case isn’t closed yet. You’ll remain our primary suspect until we find more proof.”

The sharpness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. You kept quiet as he and the other agents left the room, leaving you alone with Dr. Reid.

He closed the distance between you two, standing near enough that he could see all the details on your face. He fought the urge to tuck the loose strings of hair behind your ear, to hold you and tell you that you were okay.

“You did really well,” he said with a soft smile. “Your heartbeat stayed on an average of 70 beats per minute, only going up to 86 once, which is still in the normal range.”

“Did you peek at the monitor?” you jokingly teased.

“I- uh, no. I just counted.” Spencer shyly admitted, earning a playful grin from you. You took his hand in yours, his palm slightly sweaty, as if he was nervous about the outcome too. Then you placed his hand on your chest, right where your heart was. “What about now? Higher than average?”

He swallowed, a blush creeping up his neck. “95 beats per minute.”

The tension between you was palpable, though his touch felt comforting. Your hand was placed over his, and you could both feel the way your heartbeat steadily decreased as you brushed your fingers soothingly over his.

“Can I drive you home?” Spencer offered.

You bit your lip in an effort to hide your grin, but then the corners of your mouth slightly dropped. “I don’t really have a place to stay.”

His brows lifted in surprise, but an empathetic twinkle appeared in his bambi eyes. “You could stay at my place.”

Spencer wasn’t sure why the words came out, but he meant them. He could practically hear the voices of his team telling him to not get involved with someone on a case, let alone a potential suspect. But it wasn’t like he was the first person to do so. And he wouldn’t waste the opportunity of getting closer to you. Maybe if he could get to know you better, if he could make you comfortable enough to open up to him, he could prove to everyone that you were innocent. Because deep down, he knew you were.

-`♡´-

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing, man?” Morgan called out, rushing after Spencer, who had just entered the bullpen to grab his satchel bag before heading out with you.

“Hotch told me I could go home,” he hastily replied, stuffing his papers into his bag.

“Yeah, two hours ago. Before you decided to flirt with a suspect,” he exclaimed in frustration.

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Spencer recounted under his breath.

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “Everyone saw what went on in that room, Reid,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I would’ve least expected this from someone like you.”

“Someone like me doesn’t exist anymore, Derek,” Spencer snapped, a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m not who I was before prison, and neither will I ever be that person again. However, I can help her from turning into someone like me. So, if you don’t mind, I am leaving now.” 

He left Morgan at a loss of words as he walked off. You were waiting on him; your posture stiffened as you wrapped his jacket closer around you. Gently, Spencer threaded his fingers through yours and guided you to the elevator.

Once inside, Spencer pressed the button to the ground floor, then leaned his head back to the wall, letting out a fatigued sigh.

“I am sorry for causing you trouble,” you apologized, nervously picking at the fabric of his jacket that hung loosely over your arms.

His gaze softened, and he shook his head before he reached out to hold your hand once more. It was ironic how he longed for your grounding touch. “You’re not causing me any trouble. I’m sorry for the way they’re treating you. It’s our job to be cautious, to not easily trust someone.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you trust me,” you stated, though it came out more as a question, waiting for confirmation.

His other hand lifted up to touch your cheek, and his heart warmed at how you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I do.”

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Can you prove it to me?”

He responded with a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup your face in his large palms. You rose to your tiptoes, leaning in until his sweet lips found yours.

-`♡´-

Spencer had expected to spend the ride home talking to you. Instead, you spent the entire ride trying to resist the urge to climb on top of each other. Once he tasted your lips, he couldn’t get enough, and neither could you.

Your giggle sounded through the dimly lit halls of his apartment complex as he dragged you up the stairs. 

“Hurry,” you impatiently chuckled as he struggled to find his keys in his bag. He joined your giddy laughter as you entered the apartment. The second he shut the door close, he gently pressed you against the wall, his lips finding yours again. You let out a satisfied hum, your fingers sliding into the soft curls of his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your bottom lip.

“Wait—one second,” he murmured.

“No,” you pouted, capturing his lips. 

He kissed you back—then again, and again—before finally pulling away. “I just need to put my gun away.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Just make it quick.”

He gave you a big grin and walked to the cupboard, where his safe was hidden behind his jackets and a row of spare shoes. It felt strange to have someone in his apartment. Strange to be smiling so brightly, to feel so much, after the emptiness prison has brought him. But strange didn’t mean bad. It felt new. And new could be good. You could be good.

His fingers pressed down on the familiar buttons: 62383. With a soft click, the lock opened; he took his gun from its holster on his pants and safely put it away.

When he turned back, he saw you leaning against the wall, a sweet expression on your face as you awaited him. He strode toward you, immediately pulling you in and kissing you fiercely.

Spencer was aware of his actions. Aware that he shouldn’t be doing what he was about to do with you. But as his hand made contact with the warm skin of your inner thighs, and as your sweet sounds filled the air, he chose to simply not care.

-`♡´-

The next morning you woke up with messy curls tingling against your face. You chuckled as Spencer lay asleep with his head resting on your chest. Your fingers ached with the urge to graze them through his hair, to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. Instead, you held your breath as you climbed from underneath him.

The golden sun shone brightly through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings. You tiptoed through the room, gathering the items of clothes one by one, until you were fully dressed. 

Wearing yesterday’s dress sent a shiver through your body, being reminded of the long hours spent in that bleak interrogation room. 

You mumbled a sorry, before opening his closet and fishing a T-shirt out of it, a blue one with a faded Caltech logo, barely visible. You ignored the thoughts forming in your head, the itch to want to know more about the man who was still sleeping soundlessly in the bed that you shared. 

Once you found yourself a suitable pair of pants, Spencer started groaning from the other side of the room. You turned around, catching his hand patting down the empty space beside him, as if in search of the heat of your body. It felt irresistible to not check up on him. You slowly made your way to his side of the bed, crouching down and lightly stroking his face. His eyes blinked open, and the way he smiled made your heart churn. 

“I need to go,” you softly whispered to him.

His smile faltered. “Where to?” He sat up straighter on the bed, but you gently pushed him back down.

“Will I see you again?” Spencer asked when you didn’t respond.

Your lips curled in a smile, “I’m sure you will.”

And sure you were, because as soon as you left the bedroom, you were headed to the cupboard, pushing aside the jackets that hung on the hooks, until your eyes landed on the shining steel safe. 

62383.

The lock sprung open, and in a swift motion you took the gun and hid it in the bottom of your purse. I will be seeing you again, Spencer. Just under different circumstances.

[undercvrfan444]

Shy!reader who wears a different uniform skirt in order to get Bully!Satoru’s attention and it works a little too well. He starts flipping up the back of her skirt when he walks past her to ruffle her feathers a bit. (he might have snuck a picture of two of what you looked like under that fabric.)

Bully!Satoru who continues to write you small notes and slip them in your bag but they’ve become nastier than before. Having things written on them like

“What a shame it would be for those pretty panties to be torn open with my cock stuffing your pussy to the brim.”

or

“Don’t you know prancing around in short skirts is just an invitation for me to do whatever I want to you?”

Bully!Satoru who continues tripping you when walking in the halls. This time though, it’s because he wants to press his hard erection into the plush feeling of your ass. He’ll lean down innocently so people don’t suspect him, “been thinkin’ of that gooey cunt all day bunny.”

Bully!Satoru who comes over occasionally to “help with homework” and always starts the session off with bruising the back of your throat so you can barely speak the next day.

This way he can purr nasty nothings into your ear and all you’re able to do is listen and take it.

Bully!Satoru who steals your lunch forcing you to come crying to him. “Beg me real nicely bunny, and i’ll give your lunch back.” But when you embarrass yourself by begging him kindly he gives you the box back to find it’s been eaten leaving you hungry and disappointed.

Bully!Satoru who is called out all the time for somehow finding a way to talk about you to his friends. Suguru teases you about it too when he can!

“So you’re the pretty little thing Satoru is hung up on?”

Two dark eyes rake over the little uniform that adorned your body. “He wasn’t lying about you.” And with that Suguru walked off, simply leaving you with a dumbfounded look.

Shy!Reader who stops Satoru in the hallway the next time you see him with an aggravated expression on your face. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you pushed a hard finger into the man’s chest. “What did you say about me to Suguru?”

Satoru’s shocked face pulls into a coy smile, eyes narrowing so he can lean into your space. “Why? I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”

“What did you say Satoru!”

Hearing his name on your lips sends shivers down his spine, loving how upset you were. His voice dropped lower, seeing how many people were turning heads to see where the commotion sourced from.

His lips graze the thin skin of your ear. “I told him how good your pussy feels around my dick. Told him about the way your face would scrunch up when you were about to c-“

A sharp *Slap!* echoed between you. Tears pour from your eyes at the embarrassment, angry at the misogynistic things Satoru said about you. It was hard to think of all the things you’ve done with Satoru knowing he must’ve told Suguru at some point. It felt invasive.

Bully!Satoru who felt like shit after you left. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as you hurried out of school, away from the staring eyes. He knew he fucked up bad when you refused to answer his texts over the next few days, leaving him either on read or delivered.

He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. Saturday finally rolled around after you missed two days of school. The two days that you were gone felt like hell to him, whispers about what might’ve happened to make you slap him caused a certain edge to stick around. Satoru made his way to your house, knocking softly on the front door hoping you would listen to what he had to say. He could hear your feet pad up to the door watching the knob turn softly.

“Satoru?”

“Hi bunny,” his words are sugary sweet. You’ve never seen such an apologetic expression on Satoru’s face and honestly it was shocking to see him so flustered.

Shy!Reader who lets the Satoru into your house, reluctant yet willing to hear what he has to say. Truthfully you miss the handsome boy more than you’d like to admit despite him embarrassing you.

Bully!Satoru who follows you up to your room, pulling you against his chest with an “ompf!” the second he heard your door close. He’d never tell anyone this, but seeing you so angry with him ate him alive. At first he thought it was cute! The little attitude you wore was adorable until it morphed into stomach-churning disappointment aimed towards Satoru.

“I’m so sorry bunny, I had no idea it would bother you so much that I said those things to Suguru about us. The last thing I want is for you to think all I want you for is some stupid shit, let me make it up to you.” Softly his fingers curl into the smooth fabric of your shirt attempting to squish you further into him.

Silence fills the room like a thick blanket. Your heart beat rapidly against Satoru’s own; thoughts running wild while his expensive cologne wafted in your senses.

“It’s okay ‘toru.” slivers off of your lips before you can think.

Bully!Satoru who spends the rest of his day with you. First going to watch whatever movie you want to, buying every snack he could possibly think of even if you didn’t eat it just because he can.

You wanted to walk in the park? done.

Go browse a book store? he bought everything you touched.

Tired of being social? Satoru walked you home as he listened to you talk passionately about the description of your new books.

Bully!Satoru who begs for forgiveness through pulling your panties to the side and pressing sloppy kisses to your pretty cunt. Respectful pecks turn into haughty thrusts of his tongue, pushing your sticky walls apart. His moans tickle your thighs fervently while you squeeze his shoulders attempting to ease the building pressure in your lower belly. Satoru was a man after all, and he knew the cherry on top to his apology would be eating your pussy until slick dripped down his face.

Shy!Reader whose head was so fuzzy from the multiple orgasms, you let Satoru guide you into bed as the sun set. Once he’d finally cleaned up there was no stopping the rain of smooth kisses on your face. “I love you, bunny.”

“I love you to ‘toru.”

[buttercupshands]

*looking at isat ss discord* my power of being silly got out of control

or how I tried understanding rpg maker basics by literally trying to do one (1) thing I really wanted to see ever since seeing Loop unused sprites lying on wiki months ago

the reason I mentioned isat ss discord was simply bc guys were the first people who saw me trying to draw close to pixel sprite face sprite for Loop to,,, do something at some point just to see how it works

and nope I'm not making this into anything, but I really like the fact that I managed to do this

[bussyyeukie]

Neon Lights and Blood Fights drabble

Fighter!simon x reader: Simon’s first time seeing you, and the first time he’s ever truly wanted something for himself.

Simon stood with his arms crossed, black jacket pulling at his muscles on his shoulders. Brows pinched together tightly, his lips downturned–although you couldn't see that part past the black baklava he was wearing, skull painted on the bottom half of it, hood pulled up over his head. Eyes blacked out by the dark smudging around them. Blending into the scene like a ghost despite his size.

Eyes scanning out over the crowd, air murky with smoke and the neon lights in the basement.

He couldn't seem to get away from the scent of mildew that filled the air. Groaning to himself about how he wanted to take his 5th smoke break of the hour just to get out of the thick air and men shouting.

A fight was going on in the makeshift ring in the middle of it all, Gaz repeatedly slamming his fist into some poor bloke's face till it was nearly mush. The crowd ate it up. Simon rolled his eyes as he swept his gaze around again. Everyone was behaving–or behaving for the event, no other fights breaking out, no one causing unnecessary problems.

His boots thudded against the ground as he walked over to the makeshift bar, looked pretty legit for being set up that afternoon, but Price knew good people for it.

It was packed with drunk men, shouting and spewing nonsense.

His eyes landed on a familiar face, who was practically slumped over the bar with a drink in hand, squinting at his phone that was turned up too bright. The blond man shoving his way through the crowd, and damn near slamming his arm down next to the man, leaning towards him.

“Yeah I mean,” the man hiccuped a bit, rubbing his mouth, trying to show the bartender something on his phone, “She’s so hot ya know, but god just a bitch–like she just wants me ta-to be there allll the tiimmmee. Then when I actually wanna see her she’s all like, ‘bleh i’m so busy with work,’ and ‘wah wah i’m too tired tonight’.”

The bartender rolled his eyes as he mixed the drink, looking at the man with an annoyed gaze.

“It’s so annoying, she was cool at the beginning but ugh, she’s like…she’s so hot and good in bed but jesus it’s like, like she, like I’m supposed to just go to her whenever, like, I need my time ya know, my man time and shit…”

The lumbering man felt his stomach churn with what he was hearing, growing even more irritated with the bastard than he was.

The man looked at his phone again, sighing, muttering to himself, “Wish she had bigger tits though…”

“Nice night, ey mate?” Simon’s voice was gruff as he spoke–the man jumping in his seat and whipping his head around.

“Christ–uh, Ghost–heyy man uh–”

The man's hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead, face flushed as he fumbled with his phone. Simon glanced at it, and felt his fist tighten up and his heartbeat speed up.

“Price’s been lookin' for ya, got some things to settle with ‘im.”

“Y-yeah,” the man looked to the bartender, who snorted out his nose and left the two alone, sending Simon a quick look, “I, I’ve got the money–almost um got the money like i’m so close to it–”

Simon cut him off by slapping his back roughly, jolting the man forward, digging his ribs into the bars corner.

“Oh I’m sure,” there was a beat of silence before he gestured to the phone on the bar, “That yer bird there?”

The man gulped and looked to his phone, as did Simon, a picture of you on the screen–it was a picture of you sitting with your knees to your chest, you were in a pair of black sports shorts that were just starting to ride up on your ass and a worn green t-shirt with some soda slogan on it. Your hair up messily and a fork resting between your lips. You were looking up at the camera through your brows a bit annoyed, a bowl of pasta sitting in front of you.

Simon felt his teeth grind together a bit, forcing himself to peel his eyes away from the phone to look at the much less pleasing sight of the drunk man who was sitting with his mouth open.

Simon agreed, you sure were something that was easy on the eyes. More than easy, he could look at you all day everyday if given the chance.

