#like we got completely different things from this song for them and i love it. i love that i have new things to think about

[cheftsunoda]

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

part four

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

max verstappen x hamilton reader

part one here

part two here

part three here

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

fc : tyla

—

The hum of the jet had long since faded from my ears, but the weight of Sophie’s words still clung to my shoulders like a silk shawl. Not heavy. Just… present. How she felt the exact same way when expecting Max.

Monaco shimmered beneath us as we landed — sun-glinted buildings hugging the cliffs, the sea lazily curling against the marina. It felt good to be home. Familiar. But also, completely different.

Max carried our bags into the apartment while I stood in the doorway, staring at the faint impression of the sea through our balcony windows.

“You okay?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Just… readjusting.”

He kissed my cheek and didn’t push further.

Later, when he ducked out for groceries and a coffee run — insisting I rest after the travel — I finally opened the drawer.

It had been sitting there for weeks. A single, unopened pregnancy test, hidden beneath old passport covers and receipts I never threw out. I’d bought it on a whim after a late period two months ago… which had turned out to be nothing.

Until now.

Until this feeling I couldn’t shake.

I took it without thinking. On autopilot. The kind of instinct that felt terrifying and grounded all at once.

Five minutes passed.

I didn’t look until the timer buzzed.

Two lines.

Two very clear, very pink lines.

I sank onto the edge of the tub, the test still clutched in my hand, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Positive.

A breath slipped out of me like a gasp. Not panic. Not fear. Something else. Wonder. Shock. Joy. All tangled together like chords in a song I didn’t know the words to yet.

Max came home twenty minutes later, his arms full of fresh fruit and oat milk and the fancy sparkling water I liked.

“I got the rosemary crackers you love,” he called out from the kitchen. “They had them back in stock.”

I stepped out, the test now hidden behind my back, my eyes wide and still a little dazed.

He paused mid-unpacking when he saw me.

“Yana?” His brow furrowed as he came closer. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t say anything at first. Just slowly held out the test.

His eyes flicked down. Then up to me.

Silence.

Then a breathless, stunned, “Is that—?”

I nodded, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s positive.”

For a second, Max just stood there, frozen — like his brain was rebooting.

Then he crossed the room in two strides, cupped my face with both hands, and kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him breathing.

When he pulled back, his voice cracked. “We’re having a baby?”

I laughed through my tears. “Yeah. We are.”

And there, in our quiet Monaco apartment, the groceries forgotten on the counter, Max wrapped me in his arms and held me like the whole world had just shifted — and for once, it was shifting in the right direction.

—

sos lana— i need you. now.

hoppin on a flight asap mamas. be there soon !!

That is always how Solana was, she drop anything she was doing if i needed her—no questions asked. She has been my rock for many years. That woman is 100% angel.

As soon as her SUV arrived at my front door and she hopped out of the back— she instantly embraced me.

“Let’s go talk, my pretty girl.” She hummed and held my hand as we entered mine and Max’s shared home. Max had to go do some press nonsense for the day so he wasn’t here.

We walked back to the studio and took a seat on the couch, the test was an eyesore on the table. Solana’s eyes went wide and then she smirked.

“I knew something was different,” Solana said, as she stared at the test, lying between a half-eaten bowl of fruit and an open laptop full of demo tracks.

“You didn’t know,” I mumbled, sitting down next to her on the couch.

“Girl, please. You’ve been turning down wine, falling asleep during playbacks, and don’t think I didn’t notice how you gagged when that sushi tray came in last week.”

I let out a soft laugh, nervous and warm. “Okay, okay. So maybe you knew.”

Solana turned to face me fully, legs crossed, her expression shifting from dramatic to tender in seconds. “But for real, Yana… a baby?”

I nodded, tears slipping down before I even meant for them to. “Yeah. I took the test yesterday— once we got home. His mum had talked me into it. Max was…” I smiled a little. “Honestly? He was beautiful about it.”

She reached over, took my hand. “You good? Like, really good?”

“I’m terrified,” I admitted, voice low. “And excited. And overwhelmed. But… I feel really loved. And ready. In a weird way.”