“Um…yeah?” the man sounded unsure of himself, slightly confused, “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Hm,” Simon hummed to himself, looking down at the picture again, “Pretty thing, ain't she?”

The man chuckled in a douche manner, “She’s pretty hot yeah, that’s why I’m dating her.”

There was a weird sense of boasting that rolled off the man's tone, eyeing Simon up and down.

“Wanna see more?”

Simon's gaze grew dark as he looked back to the drunk sitting there, who scrambled for his phone and started tapping at it, before holding it out to Simon–whose muscles tensed up and whose scowl deepened.

It was a picture of you on your hands and knees, chest nearly to the floor and your arm bent uncomfortably to reach under a shelf grabbing for something. Obviously unaware the picture was being taken.

“The fuck is that?” the titan of a man felt his voice drop lower, shoulders squaring out.

The drunk seemed to not catch the shift in atmosphere, “Got a great ass, don’t she?”

He looked back to his phone as Simon grabbed the man's wrist tightly, making him shout out a swear and look up with wide eyes.

“Hey what the hel–”

“Delete it.”

“Wh-what?”

“Delete. It.”

Simon’s tone was scary smooth, pulling the man's arms closer to him as he squeezed, leaning in closer.

“Uh–I…yeah I, ok I will…” Simon let go of the man and he stumbled back slightly, before shakily bringing his phone back to him, “Ya know she’s my girlfr–”

One look from the much bigger man caused him to shut up, snapping his attention back down to this phone.

“Ok, it’s gone…ass.”

Simon nodded, then reached around to grab the back on the man's collar. Pulling him up as Simon straightened up, arm solid with muscle as the scrawny man stumbled and reached around for him.

“Since ya ain't doin' nothin’, sure Price would like to 'av a word wi' ya…”

“I-I–”

Simon dragged him away, leading him out of the crowd stumbling and tripping over his feet with Simon’s wide steps. The blonds mind wandering back to the bird on the screen, his heart jumping again in his chest. For a moment he was taken out of the grimy place he was stuck in for the night, the air seemed easier to breathe and the nose not so grating on his ears…he had to see you again.

the lovely fighter si tag list:

@sophhieannee . @rafaelacallinybbay . @oceantornadoo  . @jamdoughnuts . @kupids-arrow . @msjaeger . @hidden-treasures21

[russo-woso]

I want to make him proud || Lia Wälti x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Warning death, grief

Summary You’re dad passes and you dedicate your goal to him

When you received the news your dad had died, your world stopped.

Your phone slipped from your hands, your body in shock.

Your father, your hero, who was a perfectly healthy man, had died from a heart attack.

Time stood still when you heard the words - your father passed away.

Your girlfriend, Lia, was in the kitchen when you’d picked up the phone.

She was carried away cooking when she heard your phone hit the ground.

“Baby? Are you okay?” She shouted through, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion when she didn’t get a reply. “Y/N?”

Putting down the knife, she walked through to the living room to see you as white as a ghost.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“He’s gone.” You whispered, your voice in complete disbelief.

“Who’s gone?”

“My dad. He’s gone.” You repeated, tears forming in your eyes.

“Baby, you’re going to have to give me more detail. Where’s he gone?”

“He passed away.”

The weeks that followed were ones filled with doom and grief.

You couldn’t believe it.

You had seen him just days before he passed. He was happy, he was healthy, he was perfect.

You remember the last time you saw him, a massive smile on his face as he reminisced some old stories from when you were growing up.

It had started when Lia spotted a picture of you as a baby on your parent’s mantle piece.

Your dad told the backstory of the picture and then more stories kept coming.

You hid your face in embarrassment as he told your girlfriends the most embarrassing stories known to man.

Even with the biggest smile on his face, you begged him to stop.

What you’d do to see that smile again.

The day of his funeral was the hardest day of your life.

It was a final goodbye to him - one that you never thought you’d have to make until years from now.

Lia remained by your side the whole way though, making it a bit more comforting.

The weekend after the funeral was a big weekend for Arsenal.

They were playing Lyon in the semi finals of the champions league.

Although you were not in the perfect mindset to play in one of the biggest games of the year, you had to.

It was a sellout - 60,000 tickets being sold already.

Despite the team telling you that it was okay to miss a match and how they didn’t expect you to play, you felt like you were letting them and the fans down if you didn’t play.

So, you pushed your emotions to the side, deciding to play the match.

As soon as you walked onto the pitch, you knew you’d made the right decision.

It was the perfect distraction took to take your mind off the grief.

The game kicked off and within seconds, you realised you weren’t just playing for the team - you were playing to make your dad proud.

You had a purpose now.

You were going to make your dad proud.

And that’s what you did.

You had played an outstanding game, but as the final minutes ticked by - the scoreline being 2-2, you wanted nothing more than to change it.

Running up and down the pitch, you pressed and pressed until eventually you intercepted a poor pass.

Within a second instinct, you started charging towards the Lyon keeper.

The ball was glued to your feet, there was no chance anyone was getting it from you.

No one was stopping you from the moment.

This was for your dad.

The ball left your foot, making direct contact with your boot as it curled around the keeper and into the bottom corner.

You fell to your knees, your body shaking from your sobs.

You looked up at the sky, kissing your hand and angling it up to the sky.

“You did it, baby!” Lia exclaimed, kneeling down next to you and enveloping you into a hug.

“I did it for him.”

“And he’s so proud of you.” Lia whispered, kissing your temple.

The girls crowded round, hugging you and patting your head.

“He’d be so proud, Y/N.” Steph said as you stood up, still looking up at the clouds.

You nodded, wiping your tears as you blew a final kiss to the sky.

Lia wrapped her arm around your waist as you walked back to your positions.

You had one mission when you walked onto the pitch and that was to make your dad proud and now you can walk off it knowing you did exactly that.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: The Yapper, The Listener

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Fandom: UConn's women's basketball

Rating: Fluff | First-Person POV

Summary: kk has always been the yapper, til you

Word Count: 1.4k

If you had told me a year ago that I’d somehow out-yap KK Arnold, I would’ve laughed in your face. I mean, KK? The loudest, chattiest, most relentless talker on and off the court? The same KK who could trash talk you into a bad game without even breaking a sweat? Yeah, right.

But here I was, sitting across from her at our usual booth in the student union, rambling about the absolute disrespect I’d endured in my morning class while she sipped her smoothie, nodding along like I was delivering the most important speech of the century.

“And then, tell me why this man had the audacity to mark my paper down a whole five points just because I ‘lacked conciseness’—KK, can you believe that? Lack conciseness? Babe, I am a storyteller. I paint pictures with my words.”

KK hummed, swirling her straw around her cup. “Mhm. Can’t rush the art.”

“That’s what I’m saying! He just doesn’t get my vision!” I huffed, leaning back against the cushioned booth. “Anyway, that ruined my whole morning. I had to go get an iced coffee just to recover, and then—”

I paused, narrowing my eyes at her. “Wait a minute. You’re way too quiet. What’s going on? You’re supposed to be my hype man in situations like this. Where’s the outrage? The energy? The unnecessary side commentary?”

KK smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “I mean… I figured you had it covered, mamas.”

I squinted. “What does that mean?”

She reached across the table, tapping my lips with her thumb. “It means you yap more than me now.”

I gasped, clutching my chest like she’d personally offended me. “That’s crazy. That’s actually insane.”

KK just laughed, settling back in her seat. “I used to think nobody could out-talk me, but you? You be talkin’.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, you act like you don’t love hearing me talk.”

She shrugged, lips twitching. “I do. That’s why I let you.”

That made me pause. My mind ran back to how things had shifted. When we first started dating, KK and I had been on the same level when it came to running our mouths. We’d banter back and forth for hours, seeing who could get the last word in (spoiler: it was usually me). But somewhere along the way, she’d settled into this… listening role.

Not because she had nothing to say—KK always had something to say—but because she liked hearing me talk.

I felt my face heat up at the realization. “Wait… have I just been yapping at you nonstop for months and you let me?”

KK grinned. “Mhm. And I don’t even mind.”

I stared at her. “I feel like I should be embarrassed. But I’m not.”

She reached for my hand, playing with my fingers. “Don’t be. I like it.”

And just like that, I melted.

Basketball practice had ended an hour ago, but I was still sitting on the sideline, waiting for KK to finish getting shots up.

Correction: commentating while waiting.

“There she goes, folks, lining up for the free throw—she dribbles once, twice—oh, she hesitates. The tension in the air is thick. Will she make it? Will she fold under the pressure? The crowd holds its breath—”

The ball swished through the net effortlessly.

KK turned to me with an unimpressed look. “You doubting me, mamas? That’s crazy.”

I grinned. “Never that, baby. Just setting the scene.”

She jogged over, resting her hands on her hips. “You ever thought about a career in commentary? You already talk enough for the both of us.”

I gasped dramatically. “So you admit I took your spot as the biggest yapper?”

KK shrugged, tapping my knee. “Go ‘head and take the title, baby. I like hearing you talk. You keep me entertained.”

I tilted my head at her, softening. “You really mean that?”

KK rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness there. “Yeah. Your voice is my favorite.”

Damn. How did she always make me feel like the luckiest person alive?

Later that night, we were curled up in my dorm, KK stretched out on my bed while I laid half on top of her, tracing patterns on her arm.

“I’m just saying, if you’re gonna sit there all quiet while I talk, I feel like you owe me commentary of some kind.”

KK raised a brow. “What kind of commentary?”

I huffed. “I dunno. Like little affirmations. ‘Mhm, that’s crazy’ isn’t gonna cut it all the time.”

She laughed. “Oh, so now you need me to hype you up while you talk? You getting greedy, mamas.”

I pouted, looking up at her. “I just like hearing your voice too.”

KK smirked before leaning down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. Next time you go on a rant, I’ll gas you up properly.”

I smiled, satisfied. “Good. Because I’ve been holding in a rant about how the dining hall got rid of my favorite cereal and I need you fully engaged.”

KK chuckled, wrapping her arms around me tighter. “I’m all ears, baby.”

And just like that, I went right back to talking, knowing she’d listen to every word.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[hee0soo]

When Stars & Moon Align

Pairing — Park Seonghwa x afab!Reader

Summary — Imperial Commander Park Seonghwa is a strict, unforgiving man, ready to follow through with every cruel command he is given... Until the woman he loves reveals herself to be part of the resistance...

Genre — angst, a lil fluff at the end, hurt/clmfort maybe (?) honestly i don't even know anymore

Warnings — death, suicide (?) like bro she asks him to kill her okay, mentions of war, literally every warning that comes with starwars tbh, bloodshed, mention of embyo death(?)

Word Count — 4.1k

Rating — NC-17

A/N — Plsss don't hate me for any inaccurancys! I haven't watched Star Wars in a good while and was simply inspired by this look ⬆️ for golden hour pt. 2

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Not many things were able to throw Park Seonghwa off. He was a well known Commander within the First Order, recognized for his calm, almost cold persona. A man that did not hesitate to kill when necessary or told to do so by the higher ups, cruel almost if one were to ask the victims of his torturous skills of pulling information out of a stubborn rebel. Many had claimed to withstand him and all had failed.

For the First Order, he was an important asset who knew how to get what he wanted and had no qualms about doing what was needed to get exactly that.

And so it was all the more surprising to see the cold façade of ice crack upon coming face to face with the rebels they had managed to catch just a few hours prior. He had yet to see them, only having known about the incomers after getting the order to prepare one of the chambers.

But now, staring into the face of the woman he had tried so hard to hide from his superiors, he had a hard time hiding the storm of emotions brewing inside him.

Had he known that you, his wife, the love of his life, was one of the rebels the First Order and thus him were trying so desperately to eliminate? Of course not! However to say he was surprised would also be a lie.

You had never been one to do as you were told. A true whirlwind that he had to save from getting her ass handed to her more times than he could count. Someone who was able to bring out the softer, more carefree side of his personality with something as simple as an eye bat and a smile that made it look like the stars were sparkling in them.

Hands bound behind your back and on your knees, glaring at the cold grey shimmering ground under you, you sat there. Waiting for what was to come.

“What should we do with them, Commander?” the muted voice of one of the officers cut through the heavy silence that surrounded them even while standing in the middle of a bustling hangar.

Seonghwa, schooling his face as best as he could back into a cold glaring picture of nonchalance, inhaled before staring down at your kneeling form. “Bring them to the interrogation chambers. I will take care of them in due time.”

He watched your muscles tense upon recognizing his voice.

“Yes, Commander!” The troopers roughly pulled you to your feet and if Seonghwa hadn´t had to pretend to be ignorant of whom you were, he would have ripped the trooper to shreds for doing so.

Hiding his amusement over how you immediately snarled at the poor trooper, swearing up and down at him with every insult he knew you knew off, he walked behind you with quick steps. The two men you were captured with were either dragged behind them or just as stubborn as you were being. It was pathetic how much they struggled with getting 3 non force wielders in Seonghwa’s opinion.

“Don´t fucking touch me you bastard!” you snapped when you were being forced forward particularly harsh, trying to hit the trooper with your leg which promptly got you a blaster smacked to the head. Delirious you sagged in yourself, sight swimming ever so slightly as you felt the spot start to bruise.

“Is that how you treat your guests? Were you not taught how to receive any?” The comment, seemingly directed at nobody, Seonghwa knew was for him to hear.

It was ironic because while when he was rarely at home, you almost never received guests in your house and when you did? You had to show him first how to treat them nicely.

You reached the Interrogation rooms. Funny how they were called that when they should have been called torture chambers, if one were to ask you. Sadly nobody did and so you quickly found yourself strapped to the giant, very uncomfortable looking chair that stood right in the middle of the room.

For the first time in ages did your eyes meet your husband’s as he stood right in front of you. Face blank of emotion and hands clasped together as they were resting against behind his back. He stood still, admiring your face and internally wincing when he saw the drying blood staining the side of your face and your busted lip.

“Take care of the others. She belongs to me.”

His words had you cackling in surprise, well knowing how true his statement rang. If Seonghwa was one thing that you could attest to, then it was possessive!

You were left alone with him. Neither of you wanting to falter first.

You silently raised your eyebrow at his still form, his apparent calmness grating on your nerves. Seonghwa felt the same, but knowing you well enough he also knew that if he didn´t break his silence then he would stand there until the galaxy ceased to exist.

“You never told me.”

It was a statement, not a question and you knew that very well. Instead of straight out answering you tilted your head and smiled.

“Should I have? Would you have accepted it?” you asked in return, knowing very well that Seonghwa wouldn´t be able to answer this. Seonghwa relaxed ever so slightly at the sound of your voice. There was no trace of anger or hatred for his actions traceable which left him a tad bit more at peace with the situation.

“You know I can´t answer that.” He sighed.

“No, I guess you can´t… But tell me this,” you began before falling silent. Smile falling a bit as reality began to settle into your bones. “What happens now?”

Seonghwa swallowed, the calm and collected facade now not just crumbling but completely falling. You could clearly see the fear and sadness behind those dark beautiful eyes you had fallen for all this time ago.

“Don´t say it, please don´t say it.” He begged, voice shaking the slightest bit as he took enough steps to stand right in front of you. You felt his gloved fingers gently touching your strapped down ones.

“Hwa… what else is there to say? I work for those you swore to hunt down, there is no other way but for you to-“

“No! I won´t let it come to that!” He didn’t let you speak. Hearing what you were going to say would shatter his resolve completely.

You scoffed gently in amusement. “You have no choice! Ren will kill you if you don´t at least get me to spill some information and you and I both know, that won´t happen. So tell me, what other choice do we have?”

The Commander of the First Order, your ever loving husband yelled, hand running through his neatly kempt back hair. “A different one then me fucking killing you y/n! My star please…”

“I´ll always be your star. But this is not something either of us can change. You either torture me until my heart hives out, or you shoot me right here and now. But please don´t let me wait for my demise in this horrible corner you call Interrogation Room.”

Frustrated Seonghwa turned around and rammed his fist into the hard surface of the wall. You flinched at the sound it made, worrying for his hand more then he seemed to be doing.

“Seonghwa, baby listen to me!” you said and gave him a said smile when he faced you again. A salty tear that you hadn´t notice was ready to be freed rolled down the side of your face. Seonghwa shook his head and came back cup your face in his hands, thumb wiping away the tear while pressing his forehead against yours.

He couldn´t care less if the cameras picked up on what was going on or if his Ren or even Snoke got their hands on the material. All he care about was being as close to you as possible in your position.

“You´ll be okay.” You whispered and received a whimper from the usually cold man in response.

“No I won´t. Not when I do this! I could never live with myself if I did.”

You leaned forward as far as you could, laying your lips on his for a gentle yet heartbreakingly desperate kiss. The tears were coming without anything stopping them at this point, mixing with his own.

“I love you, Park Seonghwa. I did ever since I almost shot you back when we were nothing but teenagers on Niamos,” both of you laughed at the reminder of how you had gotten close. “And I promise that I will do so until all the stars die.”

“My star I can´t-“ he took a deep breath and kissed you once more before backing up to catch himself again. “And I won´t.”

“Hwa!”

“No, I can´t lose you and much less kill you myself! I will find a way, just give me time.” With those last words he wipped the wetness from his cheeks and turned to leave. An anger you had never once felt before took over.

“NO! DON´T YOU DARE YOU FUCKING COWARD! GET BACK HERE AND FINISH IT!” The whoosh of the doors sliding shut could be heard through your screams, leaving you to calm down. “Please baby… just finish us…”

Back on the bridge surrounded by officers and troopers of every kind, Seonghwa fought hard on what to do now. It had been almost 4 rotations since you and your companions had been brought in and just as long since he had visited your cell. He had given the order that no one was to enter it without his explicit permission, reasoning that this was a new technique he wanted to try. Only to give food and a medic droid had been send in as of now.

“Let them stir in their misery.” He had said as if he needed to answer to any of them.

He knew that many questioned him for this, yet none of them dared to say anything out loud in fear of being on the receiving end of the commanders anger.

His train of thought came to an abrupt halt as the Admiral suddenly stood at his side.

“What?” he hissed and enjoyed the reaction he received.

“Lo- Lord Ren wishes to speak to you.” The man stammered and bowed at his waist.

A sigh left Seonghwa’s mouth and he followed even if a bit unwilling.

He stepped closer to the Holo projector, the blue light flickering as the connection shook.

“Commander. Have you made any progress with the prisoners?” The masked man inquired gruffly, causing Seonghwa to shake his head.

“No, none of them have spoken so far. We are still waiting for them to feel a sense of … safety… if you will.”

“You are supposed to break THEM! NOT MAKE THEM FEEL SAFE! This is not a cruise ship you are commanding!” Ren lost his temper and if it were anyone else Seonghwa would have been scared.

“Yes, Lord Ren. I am very aware and will let you know when we have made progress. It will be soon, I guarantee you.”

The Sith apprentice, while not happy accepted the answer, aware that he wasn´t able to do much while being in a different part of the galaxy.

“I hope so, commander. Or this will have consequences…” The threat hanging in the air was clear but the Commander paid it no mind. Whatever Ren had planned for him if this failed could not be worse then what would happen if he didn´t find a way to get you of this ship.

The hologram vanished as quickly as it had appeared and Seonghwa leaned heavily on the projector table when the droid who has been asked to check on you waddled over to hand him the datapad.

“If. You. Have. Any. More. Questions. Please. Don´t. Hesitate. To. Ask.” He stammered mechanically.

Seonghwa took the Datapad and ushered the droid away to read.

None of the located injuries where ones that particulary surprised him. A few bruises, a twisted ankle and a broken finger. Nothing that couldn´t be fixed easily.

The last sentence on the report however left him frozen.

Additional form of life detected.

Could this mean-

FUCK!

He read over it again, hoping that he might have been reading this wrong.

Additional form of life detected.

The words didn´t change, no matter how many times he read over them and something inside him snapped.

Fuck the war. Fuck the First Order and Fuck Ren and Snoke!

This didn´t just change the situation, it changed his entire view on what he stood and worked for. All of a sudden he didn´t care if the Resistance was destroyed or if the First Order won this war over the galaxies.

All that mattered to him was to get you and his unborn child to safety, even if it meant his own death.

And so he began to form his plan.

With hurried steps he marched of the bridge towards where you were being held captive. The troopers hurriedly jumped out of his way and left after hearing the hissed, “Dismissed. And let them prepare my ship!” being thrown their way.

The doors opened with a hiss and closed again behind him.

“Is it time for your daily taunts already?” you drawled out of boredom, eyes shut in resignation.

Guilt clawed at Seonghwa’s insides upon seeing the state you were in. His orders had very obviously been ignored, the black eye and the additional blood that had dried into the fabric of your tunics were a dead giveaway of that.

His eyes fall onto your stomach, the slight swell that he had not noticed in the hectic of the events just a few rotations prior, now very evident if one knew what to look for.

“Oh, my Star… I´m so sorry dear.” He sighed and opened the clasps holding you in place. Hearing his voice again your eyes flew open.

“What- Seonghwa? What are you doing?” you questioned and couldn´t stop the anger from bleeding into your words.

“There is no time to explain! We have to get to the hangar. Quick, there is no time!” he rushed to say and pulled you upright when you swayed a little to much for Seonghwa´s liking.

Gapping at the nothing saying explanation of his you struggled against him. Seonghwa tugged gently on your arm, causing you to fall forward and into his chest.

“We are getting out of here. You and I,” he said, staring straight into your Soul. “And our child.”

Eyes wide open you looked at him.

“You-“

“Know, yes. And there is nothing that will stop me from getting us out of here, so come. Follow me.”

When you had found your footing again, Seonghwa let go of your shocked form and pulled out his blaster from his weapon belt and opened the door. Gesturing for you to step out in front of him.

You felt the blaster being pressed into your back as he led you through the dark corridors towards the hangar. It seemed you were walking for ages past soldiers and droids that were going their own way until you walked into the hangar bay.

“I hate to ask this baby, but what do we do if your genius plan fails and we get caught?” you murmured under your breath so only your husband could hear.

He huffed a laugh. “We will find out when it comes to that.”

“Because that makes me feel so much better.” You rolled your eyes.

-------

“Commander, Sir! Your Ship has been prepared and is ready for departure. However we need identification that you are permissioned to leave with the prisoner!”

Both you and Seonghwa froze when you were stopped. So far everything had run smoothly so you shouldn´t be surprised that luck was now turning against you.

“I was directly ordered by Lord Ren to bring this prisoner to him and now let me trough.”

The two troopers guarding his ship looked at each other for a moment before turning back to you.

“I´m sorry commander but we need to see identification and validation of that order before we can let you board.”

You took a step closer to Seonghwa, slowly reaching for the gun still stuck to his waist. The moment you had it your hands on it you ducked and Seonghwa shoot the two straight in the head. The smell of burning armor filled your nose and you frowned as your stomach churned in protest.

An alarm started blaring through the hangar and the light turned red.

“GET IN AND PREPARE FOR TAKE OFF!” Seonghwa yelled and shot the storm troopers that were trying to stop them before you were gone.

You ran into the cockpit and sat down in front of the control panel to start the engine. The ship shook but Seonghwa managed to sat down at your side just after you took off, followed by 2 TIE/in Fighters that did everything to shoot you right out of the sky.

“Do something!” you yelled at your husband who was busy trying to defend them. Seonghwa, knowing how you could be under stress chose to ignore this and only muttered a quiet “What do you think I’m doing here?” to himself.

The first exploded into nothing more but ruble as it was hit by blaster bolts followed by the second and you suddenly were in hyperspace.

Seonghwa shut of the tracker that would allow the First Order to follow them where ever they went.

“Will we talk about this, my star?” he asked after silence had settle over the two of you.

“Not right now.” You said flatly, knowing that if you did now, you would probably tried to kill him yourself.

“And where are we going?”

“D’Qar.”

Seonghwa realized that he wouldn´t get anything more from you. He knew that you were mad at him for not listening to your request back in that cell but what was he supposed to do? Had he listened and followed through, then could have also simply asked the next trooper to shoot him right there and then.

“You know why I couldn’t do it.”

“Because you’re a coward?”

Now Seonghwa could admit that from anyone else, these words would have probably unleashed a storm of fury. From you? He knew that it was a defense mechanism to protect your pride and he had to conceal a smile. Even after all this time and all this fighting that shook up the galaxy once more, you still were the same fiery personality he fell for.

His face fell when he thought about what he had almost lost. The Commander could forgive you for fighting against his own cause, he could forgive you for fighting for what you believed in and like he said, he couldn’t even be surprised by it. You had always stood for those weaker than him and this was your own way of fighting for them; trying to save those who couldn’t save themselves from this war the first order had brought on.

However he couldn’t help but think-

“Would you really have sacrificed our child for them? To keep their secrets?”

Your stoic face faltered and in even tho he was only able to see your profile, he recognized the horror glimmering in your widened eyes when the realization set in what you had almost done.

It wasn’t just that you had tried to give your self up for the Resistance and what the Jedi fought for. It was the fact that you had also begged him to kill you, full well knowing that you carried the prove of your love under your heart.

Your hand fell onto your stomach which, now that he was aware of the circumstance, did look rounder than last time he had seen you when he had departed again.

“Don’t fret now, my star. Nothing happened to you and our little moon I promise you now, nothing will threaten you ever again as long as I am there to prevent it.” Even if his words were calm, that did not mean he felt as calm on the inside. You knew he was seething on the inside for your failure and protecting what he didn’t even know existed, even if you had not realized what it would have meant for the life growing inside your belly.

Seonghwa reached for your hand, the once still gently brushing over the swell of your stomach. He didn’t pull it away, no he simply added his own gentle ministration to it and you tears suddenly fell freely and without restraint.

Without having to think the man put the ship on autopilot to pull his silently crying wife into his arms. You went without much of a fight, craving the touch of your husband who you hadn’t seen since the baby was conceived. You had missed him terribly, driving those close to you nearly insane in the process.

It hadn’t been easy being pregnant and fighting your aches all alone when you didn’t feel like you could share, more like didn’t want to share the sweet news with anyone but the man wiping the salty liquid away from your cheeks and whispering soothing words into the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry, Hwa! So sorry! How could I even suggest- how could I not think—?” you wept out between heavy sobs.

“It’s done now, and we shall not think of it again. We are alright. You, me and this little moon of ours and nothing, nothing will ever change this again. How could I let them? Knowing what is waiting for me far away from the battle field…” he smiled, his own tears glistening in his eyes now that the adrenaline slowly settled.

You leaned your forehead against his, noses brushing against each other lightly. You reveled in it like a Loth-Cat getting chin scratches.

Seonghwa closed the gap between your lips, sealing them with yours and it was like coming home before the moment was over far to fast in your opinion.

“So, D’Qar huh? Is that where you have been hiding?” he whispered with a smug grin which in turned earned him a slap to the back of his not so sleek any more ponytail.

[toto-the-cactus]

Thoughts about Guilimans daughter (who I have named Olyssia Guiliman) being the little baby sister to the ultramarine. Adorable. Now picture adult Olyssia, the Lady of Macragge being the elder sister. Olyssia seeing Ultramarines, so long lives to the baselines, but still so quickly gone to she who has lived millenia.

I'll be frank here, I pulled this short thing out of my ass at 3am so hope this actually gives you some fun when comparing old astartes regarding Roboute's daughter vs 40k astartes regarding Roboute's daughter. Not a lot, but I had fun writing it.

-°-

Titus had heard about the Lady of Macragge during his years as a Neophyte.

Most astartes do after undergoing the gene-seed implantation, but it was usually mentioned in reverence the same way one did with a Primarch’s name during the preachings. Before any of that, the primaris had never even seen a sculpture or portrait of the Lady.

To see her in person alongside her father, their Father, was quite an experience he had yet to express properly; mind still unable to believe that he is in their presence while inside the one place in the Macragge’s Honour that just a handful of firstborn astartes were allowed into: The Resting Home of the Legion Mother.

The fact that he had been brought here by Calgar himself was the one thing that kept Titus in check to not kneel rushedly in front of his Primarch and trueborn like just some initiated marine; this was a place of peace and quiet that needed to be respected and more specially when both husband and daughter mourned the prone body of the woman inside the stasis field that kept her life in a limbo.

“My Lord” saluted Calgar but once his eye strayed to the Lady, his expression softened in a way that caught Demetrius by surprise. “Hello, little one” he said this time with a tender influx. Nothing like the hardened Chapter Master that the primaris had come to know.

“Hi, Calgar” answered the young woman with obvious strain in her tone and a few traces of tears on her face.

It had been said in the past that when the Lady of Macragge always visited her mother’s sleeping form, crying could be heard from the outside. One thing was hearing the serfs mentioning such a fact but another abysmal thing to see it become true. He had heard the fates this woman, the granddaughter of the Emperor, had achieved during her years leading the Ultramarines after the Heresy.

To see her reduced like this by the grief was… humbling and strange.

“To what I own this interruption, Calgar?” asked the Primarch impatiently. Eyes never leaving the face of his wife as if he hoped to see a change in her peaceful expression.

With that question, both Guilliman and Marneus went a bit far to speak privately from them. Leaving Titus and the Lady alone.

This couldn’t be more awkward.

Demetrian still had to wrap his head around how the Chapter Master simply greeted the young woman with a familiarity that floored him. As if her status as trueborn was merely a decoration extending from her.

“You’re Demetrian Titus, right?”

At her soft voice, the primaris finally dared to look at the Lady to her eyes. She was practically a carbon copy of the Primarch, but her baseline genetics did a good job to smooth the rough edges.

“That is correct, my Lady” he answered the same he would when regarded by a superior. “It’s an honor to even be let inside this sacred room, my Lady. I feel humbled that you know my name too”

“It’s the minimum I can do as my father’s daughter… I always try to remember the names of the astartes that Big Brother Calgar always mentions more than once”

Titus, again, has to do a double take at the familiarity the Lady refers to someone like the Chapter Master.

Where he looks up at her in both reverence and curiosity, those that have lived before the Heresy had known the Lady of Macragge when still a child of bright eyes.

-°-

Titus when Olyssia knew his name the very first time they met:

[lavenderchqn]

✧・┆drunk on love — lyney

— it's the evening of lyney's birthday when you receive a call to retrieve your drunk partner from the lovely hands of his friend group's.

this piece is set after the story of red lines, although it works as a standalone read~

content warning: lyney is drunk. he's silly, but he's drunk.

Your eyes are barely open when your phone rings. You’ve been trying to finish correcting your master thesis for the entire evening, after sending your boyfriend out to spend his birthday with his friends. Taking a glance at the caller, as well as the time, you notice it’s Wriothesley. 

You answer the phone, worry already seeping into your mind. “Hello?”. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong… given Lyney’s ability to handle alcohol. 