Solana squeezed my fingers. “You’re gonna be the coolest mom alive. That baby’s already got royalty in its blood — music royalty and that um race car chaos.”

I laughed harder than I had in days. “Oh god, I haven’t even thought about what this kid’s life will look like.”

“Fast. And loud.”

“You’re gonna be the best auntie ever.” I said and she smiled.

“I am going to spoil this kid and love it every single day like it’s my own. I’m so happy for you love.” She said pulling me close and leaving a small kiss on my cheek.

We both grinned. But then, the thought I’d been avoiding dropped between us like a cymbal crash.

“Sol…”

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell Lewis.”

Her smile faltered. “Oof. Right.”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. A mutual understanding. My big brother was my best friend… but also famously overprotective, sometimes stubborn, and very much unaware that not only had I been dating his championship rival — I’d married him — and was now pregnant with his child.

“He’s either going to cry or destroy a punching bag,” I muttered.

Solana raised an eyebrow. “Why not both?”

I sank deeper into the couch. “I wanted to tell him for so long. But I didn’t want him to think I was choosing Max over him. It’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s not,” Solana said softly. “He’ll get there. It might take him a second, but he loves you. And he loves hard.”

“I know.”

A pause.

“Maybe I ease him into it,” I said slowly, trying to think it through. “Like… dinner first. Alone. Somewhere quiet.”

“And maybe leave out the ‘married for over a year’ part until dessert?” Solana offered.

I snorted. “I was thinking the same.”

She grinned, then leaned over to hug me tight.

“We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Outside the studio, the sun was starting to set, casting amber light over the quiet Monaco skyline.

Inside, I felt the beginnings of a plan. The fear was still there, sure — but it was softened by the people around me. The people who knew me. Who would walk through this next chapter with me, no matter how chaotic it got.

And soon… Lewis would know, too.

—

prepare for the worst, kid. shouldn’t have crossed me.

This was the last text Max had received before he went to bed that night. He ignored it, assuming it was just a bluff— however, it was not.

It was just past midnight when my phone buzzed again — an alert from one of those celebrity gossip accounts I usually scrolled past without a second thought.

But this one had my name on it.

“RUMORS SWIRL: Is Lewis Hamilton’s sister MARRIED to MAX VERSTAPPEN?”

I stared at it, heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

There, in grainy detail, was a paparazzi shot of Max and me from earlier in the week — leaving our building in Monaco. My hoodie was oversized. I was holding my stomach. Probably out of habit. Probably without realizing what it looked like.

But the headline wasn’t just speculative.

It referenced “an exclusive tip from a source close to the Verstappen family.”

My hands shook as I tapped through. The article mentioned “whispers of a secret pregnancy” and that “the marriage has caused friction within the Verstappen family.” It didn’t name Jos, but it didn’t have to. I knew. Max would know too.

I shot up from bed, grabbing the phone and heading straight to the living room where Max was still up watching late-night highlights.

He looked up immediately. “Everything okay—?”

I tossed the phone on the coffee table.

He read it once. Then again.

His jaw tightened. “It’s my dad.”

“I know.”

Max stood slowly, hands on his hips, pacing once before stopping. “He said something before we left. About how this,” he gestured to the apartment, “wasn’t sustainable. That keeping secrets always backfires.”

“Max,” I said carefully, “he’s trying to force your hand.”

He looked at me, eyes stormy but controlled. “He doesn’t get to decide how or when we share our life. Especially not with your brother.”

A beat of silence.

Then we both looked at each other with the same panicked realization.

“Lewis,” I whispered. “He’s going to see this. Tomorrow morning. Or worse — in like, ten minutes.”

Max’s face drained. “Yana—”

I was already dialing Solana.

She picked up on the second ring. “What’s wrong?”

“We have a situation,” I said, already pulling on jeans and a hoodie. “I need you to meet us at the studio. Now.”

—

Solana read the headline out loud, slowly, like saying it aloud would make it easier to process. Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Okay. We’ve got two options: damage control, or full honesty. But you can’t outrun a leak like this. If Lewis finds out from Instagram…”

“I know,” I said, voice tight. “We have to get to him first. Today. Like, first thing in the morning.”