“Hi,” Wriothesley says breathlessly, sounding more than exhausted. “Sorry to be calling you so late.” 

“It’s alright, what’s up?” You interrupt, drumming your other hand on your keyboard. “You sound miserable, man.” 

“Tell me about it…” He says voice muffled as if he’s covered his mouth with his hand. “I hate being the designated driver on nights like these.” 

“They made you the designated driver?!” Shock fills your voice. “You didn’t drink, did you?” 

“I didn’t, don’t worry—“ Wriothesley laughs. “Quite amusing to see this lot completely drunk. I mean, Neuvillette has been crying about Furina breaking one of her nails for the entire time.” 

“Ahh, gotcha.” You nod to yourself, hoping that the man will get back on track soon. “Do you need my help with something?” You ask. Wriothesley calling you is not something that happens regularly. At most, he'd only send you embarrassing pictures of your boyfriend. 

“Lyney’s been calling out for you since he took a shot of whiskey. I don’t think I can take him, Furina and Neuvillette home without a drink myself in between…” 

As if on cue, Lyney — the man in question — seems to notice he’s being talked about that. You can hear a sudden movement followed by a cheerful laugh. 

“Hi, baby!~” Lyney’s voice seems more joyous than ever. Yeah, that man is as drunk as a kite. “I miss you so so so much!!” 

“Having fun?” You ask, a small smile gracing your face. Given how stressful the winter season was for everyone involved, with the ever-nearing period of defending their scientific titles approaching, you felt nothing but happiness that Lyney went out to celebrate his birthday with his friends. 

“Not the same without youu…” With how he's speaking, there must be a small pout on his face — his eyebrows knit. “No, no no… Wrio, let me talk man…” Ah. Wriothesley must be making a deal with your boyfriend to retrieve his phone. 

“As I was saying,” The sole sober person speaks. “You’d do me a huge favour by coming to pick your prince.” 

“I’ll go put on my shoes and be on the way.” You say. “Just send me the address. Oh, and don’t allow Lyney to drink more, alright?” 

“Will do. Thanks, and sorry, again” 

The message containing the group’s location comes the moment you end the call. Dressing yourself in anything comfortable, you’re ready to head out and take Lyney’s car. Ever since getting your driver’s license, he swore the only car you’d ever need is his. 

Luckily the road is not too crowded, nor glistened from the rain despite all the inside jokes of Neuvillette’s tears causing it. You arrive without much issue, already spotting the group as you pull up to the parking lot. 

Wriothesley is busy balancing an asleep Furina and Neuvillette who keeps on sobbing, head supported on his shoulder. Lyney’s standing on his two feet, zipping up his jacket. Lovely. Perhaps getting him back to the house will be easier than expected. He seems to spot you, approaching as you park the vehicle. 

His eyes curve into straight lines as he breaks into a smile. Swaying from side to side, he throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. “Missed youuu”

“One child less to care for?” You ask Wriothesley while patting Lyney’s head.

“Unless you turn the car around…” He chuckles, readjusting Neuvillette’s position. “Thanks for the help, really.” 

“Happy to help, Wrio.” With that, you split — each of you heading to their car. With the way you’re both basically dragging other people, it does take a while. “Message me when you’re home!” You shout as he’s settling his friends into the backseat. 

“You too!”   

“You’re going need to let go of me, Love.” You say, still patting Lyney’s head. It’s been almost five minutes of you standing out in the cold, your partner too clingy to allow you to drive the two of you back. “I promise you, once we’re home you’ll get all the cuddles.” 

The blonde turns his head, looking directly at you. It’s unfair, you think, that even underneath this lighting, he still looks like a statue. His hair is unusually curly, and a pair of glasses is balancing on his nose. Not to mention the pure delight in his violet eyes, matching the warm, albeit drunk smile. 

“Pinky?” He extends his finger, looking determined. Of course, he’d make you promise something as silly as this. You quickly interlock with one of your own, moving afterwards to open his door. 

“Get in,” You smile, holding the door for him. “You’re the passenger prince today.” 

All you can hear back is the tiny gibberish thoughts of a drunken man. You help him with the safety belt, and only when you confirm he’s actually buckled in, do you take your designated driver’s seat. 

For the first time during your ride, it’s completely quiet. You’re unsure if Lyney’s fallen asleep, but checking the overhead mirror tells you his eyes are very much awake. His head sways slightly as if he was listening to music. 

“What’s on the playlist?” You ask, leaning your head towards him, as to signal you’re talking to him. 

“Marry you.” 

You blink, momentarily distracted by his response. “Marry you? That’s what's in your head right now?" You tease, stealing a quick glance in his direction. 

Lyney nods enthusiastically, though the movement is a bit too exaggerated in his tipsy state. “Yep! As Bruno says… It’s a beautiful night,” he slurs with a dreamy smile. “I wanna marry youuuuu.” His voice, although off-key, is filled with unmistakable affection, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head at him missing some of the words.

“But I’m honest!” He protests, his pout returning. “I think we should… should get married. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe today? We’re both free today!” 

“Lyney,” You sigh, though you can’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re not even going to remember this conversation in the morning.” 

“Will too!” He insists, crossing his arms in a huff, though his coordination betrays him and he almost smacks himself in the face. “I’ll remember everything. Like how much I love you, and how I wanna spend all my birthdays with you. And how…” His voice trails off, softer now. “How you’re the best thing in my whole world.” 

Your heart squeezes at his words, even if they’re fuelled by alcohol. “Alright, my sweet drunk prince,” You say gently. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can talk about this… grand proposal of yours.” 

“Promise?” He mumbles, already starting to doze off. 

“I promise,” You reply softly, glancing at him through the mirror again. His eyelids are drooping, his lips curled into a content smile as sleep claims him. 

date of posting — february 2nd 2025

[jupiterpilgrim]

Storm

Dahyun x Male Reader

word count: 5K

The storm’s been pounding the world outside since morning, slashing against the windows like nature itself lost its temper. Inside, though, it’s warm. Smells of butter and chocolate fill the small kitchen as you finish arranging the last handful of popcorn in the bowl. You grab the soda cans, balancing everything like a waiter on a tightrope. In the living room, Dahyun’s voice carries over the rumble of rain.

“Babe! Hurry up!” she whines, her pitch soaring as you hear the soft thuds of her bouncing on the couch cushions. She sounds like a sugar-rushed kid waiting for cake. You can already picture her, legs tucked under her, short pink Hello Kitty shorts riding up her pale thighs, loose shirt hanging off one shoulder. You shake your head with a grin, grabbing a pack of M&Ms to complete the spread.

Three months of living together, and the novelty hasn’t worn off. It’s the little things—how she’ll randomly burst into song while brushing her teeth or how she’s somehow made every corner of the house scream Dahyun. She’s your chaotic little sunbeam, glowing even on days like this, when the world outside feels drenched in gray.

You make your way into the living room. Dahyun’s perched on her knees now, practically vibrating with excitement. “Finally! I thought you were planning a three-course meal back there,” she teases, flashing that toothy grin of hers.

“Snacks are serious business,” you shoot back, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

She claps her hands like a kid at Christmas and immediately snatches the remote. “Okay, okay, let’s do this!” She’s already flicking through the Disney+ menu, landing on the classic she’s been hyping all week. Something bright and nostalgic—perfect for a stormy night.

Just as she’s about to press play, the sky outside splits open. Thunder roars so loud it rattles the windows, and then—bam—everything goes dark.

“AAAAHHHH!” Dahyun shrieks, her voice cutting through the sudden silence. She’s off the couch in a flash, nearly tripping over herself as she stumbles toward you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” Her hands clutch at your arm, fingers digging in like a cat trying to climb a tree.

“It’s just a blackout,” you say, but she’s already shaking her head.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” she chants, squeezing her eyes shut. Her grip tightens as another crack of thunder rolls through, closer this time. She lets out a tiny yelp, burying her face in your chest.

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Dahyunnie, it’s fine. It’s just weather. It’s not gonna eat you.”

“It feels like it’s gonna eat me,” she mutters into your shirt, voice muffled and pitiful. “What if it doesn’t come back? What if we’re stuck in the dark forever?”

You bite back a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Forever’s a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Don’t make fun of me!” she pouts, though the corners of her lips twitch. Her hands stay glued to you as she shuffles in place, practically curling into your side like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to sanity.

You guide her back to the couch, sitting down with her practically in your lap. The rain hammers harder against the windows, and every so often the room lights up with a jagged flash of lightning. Each time, Dahyun flinches, burying herself further into you until she’s half-straddling you, her thin little body trembling slightly under the loose shirt.

“You’re really not a fan of storms, huh?” you ask softly, running your fingers through her silky black hair.

“Nope. Never. Hate them,” she mutters, clutching the front of your shirt. “They’re loud, and it’s dark, and it’s like... ugh, I can’t explain it.” She looks up at you, and even though you can't see it properly, you know she's scrunching her nose in that way that always makes your heart flip. “You think I’m dumb.

“I think you’re adorable,” you say, leaning in to nuzzle her. She giggles despite herself, smacking your chest lightly.

“Don’t try to charm me. I’m serious. I feel like a little kid, freaking out like this.”

“You’re my little kid,” you tease, earning another playful slap. “Alright, alright, I get it. But you know what? You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m here.”

Her fingers relax a little, her body softening against you. She sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. “You always make me feel safe,” she murmurs.

“I mean, I am pretty great,” you joke, earning a snort.

Her laughter is short-lived as another rumble of thunder sends a shiver through her. Her legs twitch slightly where they’re pressed against yours, bare and smooth. You trail your hand down to her thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at you. “I know a way to make you forget about the storm.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping low. “Distraction therapy.”

Her lips part, her breath hitching slightly as she catches the mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles, though there’s a flicker of interest in her voice.

“Maybe,” you admit, letting your hand wander just a little higher, brushing the hem of her shorts. “But you love me for it.”

Her cheeks flush pink, the storm momentarily forgotten as she shifts in your lap, the weight of her settling just right.

You move your hand to Dahyun's head, your fingers comb through her hair, the silky strands slipping easily between your fingers. She feels so small in your lap, legs folded up, her cheek pressed against your chest. The rain’s still battering the windows, and the occasional flicker of lightning casts jagged shadows across the room, but you focus on her—on her warmth, her little huffs of nervous breath.

“You okay?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

She nods weakly, though her grip on your shirt hasn’t loosened. “Yeah... I just—tonight was supposed to be fun, you know?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were excited about the movie.”

She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her pout exaggerated. “Of course I was! It’s a classic! I’ve been talking about it all week, haven’t I?” Her voice lilts with playful indignation, though her eyes are still wide, the thunder’s threat lurking in the back of her mind.

“You’ve been hyping it like it’s the second coming of Christ,” you tease, earning a small giggle.

“Well, yeah,” she says with a dramatic toss of her head. “Now it’s ruined. Stupid storm.” Her gaze drifts toward the window, her mood dipping again. You hate seeing that little flicker of disappointment in her.

“We’ll watch it as soon as the power comes back,” you promise, pulling her closer. “But hey, this just means we’ll have to do this whole thing again. More snacks, more cuddles. Bigger deal.”

She narrows her eyes like she’s considering your pitch, then smirks. “Fine, but only if you let me pick another movie, too.”

“Deal,” you say, grinning, just as another crack of thunder splits the air.

Dahyun screams, loud and high-pitched, the sound stabbing directly into your eardrum. You wince, half-deaf, as she scrambles up against you like she’s trying to climb inside your skin. Her arms lock around your neck, her whole body trembling like a cornered kitten.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I hate this! It feels like the sky is gonna fall!” she wails, voice muffled against your chest.

“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, stroking her back in slow circles. “It’s just noise. It can’t hurt you.”

“But it feels like it can,” she whimpers, squeezing tighter.

“Hey, listen to me,” you say, tilting her chin up so her glassy eyes meet yours. “You don’t need to be scared, okay? I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here.”

She sniffs, her lips wobbling into the faintest smile. “You always say the right thing, huh?”

“It’s a gift,” you say, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But for real. If you ever feel scared, you just let me know, okay?”

She nods, her voice small. “Okay.”

A pause stretches between you, the storm roaring outside, while inside, it’s just her heartbeat against yours. Finally, you murmur, “You want me to calm you down now? Make you feel good?”

She blinks up at you, her breath catching slightly. “...Yeah,” she whispers, almost shyly.

You lean in, the space between you shrinking. In the dark, neither of you can see clearly, and when your lips meet, there’s a sharp clink—teeth crashing together painfully.

“Shit!” you yelp, pulling back, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she gasps, then bursts out laughing when she sees you clutching your face. “You’re such a dork!”

“Me?! You’re the one who can’t aim!” you shoot back, grinning despite the ache.

She’s still laughing as you cup her face again, this time more careful, your thumb brushing against her cheekbone. “Alright, let’s try this again,” you whisper, and then your lips meet hers properly. It’s soft at first, a tentative press, but the way she melts into you makes you press harder, deeper. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, fingers curling into your shirt as she sighs into your mouth.

The world outside seems to shrink. The storm, the dark, the cold—all of it fades as your bodies draw closer, her warmth against yours. Her lips are so soft, and there’s something addictive about the way she responds, the little noises she makes as your hands trail down her sides, brushing the bare skin of her thighs where her shorts ride up.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you whisper, “C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

She hesitates for half a second, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip, before nodding. “Okay,” she breathes.

The two of you fumble your way through the pitch-black apartment, bumping into furniture and each other. She stifles a giggle when she nearly trips over the coffee table, clutching your hand like it’s her lifeline. By the time you reach the bedroom, both of you are out of breath from laughing, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm, intimate. You push the door open, pulling her inside as lightning flashes outside, casting fleeting silver across her silhouette.

In the dark, her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close again. “Thanks for being my storm shield,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.

“Anytime,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring every second.

Your lips are locked with hers, warm and soft, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. As you kiss her, you guide her backward, your hands on her waist, steadying her as you move. Her leg bumps against the edge of the bed, and before either of you can react, she stumbles, falling onto the mattress with a surprised laugh.

You’re right there with her, landing softly on top of her. She’s still giggling, her cheeks flushed, and you can’t help but smile down at her. “You okay?” you ask, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice light, her eyes sparkling in the faint sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Her hands slide up to your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Now kiss me.”

Then your mouth finds hers again, but this time it’s slower, deeper. Your hands roam, sliding down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist under the thin fabric of her shirt. She sighs into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath you as you press her into the mattress.

Breaking away from her lips, you start a trail of kisses down her jaw, your lips brushing over the delicate curve until you reach her neck. Her skin is warm and smells faintly of her vanilla body lotion, sweet and intoxicating. You breathe her in, unable to get enough, and press your mouth against her neck, kissing and nipping gently. Her head tilts back, giving you more access, and she lets out this tiny, breathy moan that goes straight to your core.

“God, you smell so good,” you murmur against her skin, your lips moving to her collarbone. She shivers under you, her hands gripping the back of your shirt.

“You always say that,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with teasing.

“Because it’s true,” you reply, grinning as you kiss the hollow of her throat. She smells like comfort, like home, like something you could drown in and never get tired of. Every kiss draws another little sound from her—a sigh, a gasp, a quiet moan—and each one just spurs you on.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin, the words tumbling out between kisses.

“I love you too,” she breathes, her voice trembling just slightly, like she’s overwhelmed.

Your hands slide up her sides, gathering the hem of her loose shirt. You pause for a second, giving her a look, then you pull it up, revealing her pale skin inch by inch. The cold air hits her, making her shiver, and you notice the goosebumps rising on her arms. “Cold?” you ask softly.

“A little,” she admits, but there’s a teasing glint in her eye. “You can warm me up, right?”

You smirk. “Oh, I’ve got that covered.”

Her shirt ends up somewhere on the floor, forgotten, as your eyes roam over her. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breaths shallow, and her almost-flat breasts peek out from under her bra. You lean down, trailing kisses over her skin, starting at her stomach and working your way up, taking your time. Her breathing changes with every kiss, her chest heaving as you kiss the curve of her ribs, the dip between her breasts.

“You know I love these, right?” you murmur, your lips brushing over the top of her bra.

She rolls her eyes playfully, her cheeks flushing pink. “You’ve told me, like, a million times.”

“Yeah, but I never get tired of saying it,” you reply, slipping your fingers under the fabric and pulling the bra down enough to expose her. The cold air makes her nipples stiffen instantly, but your mouth is there a second later, warm and soft, replacing the chill with heat.

She gasps sharply, her back arching slightly as your lips close around her nipple. Your tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, and her hands fly to your hair, tangling in it as she pulls you closer. “God, that feels good,” she whispers, her voice shaky.

You hum against her skin, sucking gently, savoring the way her body reacts to every movement of your mouth. Your free hand slides up to her other breast, your fingers tracing lazy circles around the nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. She moans, her hips shifting under you, and you can feel the warmth of her thighs brushing against yours.

“You’re so perfect,” you say between kisses, moving to her other breast. “I could stay here forever.”

“Don’t say that,” she murmurs, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ll make me cry.”

You pause, looking up at her, your lips brushing against her skin. “Good tears or bad tears?”

She smiles down at you, her eyes shining. “Good ones.”

“Then I’ll keep going,” you whisper, lowering your mouth to her again.

Your mouth stays busy on her chest, sucking gently on her nipple while your tongue flicks over the hardened peak, earning another soft moan from her lips. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging slightly whenever you suck harder. It’s like she’s melting under you, her body arching and squirming, her little sounds only encouraging you to keep going.

As your lips trail from one breast to the other, your hand starts to wander. It slides down the flat plane of her stomach, her skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. You pause for a moment, just long enough to feel the slight hitch in her breathing as your fingers reach the waistband of her shorts. You know she's watching you now, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted like she’s waiting for what’s coming next.

You slip your hand under the fabric of her shorts and panties, your palm brushing against her hip, and immediately feel the heat radiating from her. When your fingers dip lower, the first thing you feel is how wet she already is. A low groan escapes your throat as your fingers slide over her slick folds, and you pull back just enough to murmur against her skin, “You’re soaked, baby.”

“Shut up,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no hiding the way her body reacts. Her hips shift instinctively, pressing herself against your hand, her breath coming out in quick, shaky bursts.

Your fingers glide over her, spreading her wetness as you find her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Her body jerks slightly, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her head falling back against the pillow.

“Feel good?” you ask, though the way her thighs tremble and try to close around your hand is answer enough.

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice soft and high-pitched, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you say with a grin, dipping your head back down to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple again, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make her squirm. At the same time, your fingers slide lower, slipping into her tight, dripping hole.

“Fuck,” you groan against her skin as you feel how warm and snug she is around your fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

She lets out a choked moan, her hands flying to your shoulders, clutching you as your fingers start to move. Slow at first, pumping in and out of her while your thumb circles her clit. Her body reacts instantly, her hips rocking to meet your hand, her moans growing louder with every thrust.

“God, you’re amazing,” you murmur, kissing her chest, her neck, her jaw. “So fucking perfect.”

She’s trembling now, her breathing ragged as you pick up the pace. Your fingers curl inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp and cling to you like her life depends on it. “Right there,” she cries out, her nails digging into your skin. “Fuck, don’t stop, right there.”

“Anything for you,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with desire. Your thumb presses harder against her clit, and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers, her body tensing. Her moans are louder now, more desperate, her head tossing back as her legs start to shake.

It’s all too much for her—your mouth on her breasts, your fingers buried deep in her slick pussy, pumping and curling just right. Every time you move, every time you kiss her skin, her little moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand like she can’t get enough. Her nails dig into your shoulders as she gasps for air, her voice breaking into shaky little whimpers.

But even with all that, it’s not enough for her. She can feel the weight of your cock pressing against her thigh, thick and heavy, the heat of it radiating through your pants. It’s driving her insane. Her hips jerk erratically, chasing a friction that isn’t there, and her head tilts back as she lets out a desperate, needy moan.

“Babe,” she whines, her voice trembling, almost pathetic with how desperate she sounds. “I need you. Please. I need it.”

Her words make your cock throb, the sheer hunger in her tone lighting a fire in your chest. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look down at her. “You need what?” you ask, teasing, though your voice is rough, your own need barely held in check.

She groans in frustration, her cheeks flushed, her thighs trembling. “You know what I need!” she cries, her hands sliding down your chest, trying to tug at the waistband of your pants. “Please, I need your cock. I can’t wait anymore.”

The way she’s begging, her voice cracking with need, only makes you harder. Your fingers slow their pace inside her, and she whimpers at the loss of momentum, squirming beneath you. “You really want it that bad?” you murmur, pulling your hand out of her and holding it up before putting two fingers in your mouth to taste it. “You’re dripping for me, baby.”

“Yes!” she gasps, her hands fumbling with the button of your pants now, her impatience clear in every movement. “Please, just—just fuck me already. I need you.”

Her begging snaps what little control you were holding onto. “Alright,” you growl, sitting back on your knees and shoving your pants down. You don’t bother with underwear—you’re not wearing any—and your cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with precum. Dahyun's small hand immediately wraps around your cock, stroking it lightly, her breath catching.

“You’re so big,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Then come and get it,” you reply, leaning back against the headboard, your cock resting against your stomach, throbbing with anticipation.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands go to her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her shorts follow along with her panties, and now she’s naked, her pale skin glowing in the darkness. She’s perfect, every curve, every line of her body making your mouth water.

You grab her hips as she climbs onto your lap, straddling you, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You sure you can handle it?” you tease, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

“Shut up,” she mutters. “I need it.”

Her hands grip your shoulders as she tries to position herself, her body brushing against yours in the process. You can feel the heat of her pussy against your cock, and it makes you groan, your hands tightening on her hips.

“It’s hard to see,” she murmurs, frustration creeping into her tone as she shifts, trying to line herself up in the dark.

“Take your time, baby,” you say, though your voice is strained. Every time her slick folds brush against your cock, it sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Finally, she finds the angle she needs, and you both moan as the tip of your cock presses against her entrance. Slowly, she starts to sink down, her tight pussy stretching around you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling forward, her nails digging into your shoulders as she lowers herself. “You’re so... fucking... big.”

“You’re so tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you try not to buck up into her. The heat and wetness of her pussy, the way it clenches around you, makes it almost impossible to stay still. “God, you feel so good.”

She’s breathing hard, her thighs trembling as she takes more of you, her pussy stretching to accommodate your girth. It’s slow, almost torturous, but finally, she’s seated all the way down, her ass resting against your thighs. She lets out a shaky moan of relief, her head falling back as her body adjusts to the fullness.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “You’re so deep... I can feel you everywhere.”

You tilt your head back, groaning as her walls flutter around you. “You’re perfect,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides, holding her steady as she starts to move. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you need it.”

The moment Dahyun starts moving, you know you’re in trouble. She wastes no time, her hips rolling and bouncing, her tight, wet pussy gripping you like a fucking vice. It’s almost overwhelming—how snug she is, how her heat wraps around you, dragging you deeper with every thrust. Even in the dark, with the only light coming from the occasional flicker of lightning outside, you don’t need to see her to know she looks incredible. Her small, pale body moving on top of you, her thighs trembling as she rides you like her life depends on it—you can feel it all, and it’s driving you insane.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as she starts to pick up speed. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

Her moans grow louder, higher-pitched, the sound raw and needy as she rocks her hips against you. Her hands are braced on your chest, her nails digging in for leverage as she moves. “God,” she whimpers, her voice shaky but insistent. “You’re so big. So fucking thick. I can feel you stretching me out.”

Your cock throbs at her words, a low growl rumbling in your chest. She always says shit like that, like she knows exactly how to get under your skin, how to push you closer to the edge. And fuck, it works every time. “You love it, don’t you?” you mutter, your voice rough. “You love how my cock fills you up.”

“Yes,” she cries out, her pace quickening, the wet sound of her pussy taking you echoing through the room. “I love it so much. I’m fucking addicted to it. To you.”

Her confession makes your grip on her hips tighten, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you help guide her movements. You can feel her tight little ass rubbing against your pelvis with every bounce, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “You feel so fucking good, Dahyun,” you groan, your head tilting back as she keeps going. “I can never get enough of you.”

The rain outside seems to be coming down harder, the sound of it pounding against the windows mixing with the slap of her skin against yours. Thunder rolls through the sky, loud and sharp, but neither of you pays it any attention. She’s too focused on the way your cock fills her, and you’re too caught up in the way her pussy clenches around you, milking you like she never wants to let go.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, her voice breaking slightly as she leans forward, her breath hot against your neck. “I can feel you... fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

Her words make your cock twitch, and you glance down, even in the dim light, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. She’s so small, her frame so petite, that every time you’re buried inside her, you can see the faint outline of your cock bulging in her lower belly. It’s fucking intoxicating, knowing how much you fill her, how her tiny body takes you so perfectly.

“Look at that,” you murmur, your hand sliding between you to press gently against her stomach. She lets out a choked gasp, her hips stuttering for a moment as she feels the added pressure. “You feel that? That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you.”

“Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice high and shaky. “I feel it... I love it. I love how big you are. How you stretch me out.”

“Keep going,” you tell her, your hands moving back to her hips, urging her to keep moving. “Ride me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Her pace quickens again, her hips slamming down onto you with a desperate rhythm. Her moans grow louder, more frantic, the sound mixing with the rain and thunder as she completely loses herself in the feeling of you. Her thighs are trembling against your sides, her body working overtime to take all of you, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down.

“God, you’re amazing,” you groan, your hands roaming up and down her body, over her ribs, her waist, her thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect, Dahyun. I could watch you do this all night.”

“Then don’t stop watching,” she gasps, her voice breathless but teasing. “I’ll ride you as long as you want.”

And fuck, she means it. Even though you haven’t cum yet, and neither has she, the way she’s moving, the way her pussy grips you like she never wants to let you go—it’s enough to make you feel like you could lose it at any second. But you hold on, watching as she keeps going, her moans and gasps filling the room as she rides you like there’s no tomorrow.

Dahyun’s movements are growing more frantic now, her slim body bouncing on your cock with wild abandon. Her moans are louder, breathless and unrestrained, filling the room as her hips slap against yours. The wet, messy sounds of her tight pussy taking you echo beneath the storm outside, the rain beating against the windows a steady, distant drum. Her small hands cling to your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she rides you like she can’t get enough.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist to steady her. “You’re so fucking good. Keep going, just like that.”

Her moans hitch, turning higher-pitched as she leans back slightly, her head tilting toward the ceiling. “It’s so good,” she whimpers, her voice shaky. “You’re so big—I feel so full.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your fingers pressing harder into her hips. “You like how my cock stretches you, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she cries out, her pace quickening as her thighs tremble around you. “I love it. I love you. It’s too much, I’m—” Her words break off into a sharp gasp, her body shuddering as she continues to bounce, every movement sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice rough and low as you watch her fall apart on top of you.

She nods frantically, her hands sliding up to your chest as she leans forward, her petite frame trembling with every movement. “So close,” she breathes, her voice almost a sob. “I can’t—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come here,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle as you pull her closer. She leans down, her breasts brushing against your chest, her flushed face inches from yours. You catch her lips in a messy, desperate kiss, your hands sliding up her back to hold her against you. She moans into your mouth, her hips still rocking against yours as you take over.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” you whisper against her lips, your breath hot and heavy. “Hold on tight, baby.”

With that, you adjust your legs on the bed, planting your feet for better leverage. Your hands move to her hips, holding her steady as you start to thrust up into her, hard and fast. The first deep, powerful stroke makes her cry out, her body jolting against yours.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, her voice high-pitched and trembling as you pound into her tight, soaking pussy.

“You like that?” you growl, your thrusts relentless as you drive into her over and over, each one hitting deeper, harder, making her walls squeeze around you like a vice.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes!” she screams, her head dropping onto your shoulder as her nails rake down your back. “I love it! Don’t stop—please don’t stop!”

Her moans are louder now, right in your ear, and fuck, it’s exactly what you need. The sound of her losing herself, the way her voice breaks with every thrust, sends a thrill through you. “That’s it,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”

She doesn’t hold back, her cries spilling out freely as you keep slamming into her, your cock hitting her deep, her pussy clenching tighter with every thrust. “It’s so good,” she babbles, her words slurring together. “You’re so good, so big, I can’t—I’m gonna—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come on, Dahyun,” you urge her, your voice low and rough. “Let go. Cum for me. I want to feel you.”

Her body stiffens suddenly, her back arching as she lets out a sharp, broken cry. “Oh fuck!” she screams, her walls clamping down around you as she finally falls over the edge. Her whole body shakes, her hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

You keep thrusting into her, your cock buried to the hilt as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches around you in rhythmic pulses, so tight it’s almost painful, but you don’t stop. You grind deeper, chasing that sweet friction even as she squirms, her breath hitching in overstimulated gasps.

“Too much—too much,” she whines, her voice cracking, but her hips jerk forward anyway, betraying her. You can’t see her face in the dark, but you know she’s rolling her eyes—that mix of annoyed and amused she always gets when you push her past her limits.

“You love it,” you growl, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath, your hands pinning her trembling thighs wide. Her skin is slick with sweat, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and her vanilla lotion.

She collapses against your chest, panting, her heartbeat wild against yours. “You’re… insane,” she mutters, but there’s a laugh tangled in her words. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your shoulder, shaky but still teasing.

You smirk, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Not even close to done with you.”

Before she can protest, you flip her onto her back, the mattress groaning as you loom over her. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, heels digging into your ass like she’s already begging for more. The faint glow of lightning spills through the curtains, illuminating her flushed face, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark and hungry.

“Gonna fuck you until I fill you up,” you say, voice rough. Your cock twitches, still rock-hard, leaking precum inside her pussy. “You want that? Want me to cum deep inside you?”

Her breath hitches. She bites her lip, her hips tilt upward, inviting. “Yes,” she whispers, then louder, desperate: “Fuck, yes—please, I need it. Need you to—ah—!”

You don’t let her finish. You slam into her, one brutal thrust that steals her voice, her back arching off the bed. She’s so fucking wet, her pussy swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, but she takes you greedily, her nails raking down your spine.

“Harder,” she demands, her legs tightening around you. “Don’t fucking hold back—give it to me.”

You oblige. Your hips piston into her, the slap of skin echoing beneath the storm’s dying growls. Every snap of your pelvis drags a broken moan from her throat, her walls fluttering around you like she’s trying to milk you dry. She’s a mess—hair tangled, chest heaving, tears clinging to her lashes from the intensity—but she’s yours, unraveling again under your hands.

“You feel that?” you grunt, driving deeper, your balls slapping against her ass. “Gonna pump you so full, you’ll drip for days.”