Max nodded. “He deserves the truth from us. Not from gossip.”

Solana rubbed her temples. “So, we’re not sleeping then?”

“Nope,” I said. “We plan. We go over what we’re going to say. How we say it. We meet him in person — no texts, no calls. I want to look him in the eye when I tell him.”

“And if he loses it?” Solana asked gently.

“Then he loses it,” I said. “But at least it’ll be with me. Not alone on his phone, blindsided.”

Max reached over and laced his fingers through mine. “We’ll do this together.”

Solana grabbed a notepad. “Okay. First things first: we draft exactly what you want to say. Then we figure out where to meet him and how to keep him from punching anyone.”

“I vote for a public café,” Max deadpanned.

We all laughed, even if it was shaky.

And so, as the sky began to lighten outside the studio windows, we wrote it down. Every word. Every angle. Not as a script — but as a promise.

Tomorrow morning, I would tell my brother the truth.

Because it was time.

And because he deserved to hear it from me — not a headline.

—

Max, Solana and I did damage control all night —having all of our PR teams contact these sources and having as much removed from the internet as possible. It relieved some of my anxiety but there are some rumors still floating around.

We met at his favorite spot — a tucked-away café overlooking the harbor, early enough that the city hadn’t fully woken up yet. Just the way Lewis liked it. Quiet. Unbothered.

Solana had insisted on driving me and Max had kissed my forehead before I left, whispering, “No matter how this goes, I’ve got you. We’ve got us.”

I spotted Lewis before he saw me — hoodie up, sunglasses on, sipping something green from a glass bottle and tapping through his phone.

“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat across from him.

He looked up, softened immediately. “Hey, sis.”

My stomach twisted. I wasn’t used to lying to him — not like this. Not for so long. And especially not about something that mattered this much.

We ordered, made small talk. I was barely listening, my pulse too loud in my ears. I was waiting for the right moment, the right words.

It didn’t come.

So I made one.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said finally, fingers wrapped tight around my mug.

Lewis sat up straighter. “Alright. You’re scaring me.”

I took a breath. “You know how I told you I was seeing someone? A while ago?”

He nodded, cautious now.

“Well… I wasn’t just seeing him. We’re… married.”

His brows lifted in slow motion. “You what?”

“And I’m pregnant.”

The words tumbled out. Gentle. Honest. No buildup left. Just truth.

Lewis blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait. Married? And pregnant?”

I nodded, heart pounding. “I wanted to tell you. So many times. But I was scared. Not because I thought you wouldn’t love me — I know you do. But because I didn’t want you to feel like I chose someone else over you.”

He was still staring, as if his brain was buffering.

“Who?” he asked finally. “Who is it?”

I swallowed. “Max.”

Silence.

Actual, pin-drop, earthquake-silencing silence.

Lewis took off his sunglasses slowly, setting them on the table like he needed both eyes to comprehend what I’d just said.

“Max Verstappen?”

“Yes.”

“The Max Verstappen?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It just… did. And then it kept happening. And he loves me. Really loves me.”

Lewis sat back in his chair, hands on the table, jaw tense. “So, let me get this straight. You married him. Secretly. And now you’re having a baby. And I find out from you five minutes before the rest of the world?”

“No,” I said firmly. “You’re finding out before the rest of the world. Because a story just leaked this morning. From his dad.. Our PR team worked all night to destroy the evidence but I didn’t want you to see the remains floating around.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, then let out a long breath.

“I’m mad,” he said. “Not because you love someone — not even because it’s him. But because I wasn’t there for the biggest moment of your life. Because I didn’t get to be your brother in that.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my throat thick. “So, so sorry. I hate that I kept it from you. I hate that you’re finding out this way. But I love him, Lewis. And I want you to know him — really know him. The version I see. The one who makes me feel safe and understood and never small.”