She whimpers, her head thrashing against the pillow. “Do it—fuck, cum in me—I want it, want you—”

You feel it first in your balls—that coiled, electric tension snapping tight as Dahyun’s pussy milks you, her walls fluttering like a fucking vice around your cock. “Gonna cum,” you warn, voice shredded, hips stuttering as you drive into her one last time. She claws at your back, her moans pitching higher. “Do it—fill me up, please—!”

Your release hits like a detonation—thick, pulsing ropes of cum surging deep into her. You groan, low and guttural, as you pump her full, your cock twitching with every hot jet that floods her tight pink cunt. She gasps, her legs shaking where they’re hooked around your waist, her nails digging crescent moons into your skin. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice breaking, “it’s so hot—I can feel it—”

You grind your hips harder, burying yourself to the root as your cum spills into her, the wet slap of your skin against hers echoing in the dark. Her pussy clenches greedily, sucking every drop from you, her breath coming in ragged hitches as you fill her. “That’s it,” you rasp, your forehead pressed to hers, “take it all, baby. Take all my fucking cum.”

She keens, her back arching off the mattress as your cum leaks around your cock, dripping down her thighs. The smell of sex—musky and sweet—hangs thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rain still clinging to the windows. You collapse onto her, both of you slick with sweat, your chests heaving as you ride out the aftershocks.

Minutes later, the room is quieter the storm outside reduced to a soft, distant hum. Dahyun’s curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin. Your cum is still leaking out of her, pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets, but neither of you care. The mess is part of it—part of this, the raw, unfiltered intimacy that comes after.

You run your fingers through her hair, the strands silky and damp with sweat. She hums softly, her body melting into yours, her legs tangled with yours under the covers. “You good?” you ask, your voice low and rough, but tender.

She tilts her head up to look at you, her big brown eyes glazed but content. “Mm. Better than good,” she murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You?”

“Never better,” you say, brushing a thumb over her cheek. She leans into the touch, her skin warm and flushed.

Her hand trails down your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your abs. “You know,” she starts, her voice teasing, “you’re kinda insufferable when you’re all… post-sex smug.”

You snort, pulling her closer. “Says the girl who just begged me to fill her up.”

She smacks your chest lightly, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Shut up,” she mutters, though her cheeks flush pink. “I was vulnerable.”

“Uh-huh.” You press a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering against her skin. “And now you’re not scared of the storm anymore, huh?”

She glances toward the window, where the rain taps gently against the glass. “What storm?” she says, her tone light and playful. “I don’t even remember what I was scared of.”

You chuckle, your hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight.”

She shifts slightly, her body pressing even closer to yours, her warmth seeping into your skin. “Like I’d want to,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your chest.

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. The room smells like sex and rain, the air thick with the kind of quiet that only comes after something real. Her heartbeat syncs with yours, steady and slow, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.

“You’re my favorite,” she says suddenly, her voice soft but sure.

You glance down at her, raising an eyebrow. “Favorite what?”

“Everything,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Back at you, Dahyunnie,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to her hair.

She sighs, content, her body relaxing completely against yours. Outside, the storm fades into nothing, but inside, it’s just her warmth, your arms, and the quiet promise of more nights like this.

[tiramisuucakeee]

presenting ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 STRAWBERRY GIRL ᝰ.ᐟ fem reader. yjw.

@ ! CHAPTER ONE ( looked my way ). narrated fic.

cherry blossom petals twirled in the light morning wind, as students scrambled inside the high school, talking to their peers and meeting friends at the entrance.

jungwon stood on the street alone, a paper in his hand, with the directions towards his new high school. he was starting this last year in another city since his father had to move for work. of course it was going to be difficult not being with his old friends, but they had promised to meet in university later on in life.

though for that to happen, he would have to graduate high school first, and that will only happen if he was able to find it.

“ah, i think it was the other street,” he stopped in his tracks, looking back, and then around, confused about his whereabouts. he had taken a small shortcut, and now he was lost.

it was then when you appeared, walking down from the other street, recognizing his uniform, but not his face. he must be new and looking for the school. that was something that always happened since it was quite hidden in the block by trees.

“you’re a student right?” you spoke, as he turned to you, stunned. his eyes were wide, clearly not expecting to be surprised in this moment, as his face slightly flushed a pink tint.

you laughed light-heartedly at his reaction, as he nodded. “yes, i am yang jungwon,” he bowed quickly, nervous.

“l/n y/n, you definitely look new,” you commented, reciprocating his actions. he looked up, finally being able to meet her face.

it was as if pure sunshine had come down from the blue sky to greet him, you seemed so warm and inviting he was afraid to say or do something wrong in your presence. “yeah,” he breathed out, looking at you with admiration.

“yeah… you look new? or you are new?” you grinned.

“oh, uh- both?” he blinked.

“follow me. make sure you remember the way,” you murmured, slipping past him down the narrow street, your footsteps light against the worn pavement.

jungwon didn’t hesitate, before going after you, trying to make his mind picture the road, so he would get caught in a perchance like this. maybe, if it were you who found him, he wouldn’t mind.

the quiet between you two felt strange, but comforting, like something that was always meant to happen. when you reached the school, the bell’s chime echoed faintly in the distance, signaling the end of your small journey. but before you could steal another glance at him, your friend group appeared from nowhere, pulling you away as if they had been waiting for this exact moment.

“you’re almost late, what happened?” chaery asked, twirling her bag strap around her finger, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“i found a new student,” you explained, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear as you adjusted the strap of your own bag. “he looked lost, so i just showed him the way.”

your friends rolled their eyes, an expression of playful exasperation on their faces. they knew you too well, how you couldn’t help but talk to anyone who seemed lost or lonely. it wasn’t unusual for you to help a new student find their way or sit with someone who needed a friend. some people thought you did it out of pity, or because you had an excess of kindness to give. but in reality, it was just because you could. you didn’t need a reason beyond that.

and maybe because you read in a magazine that most people regret not doing things rather than doing things.

“hello y/n,” your seatmate greeted you as you sat down with a smile, making you do the same.

you noticed a small transparent bag with some treats inside in your table, and you turned skeptically to him. “kento did you leave this here?”

“me?” kento’s voice was light, casual, as he leaned back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head. “oh no, there was this... gloomy depressed-looking guy who came by earlier. started asking me about where you were, like i had any idea. then he dropped that on your table and just... left."

you frowned, looking at the bag again, your curiosity piqued.

“he might not even know it’s not february anymore,” kento chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “maybe he's a bit... late.”

"hey, don't be mean," you laughed, taking the small bag in your hands and carefully inspecting the assortment of chocolates inside. "they look handmade."

"look," kento said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes, pointing to the bottom of one of the treats. "there's a brand."

"oh," you blinked, a little surprised, "maybe they thought i'd like this brand, or maybe he has no cooking skills."

"you're way too good," kento rolled his eyes, flopping back in his chair, his voice a little too loud. "i can see why everyone loves you." he sighed dramatically. you frowned at him, shooting him a glance that clearly said, don't embarrass me. but he only grinned, clearly entertained by your reaction.

just then, the bell rang, and the classroom fell into a quick hush as the homeroom teacher stepped in, flanked by someone unfamiliar. both of them stood at the front of the class, drawing everyone's attention.

he started explaining how he was happy to spend another year with the class, how he was looking forward to teaching again, his voice light and warm as he spoke. then, he shifted, gesturing to the person behind him. "this is our new student," he said.

as you were about to glance up to get a better look at the new arrival, a soft sound caught your attention. a small folded piece of paper appeared on your desk, almost as if it had materialized out of nowhere. you glanced down at it, your curiosity piqued.

it read: ‘want to go to the mall later today? - kento’

you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself, throwing him a quick, teasing look. he was acting completely normal, staring straight ahead at the teacher as if nothing had happened. ‘sure, let’s! - y/n’ and placed the note on his desk, hearing him open it and let out a hum of agreement.

just as you were about to refocus on the homeroom teacher, the bell rang again, signaling the end of the moment. the classroom erupted into movement as everyone stood up, eager to catch up with their friends before the next class began. the noise and bustle of students blocked your view of the front.

"hey, kento," you called, nudging your blond friend with a playful grin. "we should go to the pork bun shop after. i woke up with this strange craving..."

“are you pregnant?”

"i am going to pretend you didn't ask me that," you blinked, turning away to rummage through your bag for your math book, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck. “the words seem so weird coming from you.”

“it was just a joke, i know you always get weird cravings, if anything, your cravings are more like those of a toddler,” kento took your pencil case, rummaging through the interior to find a mechanical pencil for himself, already making your belongings a shared property.

he was one of your closest friends, someone you couldn’t imagine life without. you’d known him since kindergarten, when, with all the certainty of a five-year-old, he swore he would never leave your side. and while people often misunderstood the closeness of your friendship for a relationship, you didn't care about those rumors. you would never be afraid to admit that you’d cry your heart out if he ever left. and it wasn’t like you both haven’t sincerely tried to feel something for the other that wasn’t friendship love. but it was practically impossible for you both to feel that for the other.

the rest of the day went by in a breeze, and although the climate was still hot from summer vacations, you were glad to be back at school. it was strange, while many loathed going to school, you loved it. you loved seeing your friends, talking to everyone, having a routine, and the apple juice from the vending machine. if anything, you thought, you'd probably loathe the day when you’d have to leave all of this behind after graduation. but that was a future problem for another time. for now, you were content.

the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and you made your way to the bathroom, sending kento a quick message to let him know you’d meet him at the school’s entrance.

when you stepped inside the bathroom, a group of girls from the summer classes greeted you with bright smiles. they were quick to gush about how, despite the heat, your skin seemed to glow in a way that made them envious. you smiled, a little embarrassed, but grateful for the compliment. “thank you,” you said, your voice light. “we should hang out outside of school sometime, maybe go eat something sweet?”

they all agreed excitedly, chatting amongst themselves as they gathered their things to leave for the day, each girl heading off to her own plans. once the door closed behind them, the bathroom felt a little quieter, the buzz of conversation fading.

you let out a small breathy sigh, standing in front of the mirror to fix your appearance, checking it your hair wasn’t down, or else you will start feeling hot. taking a paper towel, you gently patted your face, making sure it wasn’t too shiny, giving yourself one last look in the mirror. satisfied with the little fix-up, you felt a bit more comfortable. you were ready to meet kento and head out to the mall and then the famous pork bun shop, your craving still lingering in the back of your mind.

you were a simple person, even to dumb things like cravings, someone who always vowed to stay true to what you wanted. it wasn’t complicated, and it didn’t require much thought. you were content with who you were and wanted, and that was enough for you. that was why sometimes you didn’t bother to clear up meaningless rumors about you, because even if you did talk with many, it was a small group of people who actually knew you.

you sent kento a message, letting him know you’d be there in three minutes. the school was pretty big for a high school, but after all, it was the only school in the area, and there were many families with kids who wanted to enroll them here. it wasn’t easy to pass the entrance exam, at least you’ve heard from newer students. speaking of new students... as you were walking down the hall on the second floor, you heard some voices through an open window, people talking.

“y/n?!”

“huh?” you stopped on your tracks, looking around, and then figured the voice came from below. “was that kento-“

“absolutely every girl i know is like obsessed with her, everyone wants to be her friend, even my younger sister, she’s crazy,” someone said. you blinked, feeling a blush creep up your neck at the comment. obsessed? you hadn’t thought of it that way. sure, some girls did approach you now and then, asking where you bought your clothes or what face products you used, but it wasn’t like they were obsessed. you were just one student in millions more. you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how the situation was being framed. it was all so... exaggerated. so much for trying to have many friends.

you didn’t quite know why they seemed so interested, but it was never something that bothered you. still, hearing this, made you feel slightly self-conscious. was that really how people saw you?

“kai don’t say that, it sounds like she’s a celebrity,” someone replied.

“but it’s true, jun,” kai replied, “my sister is always listening to the music she recommends, shopping at the same shops she does, it’s like y/n completely replaced bahiyyih!”

"okay, i don't think that's y/n’s fault, that's your sister's fault," yeonjun chimed in, rolling his eyes as he glanced at the group. he was standing next to jungwon, who looked like a sheep surrounded by wolves. kai was bombarding him with endless questions, soobin was trying to play the role of the class president by wanting to meet the new kid, beomgyu was laughing at everything kai said, and taehyun was lounging under a nearby tree, questioning how his friends managed to handle the heat.

"anyway," kai continued, his grin widening, "what do you think about her?"

“about who?” jungwon blinked.

"about y/n," kai clarified. "is she as awesome as all the girls say she is or what?”. beomgyu smacked kai’s arm at the remark, which definitely sounded a bit more sarcastic than it should’ve.

jungwon thought for a moment, his mind tracing back to the meeting before school, to which you came to save and guide him to school, then, he remembered the way you’d laugh in class, light and effortless, even if you didn’t seem to notice him there. but he noticed you. he noticed how you answered every question the teacher asked, how you weren’t afraid to speak up for those too shy to ask their own questions. jungwon was extremely observant, perhaps more than he wanted to be. but there was something about you, something that made him want to know you better. not just by watching, but by talking to you.

"she is bright," he said, finally breaking the silence.

“bright? smart?”

"okay, stop asking him dumb questions, i wanna go home and you take forever," yeonjun sighed, shaking his head. "it’s starting to look like you’re the one obsessed with y/n, not your sister."

they kept joking for a few moments, before deciding to all walk to the entrance, not leaving a single second for jungwon to say the contrary. they started heading out, not before making fun of taehyun, who was still lazily sitting under the tree, as if the heat had already defeated him. you observed them quietly, leaning against the window, your eyes following the group as they moved further away. what was that all about?

bright. bright. it was the first time someone had described you like that, and it lingered in your mind. did he mean you were smart? or was it your smile, your eyes, your face? maybe it wasn’t even about your appearance at all. was it a compliment, or was it sarcastic? you found yourself wondering about it, trying to figure out which part of you he had seen. what did he mean by that?

as the group walked farther away, it was almost as if jungwon felt something shift in the air. his gaze flicked back in your direction, and for a split second, time seemed to slow. your eyes met from across the wide patio, even from that distance, and something passed between you in that instant. a strange, silent connection. he didn’t mind, not even for a second, that you had overheard their conversation. in fact, it almost seemed like he didn’t care at all.

for jungwon, it was as if he had just been seen for the first time, by someone whose gaze felt different, like bright eyes had captured him in a way no one else had. something about it made him want to say more, to give you a compliment, to let you know exactly what he thought of your small encounter, but for now, he stayed silent. deep down, he felt it. the undeniable feeling that this wasn’t just another passerby in his life. this was different.

and you felt it too. his words had made sense of everything you do, everything you are. in some seconds, he got to know you to perfection without even actually knowing you.

@ masterlist

# TAGLIST OPEN ! @sol3chu @tasnemluvs @enhypen-myworld @firstclassjaylee …

[buckysouvenir]

call it what you want

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day tree!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

The world was quiet for once, but Bucky’s mind was anything but. 

The Winter Soldier. Hydra’s weapon. A killer. They had a picture of him so dark, even he had a hard time believing there was anything else left.

So, he disappeared. For months, nobody heard from him. Not Steve. Not Sam. He needed the silence more than he needed air. He needed to figure out who he was without the ghosts of the past clawing at him, dragging him back into the dark.

But then, there was her.

Y/N walked into my life when I wasn’t even looking. She wasn’t afraid of me like so many others were. She didn’t flinch at the sight of my metal arm, didn’t hesitate to stand by me when I thought I didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness.