Lewis looked at me for a long moment. His expression unreadable. Then he exhaled, leaned forward, and reached across the table.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “You’re still my sister. And if you’re in this — if this is your person — then I’ll figure out how to be okay with it.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “And I love you too. Even when you do dumb dramatic things like marry your brother’s rival in secret.”

I laughed — shaky — and he finally cracked a smile too.

“Tell Max,” Lewis said, reaching for his bottle again, “that if he ever hurts you, I will find a way to disqualify him from life.”

“Noted.”

“And Yana?” he added, eyes soft now. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.”

I nodded, tears still coming. “You’re going to be the best one.”

—

The call came in on a Thursday. Max didn’t answer it.

He didn’t answer the second or third, either.

By the time the fourth one came, he was pacing out private balcony in Monaco, jaw tight, fingers flexing at his sides. I sat inside, watching him with worried eyes, but knowing better than to interrupt. This was his storm to walk through.

Finally, he picked up.

“You leaked it.”

Jos’s voice crackled on the other end. “It was going to come out eventually.”

“But not like this!” Max snapped, loud enough that a gull lifted off the railing in alarm. “It wasn’t your story to tell, and it sure as hell wasn’t your place.”

“I did what I had to do,” Jos replied, unmoved. “This is a distraction. You’ve lost focus. The secrecy, the lies — it’s not sustainable, Max. You need to get your head back in the game.”

Max let out a bitter laugh. “You think love is a distraction? She’s the only reason I’m still sane through this circus.”

“She’s Hamilton’s sister. How do you expect that to end well?”

Max’s voice dropped, low and lethal. “It already has. We’re married. She’s pregnant. And whether you approve or not, she’s my family now. Which means you either get in line, or get out of the way.”

Silence.

“You’re choosing her over me?”

“No,” Max said. “I’m choosing me. For once. My peace. My future. You taught me how to race, but you never taught me how to be happy. She did that.”

Jos scoffed. “You’re emotional. Give it time. This will crash and burn.”

“You’re wrong,” Max said, jaw clenched. “This is the only thing in my life that won’t.”

More silence. Heavy. Final.

“Goodbye,” Max said, and ended the call.

He stood still for a moment, breathing hard, eyes on the sea.

Then he turned and stepped back inside, straight into my arms. I didn’t say a word — just held him, fingers sliding up the back of his neck.

“Did you say what you needed to say?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Max murmured against my hair. “And for the first time, I think I actually meant every word.”

We had drawn a line in the sand.

—

Max had never been nervous to face another man before. Not on track. Not in a press conference. Not even when his own father loomed too close.

But standing outside the private gym in Monaco, waiting for Lewis Hamilton to finish his cooldown routine, Max could feel his palms sweat. His heart raced — not from fear, but from the weight of what this moment meant.

The door swung open.

Lewis stepped out, towel slung over his shoulder, hoodie damp at the collar.

He saw Max.

Stopped.

Didn’t speak.

Max stood straighter. “Thanks for meeting me.”

Lewis let the silence stretch.“Didn’t do it for you.”

Fair.

Max nodded. “I just wanted to—”

“You married my sister in secret,” Lewis cut in. “You kept it quiet for a year and a half. You let me talk about her, worry about her, protect her — all while lying to my face.”

Max’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t fire back. Not yet. “I didn’t plan for it to happen that way.”

“But you let it happen that way,” Lewis snapped. “You had chances. Plenty.”

“I know.”

“And now she’s pregnant.”

“I know,” Max said again, softer this time. “And I love her. I swear to you, Lewis — I love her with everything I’ve got.”

Lewis shook his head. “You don’t get points for that. Loving her is the bare minimum. You married into this family — you better understand what that means.”

“I do,” Max said. “And I didn’t come here to win you over. I came to tell you that I know I hurt you. That I’m sorry. But I won’t apologize for loving her. For choosing her.”

Lewis stared at him, unreadable. “You want to prove you’re good enough for her?”

Max didn’t blink. “Yes.”

“Then protect her,” Lewis said. “Not just from the media. From the world. From your father. From you, if it ever comes to that.”

“It won’t,” Max said quickly.

Lewis stepped closer, eyes locked on his. “Good. Because if you ever make her feel small — if you ever let her cry herself to sleep — I won’t come at you with words.”

Max nodded. “Understood.”

They stood there for a moment. Opponents, always. But now bound by something deeper. Not a truce — not yet — but the start of one.

Lewis finally looked away, let out a long breath. “She’s happy. I can see that. Which pisses me off a little more, honestly.”

Max almost smiled. “She makes me happy, too.”

“Just don’t forget that she’s my baby sister.”

“I don’t,” Max said. “And I never will.”

Lewis gave a short nod. Then, without another word, turned and walked toward his car.

Max watched him go.

It wasn’t forgiveness — not yet.

But it was a door that hadn’t been there before.

And that was enough. For now.

—

ayanaaa

england 📍

liked by lando, sza, lewishamilton & 8,385,278 others.

ayanaaa : back home with my babes

sza : love you to the moon and back mamas

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lewishamilton : ❤️❤️

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—

The car ride to Hertfordshire felt longer than usual — maybe because every mile brought us closer to the conversation.

Max was behind the wheel, stoic but quiet, his hand resting on the gear shift. Lewis sat up front, arms folded, his sunglasses on despite the clouds. And Solana — goddess of calm, chaos, and clutch support — was beside me in the back, sipping a green juice and humming like this wasn’t about to be the biggest reveal of my life.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“Define okay,” I muttered.

“You’re breathing, you look beautiful, and you’re about to deliver life and chaos into your mother’s living room. That’s ‘okay’ in my book.”

I smiled, even as my stomach twisted.

We pulled up to the house I grew up in, with the hydrangeas still blooming along the fence and the kitchen window slightly cracked open — like it had always been.

Max grabbed my hand before I got out. “No matter what happens in there, we walk out together.”

“Always,” I whispered back.

Inside, my mum was already in hostess mode — hugging us, ushering us in, asking why Lewis had brought “a whole entourage” with him.

“You know Solana,” Lewis said casually. “And Max… is here to support Ayana.”

Mum blinked at Max for a beat. “I know who he is. I watched the Grand Prix.”

Dad looked up from the newspaper and raised a brow. “Didn’t you two almost crash that race?”

“Small world,” Max muttered.

Solana snorted and quickly turned it into a cough.

We sat in the living room, tea and biscuits passed around, the tension growing louder than the quiet music playing from Mum’s favorite speakers.

I cleared my throat. “So… there’s something I need to tell you. Actually, a few things.”

My mother tilted her head, sensing something. “You’re not quitting music, are you?”

“No,” I said, heart hammering. “It’s… Max and I — we’re married.”

The silence that followed was exactly what I feared. Not anger. Not shouting.

Just a pause.

My dad slowly put down his tea. “I beg your pardon?”

“We got married in Vegas. Last year.”

Mum blinked twice. “As in… secret, no family, no announcement?”

I nodded.

Then added, “And I’m pregnant.”

At that, Mum stood. “Lord have mercy.”

“Mum,” Lewis interjected, surprisingly calm. “I only found out two days ago. I was shocked too. But I’ve met them where they are. And I think you should, too.”

She looked between us all — her children, Max, and Solana with her hand subtly resting over mine.

“You’ve always done things your own way,” she said finally, looking at me. “And I’ve always trusted you’d find your way. But baby… marriage? A baby?”

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” I said, voice shaking now. “I was scared. I didn’t want it to be a thing about racing or rivalry or… drama. I just wanted it to be about love.”

Dad finally spoke. “Does he love you?”

Max stood up slowly. “With everything I have.”

Dad stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded once. “Then we’ll deal with the rest.”

Mum wiped at her eyes, the tears finally showing. “I wanted to be there for your wedding.”

I crossed the room in two steps and wrapped her in a hug. “You’ll be there for the rest of it. Every part.”

Solana whispered to Lewis, “Not the worst reaction, huh?”

Lewis smirked. “You didn’t grow up with her Christmas expectations.”

We all laughed — shaky but real. Like the ice had cracked just enough to let some warmth in.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was a beginning.

And for a moment, surrounded by family, I finally felt like all of the worlds I was balancing were starting to fit together.