She saw me. The real me.

I don’t know how she does it, but when Y/N looks at me, it’s like the weight of the world lifts off my shoulders. She makes me forget the noise—the whispers of those who doubt me, the accusations, the labels. All the liars fade into nothing when I look at her.

And she’s beautiful. God, she’s beautiful. She’s got this way about her, like she doesn’t even realize how much light she brings into a room. She’s fit like a daydream, moving through life with a kind of quiet strength that leaves me breathless.

Sometimes, I catch myself staring. It’s not just her smile or the way her eyes light up when she’s excited. It’s the little things—how her lips twitch when she’s trying not to laugh, or how she tilts her head when she’s listening to someone talk.

And she loves me. Not in the way people love an idea of someone, but the real me. She loves me like I’m someone brand new.

I don’t deserve her. I know that. I’ve made the same mistakes over and over, burned bridges I didn’t even try to fix. And maybe I’ll never learn, but at least I did one thing right: her.

One night, we were sitting by the fire. The compound was quiet for once, the kind of peaceful stillness I rarely experienced. She was leaning against my side, her hand brushing mine, and the words just slipped out before I could stop them.

“Would you run away with me?”

I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe it was because, for the first time in forever, I felt like I could breathe around her. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to share her with the rest of the world.

She turned to look at me, her eyes wide, searching my face for something. And then she smiled, this soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“Wherever you go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll follow.”

When you first met Bucky Barnes, you didn’t know what to expect. He was quiet, his head always down, like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He moved like he didn’t want anyone to notice him, but you did.

You saw him.

He had this way of making himself small, like he thought he didn’t deserve to take up space. But when he looked up, when those stormy blue eyes met mine, something shifted.

He’s the kind of person who hides his heart, but when he trusts you, it’s like being let into a secret. And somehow, you became the person he walked to.

Bucky isn’t what the world thinks he is. He’s kind, in ways people don’t notice. Like the way he remembers the little things—how you take my coffee, which books you like to read, even the songs you hum under my breath.

One night, when the compound’s heating system failed during a snowstorm, he built a fire just to keep you warm. He sat there for hours, feeding the flames, making sure you wouldn’t shiver.

It wasn’t just the fire, though. It was him. Always showing up, always caring in ways he didn’t think anyone noticed.

You started wearing his initial around your neck not long after that. A small silver chain with a simple charm. It wasn’t because he owned you or anything like that—it was because he knew you. Really knew you.

Bucky saw through all the walls you’d built around yourself. He saw the parts of you kept hidden, the pieces you thought no one would ever want. And he stayed.

One night, you sat by the fire again, the same warmth wrapping around you. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Would you run away with me?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words. He didn’t ask because he thought you needed saving or because he wanted to escape. He asked because, for the first time, he felt like we could have something that was just yours.

“Wherever you go,” you whispered, “I’ll follow.”

#taglist: @cjand10

[daddy-issues-galore]

Let me fly you to the moon... Chapter 9/?

<Chapter 8< / >Chapter 10>

Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, sexting/nudes, unprotected sex, sex in front of a mirror, use of sex toys, sir kink, accidently use of daddy

The smell of coffee, and the sound of Noel’s voice woke you. It took you a couple of minutes to wake, letting out a tired yawn as you stretched before slowly untangling yourself from the crumpled bedsheets. You scowled at the light coming in from the hallway, the headache you had screaming for the light to piss off. You rolled over to face the bedside table where you found a bottle of water along with some painkillers and a note; I’ll have breakfast waiting x

You smiled to yourself as you forced yourself to sit up, groaning as your aching muscles protested. Fuck, what did we do last night?

After taking the painkillers and drinking most of the water, you slipped out of bed and grabbed Noel’s wrinkled shirt from the floor. You assumed Noel must be on the phone as you could hear him talking but you couldn’t hear anyone else. You slipped the shirt on and began making your way downstairs, the sound of Noel’s voice getting louder the closer you got to the kitchen.

Noel’s bare feet patted heavily across the tiled floor as he paced back and forth, dragging his hand through his hair and held his phone to his ear with the other. “What the fuck are you on ‘bout?” Noel huffed, “It’s not some fuckin’ gimmick to get people talkin’ ‘bout me…” His patience was wearing thin. His manager had called him about half an hour ago to tell him about that morning’s headlines. They were all talking about the pair of you and ‘the show’ you had put on for them. “She’s not a fuckin’ groupie... I fuckin’ like her, ‘lright… No. Do not tell anyone her name…” Noel huffed again. “Yeah, I know it was reckless of us last night but so what? I’m allowed to go on dates with me bird, ain’t I... Ya’ know what, I’m done. Fuck off!” Noel shouted and hung up. He leaned against the counter and let out a frustrated breath. He was furious.

Some of the things that had been written about the pair of you was ridiculous, and they made you sound like you were some gold-digging tart.

“Noel?”

Noel stood up and turned around to face you as you walked into the kitchen. His anger quickly faded as he looked at you. His eyes ran down your body, taking in the sight of you in his shirt, fresh out of bed, it was a sight he was becoming rather fond of. “Morning, love.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You pulled back with your own smile, blushing as you did. “Morning... what was all the shouting ‘bout?” You asked looking around the room.

Noel sighed softly, “Coffee?” He asked hoping to change the subject and walked over to the coffee machine.

You let out a soft sigh and walked up to him. “What’s wrong?”

Noel shook his head not looking at you, “Nothing.”

“I heard ya’ on the phone, Noel.”

Noel let out a heavy sigh before looking at you. “It was me manager. Apparently, we’re all over the front pages.”

“Ah,” You wore a worried frown as you looked down, “How bad is it? Just another picture of you staring at my ass or-” Noel showed you his phone that had an article loaded, your eyes widened as you looked at it. “Oh… that’s more than my arse.”

There under the headline, ‘Handsy Gallagher; Noel all over his new girl.’ – was a picture of you and Noel leaving the restaurant. The pair of you looked very very drunk. You had your arm around his waist laughing at something as Noel said something in your ear with his hand on your backside.

“It’s not too bad, I guess.” You looked up to him.

Noel frowned, “There’s more, love.”

You groaned. “I’m too hungover to deal with anything.” You leaned over the counter and dropped your head into your hands.

“You don’t need to worry ‘bout it, love. No one knows your name and I’ve told me manager to put anyone straight about the whole ‘groupie’ thing.” He let out a small chuckle.

“And that’s all fine until someone I know sees the pictures and decides to make some quick money by talking to the papers.”

Noel frowned, “M’sorry, love.”

You shook your head, “It was bound to happen, right?” You looked down at Noel’s phone and pressed another article link.

‘AKA… What a night! for Noel Gallagher’ – There was a picture of you and Noel sat in the back of his car with his arm around your shoulders. You were practically sat in Noel’s lap as the pair of you made out, completely unaware of your surroundings.

You groaned and put his phone down. “We must have been mega drunk last night. Behavin’ like a couple of teenagers.”

Noel chuckled, “I warned you I wasn’t gonna keep me hands to myself.” He pressed a kiss to your temple before walking over to the fridge. “What you want for breakfast?” He asked.

You raised your eyebrow and turned around to face him as he looked in the fridge, just noticing he was only wearing a pair of boxers and an undershirt. You smirked to yourself as you admired his arse. “Thought you said you couldn’t cook?”

“I can manage a bacon sarnie.” He smirked at you over his shoulder.

You nodded, “Bacon sarnie it is then.” You smiled.

As Noel set about cooking the bacon, you sorted the bread and plates. The two of you moved around the kitchen with ease like it was something you’ve been doing for years.

Noel had decided to go ahead to tonight’s venue before you in hopes to distract the press that had been waiting outside his place all day so you wouldn’t have to deal with them. The plan was for you to get there an hour or so before the show started, so you had plenty of time to relax and get ready. You had planned on having a bath in the extremely large bathtub with a glass of wine but then you discovered something in your suitcase that you hadn’t noticed before.

There, hidden away in one of the pockets of your suitcase, sat your pink vibrator and the butt plug. You definitely didn’t put them there which meant it had to be Noel.

You shook your head with a smirk, “The little-” You let out a small giggle, an idea popping into your head as you flicked your vibrator on.

Noel stood on stage strumming his guitar. They’d just finished practising ‘If I Had a Gun’ and as the others were busy tuning their instruments, Noel was playing around with a guitar rift that had been stuck in his head for a few days. The sound of his phone pinging in his pocket interrupted him. He pulled his phone out and began grinning; it was you.

Y/n: You alone? X

Noel: I’m practising, love x

Y/n: Yeah, but anyone looking over your shoulder? X

Noel: No. Why? x

Noel’s eyes widened, quickly holding his phone to his chest as he looked around to see if there was anyone looking over his shoulder before he took another look at his phone. Naughty girl, Noel thought as he looked over the photo of you. Your legs were spread with your vibrator slipped inside your pussy. You were clearly laid in the middle of Noel’s bed with his shirt still on. Noel had to readjust himself behind his guitar as he looked around him again.

Noel: You found it then x

Y/n: And what were you planning on doin with it? X

Noel: Having some fun with you x

Another photo popped up. You’d replaced the vibrator with two of your fingers but this time there was a glimpse of the butt plug nestled between your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Noel moaned.

“Chief?”

Noel looked up and quickly slipped his phone back in his pocket. “I, uh, need the loo.” Noel spun around keeping his guitar in front of him until he was by the side of the stage. At that moment he didn’t care what happened to his beloved guitar as he all but dropped it because all that mattered was dealing with his hard on.

A couple of hours later you were walking down the corridor of the venue backstage alongside Noel’s PA who had met you by the front of the venue. You were giddy and not just because you were buzzin’ with excitement for the show. Noel had tried ringing you after you sent your second photo, but you were ‘busy’, so you didn’t answer. It was safe to say he was worked up and you were excited to see what he would do.

You followed Noel’s PA into the band dressing room, your smile widening as your eyes immediately met Noel’s from where he stood. You greeted the other’s, ignoring Russell’s joke as you and Noel walked towards each other. “Hello.” You smiled innocently up at him.

“Enjoy your afternoon alone?” Noel asked, his gaze dark as he stared down at you.

You hummed, “Very much… you?” You smirked.

Noel let out a small growl, “It was a bit… hard.”

You giggled and looked up as Tim walked up to you with a drink. You thanked him as you took it from him. You could feel Noel’s eyes on you as you took a swig of your drink. “What?” You asked looking up at him.

Noel shook his head with a grin, “Nowt.” He looked you up and down, his smile widening. “You look good in a skirt.” He licked his bottom lip. “Real good.”

You looked around the two of you to make sure no one was near you before you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “I’m still wearing it.” You giggled.

Noel’s eyes widened as he met your eyes, “Seriously?” You nodded biting your bottom lip. Noel gulped and quickly took your hand in his, dragging you out of the dressing room without a care.

Your feet struggled to keep up with his large strides as he led you to what must be his dressing room. He opened the door and practically pushed you inside making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager.” You teased and slowly stepped back into the room, dropping your bag on the floor as you did.

Noel grunted as he slammed the door shut behind him. “You’ve had me fuckin’ hard all day,” He said as he stalked closer to you. “With all your teasin’… I’ve been a fuckin’ mess.”

“That was the idea.” You grinned, “It’s your own fault, Mr Gallagher.”

Noel’s eyes darkened and his Adams apple bobbed as he gulped. There was something about the way you called him ‘Mr Gallagher’ that got to him. He closed the gap between you by grabbing a hold of your hips and crashing his lips against yours.

You let out a heavy moan and wrapped your arms around Noel’s shoulders, letting his tongue enter your mouth. He began walking you backwards until you hit the back of the sofa that sat in the room, the kiss not breaking until you needed to breath.

Noel pulled back with a smirk. “You’ve been a bad girl today, haven’t you?” You let out a giggle as Noel’s hands moved down and squeezed your backside through your skirt.

“It’s good to be bad sometimes.” You leaned up and kissed him. “Have you ever fucked a girl with one in?” You asked as you softly laid kisses under his jaw.

Noel gulped, “... No...” He closed his eyes as you ran your tongue over his Adams apple and back up to his jaw.

You pulled back with a smirk, “Then this is your treat...” You turned around and bent over the back of the sofa. “You said you wanted to fuck me in this, didn’t you?” You wiggled your backside with a giggle making Noel grin.

He gathered the hem if your skirt and pushed up to your hips, moaning at the sight if your backside covered in black lace and silk. “This that new lingerie?” He asked as he stared at your backside. He could just about see the silver butt plug through the lace. His hard cock twitching at the sight. He never realised how much of an arse guy he was until you.

You nodded, “Do you like it?”

Noel looked at you with a smirk. “Take this off.” He ordered as he tugged on your Fred Perry.

You let out an excited giggle as you quickly pulled it over your head. You went to turn around to face Noel but he stopped you, pressing his chest to your back as he reached up and grabbed your throat, holding your face forwards. Your eyes met his in the large mirror that sat on the wall opposite the sofa.

“Look at how fucking gorgeous you are, love.” Noel whispered against your ear. His right hand gently stroked up your stomach until he reached your lace covered breasts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect, baby doll.” Noel cupped your left breast and ran his thumb over your nipple.

“Please, Noel, stop teasing.”

Noel smirked against your ear, “It’s not nice, is it?” He said and pinched your nipple making you moan loudly.

“Fine then, don’t fuck me before you go on stage. I’ll go stand in the crowd and find someone who will.” You sassed trying to move away from him.

Noel’s hand around your throat tightened as he stared into your eyes through the mirror, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Yer mine. You understand? Yer fuckin’ mine.” You gulped and nodded, pressing your thighs together. “Say it.” Noel ordered.

“I’m yours, Noel.”

Noel turned your face towards him and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was hot and messy, rough, full of passion and something more. The thought of what that something more could be scared you.

You pulled back panting and licked your lips, needing to rid your head of the thoughts, “Are you goin’ to fuck me or what, Mr Gallagher?”

Noel rolled his eyes with a smirk and let go of you, making quick work of his belt. “Perhaps I should put that smart mouth of yours to better use instead of fuckin’ you senseless.” He dropped his trousers and boxers revealing his hard, throbbing cock, the sight made your mouth water. Noel pushed you back over the sofa and moved your panties to the side.

“Just do something- fuck,” You moaned loudly, quickly covering your mouth with your hand as Noel tugged on the butt plug. Your eyes screwed shut as he played with it.

“What was that, love?” You could hear the smugness in his voice.

A needy whimper fell from your lips, muffled by your hand as Noel slipped two of his fingers through your throbbing cunt.

“Not so fuckin’ gobby now, are ya’?” Noel teased, a smug grin on his lips as he stepped closer. He took his cock in hand and slowly rubbed the head of it through your wet folds. “I want everyone to hear you, yeah? Let them know who you belong to.” Your back arched as he rubbed his length a little firmer against you.

“Oh, gahd-”

“Fuck! Gonna fuck you so good, baby doll.” Noel moaned as his length slipped between your pussy, every inch of him getting coated in your juices. “Gonna fill you up, nice and full with my cock.” He groaned loudly as he grabbed your arse cheeks in his hands firmly, pulling them apart before he slowly slid his cock inside you.

The two of you moaned loudly in unison, Noel’s cock slowly inched inside of your cunt, sending shivers down your spine as it pressed against the butt plug. Noel’s eyes screwed shut as he tried to calm himself, the new feeling almost too much for him, but he’d be damned if he let this finish too soon.

Noel looked up into the mirror and met your already half lidded eyes. You were wrecked already. “You ‘kay, love?”

You nodded. “Please, Noel, move.” You panted, giving your hips a little wiggle making Noel hiss.

Noel began to move at a slow pace. He slipped his cock all the way in until his balls were flush against you. He paused for a moment, watching you in the mirror as you got lost in the pleasure before he began to pull back just as slow, squeezing a little tighter on your firm cheeks as he did so. He continued at this slow pace for a couple more thrust until you reached back and grabbed his left hand with yours.

“Faster, Noel. Please.” You begged, your eyes pleaded with his through the mirror.

Noel gulped and came to a stop, his cock once more fully inside you making you whimper, “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.” He worried.

You shook your head, panting, “You won’t... I trust you.” You gave him a soft smile, your fingers curling around his.

Noel nodded. He set of at a slow pace, gradually he began to move a little faster until he allowed himself to let lose, your pleasured moans spurring him on. “Fuck, baby.” Noel breathed deeply as he pushed harder into you sending another set of moans leaving your lips.

“God… daddy… s’good.” You cried out, lost in the pleasure.

Noel watched your reflection, his eyes focused on your breasts as they bounce with each thrust. He bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked your harder and faster. The sofa slowly began to scrap across the floor, the sound mixing with pleasured moans and heavy breathing.

“Yes! Oh God, yes!” You cried out loudly, the feeling of Noel bumping the butt plug inside your asshole as his cock moved in and out of your pussy made you feel amazing. “Shit! So close-“ you whimpered as you reached back and pressed your fingers against your clit.

Noel clenched his teeth as he felt you squeeze around his cock. “Fuck… Fuck… I-” Noel’s eyes closed tight as you came, your pussy squeezing his cock tighter. “Fuck!” Noel stilled as he cried out and came deep inside.

You let out a tired giggle as Noel collapsed over your back, his arms sliding around you as he did. Noel smirked against your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty skin.

“Uh, Noel,” You giggled as Noel hummed against your skin. “I can’t breathe.” You giggled.

“Shit. Sorry.” Noel slowly pushed himself up and carefully pulled out of you. Noel looked down between your legs and felt his cheeks flush as he watched his cum spill out of you. “Uh, there’s jm, towels and stuff in there if you want to clean up.” Noel nodded to the small bathroom that was in his dressing room.

You blushed and nodded, carefully walking over, closing the door behind you. You faced the large mirror and just stared at your reflection. What the fuck. A smile curled at your lips as you thought about what had just happened.

You quickly set about cleaning up, redressing yourself and removing the butt plug before you headed back out to where Noel was sat on the sofa that was still in the same place you had left it, the thought why making you blush even more. Noel had also redressed and was sat on his phone. He looked up with a smile, his eyes falling to the butt plug that sat in your hand and began blushing too. You bit your bottom lip as you walked over to join him on the sofa and grabbed your bag from where you had dropped it.

Noel cleared his throat as you put it away. “That’s not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to have some fun with ya’.” Noel smirked.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Did you want to use it?”

Noel’s eyes widened comically making you laugh. “What? No.” He scoffed all flustered.

You laughed harder, “M’sorry. Your face… Fuck, you’re cute when you get flustered.” You said making Noel blush even more. “M’sorry,” You turned in your seat to face him, throwing your legs over his. “What did you mean?”

Noel rolled his eyes trying not to smile as he placed his hand on your knee and stroked his hand along your thigh. “I just meant, in bed. But this was fuckin’ way better.” Noel winked at you making you grin.

[inktr0vert]

hi! i just saw your recent ask from Birdie about commissions. i wanted to 1) tell you how proud it made me feel to see you be so candid about your mental health & 2) echo her sentiment that i would love to commission a piece from you someday if you were ever in the headspace to do so. you are so incredibly talented.

in the same way that i’ve spent thousands of dollars on art in the form of tattoos, your art is beautiful and valuable enough to spend money on. i’m not saying this to try to, like, persuade you to ever take commissions. i just felt the need to verbally express how floored i am by your art. my tattoo artist occasionally needs to be shaken/reminded how incredible she is sometimes, and i feel like you can just never hear it enough, especially when you’re struggling.

i profoundly relate to your struggles with bipolar/simply just existing. i see you. & i just wanted to be another voice temporarily speaking over the deafening bad thoughts in your mind.

if you ever want to scream into the abyss at a bipolar stranger on the internet, my DMs are always open 🖤

i hope you’re having a good day

Hi there :)

1--I am tired of feeling ashamed for being me. Fuck shame. I think that's why I still act like I'm 13--that's the last time I felt unashamed of everything I am. So I'm done feeling bad for who I am. *I* think I'm pretty fucking cool. So does my husband and my beautiful kiddo. So yeah. Fuck shame <3

In regards towards my mental health vs shame, I had an epiphany:

There is nothing wrong with me.

And the world is wrong for telling me otherwise.

We are all different. And that's not always a bad thing.

2--With all of this self-discovery shit, I'm realizing that I am worthy of so much more than I let myself believe. That I have allowed others to convince me that I am a nuisance, that I am incompetent, that I do not deserve love, praise, or that I shouldn't even be allowed to exist. By the by, someone telling you that you aren't worthy of being alive feels pretty shitty. Don't let those people in your life. Run away. Run away and warn the others, jesus fucking christ.

ANWAYS. I think I may work towards commissions.

I always thought it sounded fun, tried it out, but I pressure myself too much--what if they don't like it? what if they don't want to pay that much? what if my art is trashfire kindling and everyone that's ever complimented my art is a dirty dirty liar that wants to see me fall flat on my face?

And most importantly: What if it's not perfect? What if the eyes are off, or the anatomy is 'wrong', or it's not the EXACT thing I pictured it to be in my mind?

Newer motto (still under construction): Fuck perfectionism. What a stupid cage to lock yourself into. Working on unshackling myself. Have been KINDLY (*this is important) reminding myself whenever my thoughts head down that path to redirect back towards the joyous parts of creativity. And it's been going pretty good. Slow, but making progress.

So yeah! Rambling coming to a close. Thank you for being another positive voice in my head to help fight away the void that other's have created. And for being that for a fellow tattoo artist as well <3

I think I should create a discord group called "screaming into the void" and invite all of you wonderful humans that have invited me for private sessions to join. We can all caterwaul into the abyss together XD

I hope you are having a good day as well. Be kind to yourself <3

[penfz]

A Hard Lesson

SukunaXFemReader (Modern AU)

Summary: The Itadori's are faced with a heartbreaking question from Aika, and it's up to them to answer in the best and most truthful way possible.

A/N: Please always remember, you're good enough <3

Sukuna X FemReader Masterlist

Yuji stood there, Aika’s question catching her off guard. She was already in tears as she asked her question, a situation that she had created in her mind to be true. Cause it had to be true, right? Cause why else would things be the way they are?

“Yuji-“ Sukuna called as he headed to his brother’s room. He needed to know what the 2 brats wanted for dinner. But Aika’s cries made him pause at the doorway. Did Yuji make her cry? That’s kind of unlike him. “Suku- nii.” Yuji began to tear up. “I don’t know what to do.”

… wtf. Sukuna didn’t even know what was happening, why Aika was crying and why Yuji was about to cry himself.

He placed a hand on Yuji’s head, signaling that everything will be ok. And then picked up Aika, consoling the child as he did Yuji when they were younger.

“So?” Sukuna pressed. He didn’t need to say that one of them better explain why the fcuk they were crying. “Um, Aika had a question.” Yuji mentioned, a sadness seeping through his voice. “And I didn’t know how to answer.” His voice ended in a whisper. “What question?” Sukuna continued, now looking at Aika. But the poor girl didn’t want to answer, wiping her tears as she didn’t want to upset Sukuna.

“Aika.” Sukuna pressed once more. He wasn’t going to repeat his question, something Yuji already knew and Aika was starting to learn.

With one more sniffle, she asked the question that had broke the younger Itadori’s heart.

“Suki, does my dad not like me?” “Why are you asking that?” Sukuna’s expression turning flat, it wasn’t a question he wanted to answer. Cause screw him! LOL “Cause everyone else in my class has a dad, but not me.” “Did someone in class say that your dad doesn’t like you?” Sukuna questioned. And when Aika didn’t answer and simply looked down to the floor, he mentally promised her that whoever their parents were, will not be having a child anymore.

Which isn’t a nice thing to say, so he didn’t say it outloud Lol

“Don’t listen to them.” Was the poorest advice Sukuna could honestly say. But what else was he allowed to say? He barely knew the situation with you and your ex, only that he chose to not be in the picture anymore. And you were were fine with that. “Suku-nii.” Yuji whispered, as if reprimanding him. Yuji? The younger brother, reprimanding him? Ha!

Sukuna simply grimaced at Yuji. He understood that the advice he gave was simply terrible, especially for someone Aika’s age. But he didn’t want to overstep boundaries for Aika wasn’t his child, he didn’t want to overstep and make you upset.

But to Sukuna, there was something he wanted to say on the matter.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you.” Sukuna started, catching Yuji by surprise when he continued. Aika simply sat there. “He just doesn’t deserve you.” “Deserve me?” Aika questioned. She didn’t really understand. Maybe he meant like how her mom would ask her if she deserved icecream after not finishing her homework. “Yeah.” Sukuna answered, how does he explain it in terms Aika would understand? “If you’re not good, then do you think you deserve rewards for it?” “No.” Aika answered, tears about to slip through. But she won’t cry in front of Sukuna, she refuses too! But she already did… “If your dad chooses not to see you, is that nice?” Sukuna continued. “No.” Aika sniffled, she was so close to crying again. “Then do you think your dad who chooses not to see you, deserves you?” “No.” Aika let her tears fall.

Aika was so confused in wanting to be a good daughter by loving both parents. But truthfully, because she didn’t see her dad, doesn’t truly know him, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to love him. Was she supposed to give him the same love she gives Sukuna? Cause Gojo said it was ok to write her homework that one time on Father’s Day about Sukuna. He treated her nicely, helped her with her homework when Yuji or you couldn’t. Fed her all her favourite things and took her to her favourite places, all with Yuji by her side. Sukuna deserved her love, deserved her. Was she supposed to love her dad like how she loves Sukuna?

Maybe she should ask you or Gojo about that.

And truthfully. Sukuna loved Aika just as much as he loved Yuji, just as much as he would love his own child.

And perhaps the love that Aika kept for her dad, perhaps Sukuna deserved it more than her dad.

“Mommy!” Aika suddenly screamed, her tears getting harder as she screamed for you.

Yuji and Sukuna jumped, this was so unexpected. The Itadori brothers thought that Sukuna’s little speech was good, surprisingly.

And it was good. Aika was only now confused on who deserved her love, on who deserved her. She needed to ask you, to Aika you had all the answers, you’re her mom after all.

But where were you during this little crisis?

Stuck outside the front door waiting for one of the brothers to answer the door, that’s where.

It didn’t even dawn on any of them that you’re probably close by until Yuji’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Yuji answered carefully, Aika was still crying. “Hey Yuji, I’m outside… is Aika crying?” You questioned as you could hear her in the background.

Yuji froze for a moment, would you be mad knowing your daughter was crying?

“Yeah…” Yuji answered slowly. “I’ll come open the door.”

And with that, Yuji quickly exited the room, leaving Sukuna with a crying Aika.

“Hey…” Yuji said carefully, opening the door. He wasn’t sure how you would react to news of your daughter crying. “Hi Yuji.” You answered… pretty cheerfully too. Wtf? Did she not just hear her daughter crying? “So where’s Aika?” “With Suku- nii upstairs in my room.” Yuji admitted. “I’m sorry Y/N-“ “For what?” You asked confused? “Did you make Aika cry?” “No, but-“ “And I doubt Sukuna did too.” You answered with a small smile. “It’s fine Yuji, just tell me what happened.”

So Yuji began to explain how Aika’s sudden question had stumped him, and how Sukuna tried his very best to comfort her. But in the end, his words didn’t seem to affect her.

“Is that all?” You questioned, that gentle smile never leaving your face. “Yeah.” Yuji answered, he was relieved he wasn’t in trouble. But he still felt bad for Aika crying. “And between me and you.” You said just before heading upstairs to Yuji’s room, making Yuji look up at you. “Aika’s father is a real piece of work. The reason she doesn’t see him is actually his own fault, he chose that. So Sukuna’s right when he said that he doesn’t deserve Aika.”

With that, Yuji’s big smile returned to his face, realizing you agreed with his big brother.

You gently knocked on Yuji’s door, even though it was wide open. Sukuna and Aika immediately made eye contact with you, causing Aika to crawl out of Sukuna’s grasp to get to you.

You scooped Aika into your arms, and into a big hug. Her tears were now dry, but her eyes red and puffy. And there sat Sukuna, still on Yuji’s bed, taking in the scene before him.

“Aww my sweet pea, you were crying.” You cooed at your daughter, Aika burying her face into your neck and shoulder. “Did Suki make you feel better though?”

And you felt a gentle nod against your neck, making you smile.

“He did? Suki is always so good to you darling, isn’t he.” You continued, a gentle smile on your face as you hugged Aika. Sukuna couldn’t help the way his heart beat in his chest, and his cheeks turn pink. Wtf, why do you always make him feel this way?! All cause you acknowledged his actions towards your daughter.

“You know, there’s someone downstairs who also probably feels sad, cause you were sad.” You mentioned, causing Aika to lift her head. “Yuji is also sad, because you were sad. Why don’t you go make him feel better like how Suki did.”

Instantly, Aika was wiggling her way out of your arms, holding back her tears once again. As she made it her goal to make sure Yuji was ok. And off she was running down the stairs.

“Don’t run brat!” Sukuna yelled.

And there Aika was, now walking down the stairs cause she got yelled at.

You laughed.

“I heard what you said to her.” You confirmed to Sukuna’s dread. Of course Yuji most likely told you when you were let in. You’re probably going to tease him about being a softie. As if you don’t already know. “It’s whatever. Brat was crying about some deadbeat.” Sukuna answered back, that gruff tone reappearing. “Yeah he is a deadbeat.” You laughed. “She has you and Yuji though.”

Sukuna could no longer hear it, the sadness in your voice whenever you spoke about Aika not having a relationship with her father. It was like it never existed. Instead your tone, your words, they were grateful. They were kind. They were loving.

“Be nice if she had a sibling though.” You casually mentioned, a smirk on your face as you eyed Sukuna.

Sukuna almost choked on air.

“Don’t fcukin’ temp me brat.” Sukuna answered back, walking out of Yuji’s room. You closely following behind, laughing out loud.

Cause how would he know, how serious you were about that.

Extra:

“You don’t deserve to cry Yuyu cause I was crying.” A small but serious tone said.

You and Sukuna only looked at each other before peeking around the corner to the living room. There was Yuji gently smiling at Aika, who stood before him, holding his hand in such a serious way.

Wtf is going on…? And why did she say it that way?

“I’m sorry Yuyu, for making you cry. But you don’t deserve to cry.” Aika continued.

Yuuji was trying not to laugh, Aika was getting her words wrong. And figured out that Aika was probably copying Sukuna’s kind words.

“Don’t worry Aika, I’m ok.” Yuuji grinned. “Want to watch that new movie you asked about? I found it streaming.”

“Yeah!” Aika was excited.

You laughed at the change of Aika’s mood and words.

“Almost seems like she was mocking you Suki.” You teased, to which Sukuna groaned. He swears, this family doesn’t take him seriously!