—

p4 completeeeee— secret is semi out. as always requests are always open and hope you like. my time at the Miami gp was so amazing.

also i was think of doing a question and answer thing if you guys would like to get to know me— lmk!

tag : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505 , @hc-dutch , @lost4lyrics , @angelluv16 @dilflover44

[brujaluas]

How will your spouse see you after you start dating/get married with them?

(I have to say that I'm obsessed with the whole aesthetic of Nosferatu and The Phantom of the Opera, besides being completely fascinated by the films I've seen, I'm fascinated by the talent and beauty of the actresses, I want to live that lol)

pile 1

they will love your free and adventurous spirit, you are the same, but you are at different stages of life, one is more mature than the other, but the two of you will be a perfect match, it is as if your spouse were singing that song "Is somebody gonna match my freak?", and you answer "I definitely will", some of you here were more stuck in themselves, but you will give the person the opportunity to understand that they can also have fun, go to parties and things like that, you will become a very lively and friendly couple <3

pile 2

we have the obsessed ones in this pile, but not in a bad way, they will see you as the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars in their sky, they are very romantic and devoted to you, it reminds me of the song Religion by Lana del Rey, the moon can be important here, I don't know why, maybe they would ask the moon for giving somebody like you, and they got! they will want kiss your skin under the moonlight, as mentioned, they see you almost as a religion, and they are still very proud of you, that you may be younger than them or somehow have this more youthful air than them, and you will achieve so many things and they will be happy for you, it also reminds me of those old couples in love that we saw in funny cartoons.

pile 3

as the queen of their lives, regardless of gender, it is as if you rule their lives, some may idealize you too much in some way and put you on a pedestal. you are in the same moment in life, but you have different personalities and ways of dealing with things, and they like that, it is as if the difference that you have from each other made them more passionate and enchanted, sometimes, for the most part, differences drive people apart, but in this relationship it will only add up.

[likelysobbing]

𖥻 FOR THE STREETS. paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: baby, what’s meant for the streets will never be yours.

notes: based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ — made mainly because i wanted more paige angst on my feed . so like, give me my angst. might write a part two if this gets enough attention . the synopsis and overall theme is like a genuine LYRIC from the song btw. lastly. this is fiction guys this is completely NOT paige paige would never do this and i will not knock on wood three times when i say that because WE ALL KNOW PAIGE WOULD NEVER DO THIS. chill on me for a moment you guys …. (PART 2 HERE: STUNNED)

cw: once again, based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ so you KNOW it’s notorious player!paige, angst lowkey no comfort besides the fact that reader now hates paige’s guts, INFIDELITY + MENTIONS OF ORAL: paige gets head from a different girl, but i don’t write it explicitly because god forbid. lovers to exes. angsty, angsty, angsty. reader’s kinda a wuss. ignore the existence of curfews for this fic btw, thankies!

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even, but on your tongue?

it burns.

everytime you have to say it, you have to stop yourself from clawing your tongue off, skinning it clean of the layer that said her name—because you hate it. hate her. hate her stupid smile that’s all teeth, her eyes that she knows are pretty, all her muscles that probably wouldn’t help much in the event she got herself pulled into a scream-esque horror movie. you hate her fucking fashion sense … and how she looks better with all her clothes off.

you hate her.

hate how she lies through those teeth, through that smile, so easily—hate how she knew her eyes were nice and always gave you puppy eyes so you’d forgive her every apology, hated all her muscles and how when they held you, you felt protected—and when they held you down, you felt hot and bothered. you hate her fucking fashion sense with every goddamn bone in your body because deep down you know she looks good in every damn thing— but she looks the best with her clothes off. you hate her. you hate paige bueckers with every bone in your body.

but there was a time in which you didn’t. there was a time in which you looked at paige with love instead of the hatred you look at her with now, and a time in which you stopped her in halls instead of hoping you wouldn’t see her in them in the first place. there was a time you loved her smile, and her eyes, and drooled over her muscles—and that time? was the time of your fucking life.

and she chose to end it through a fucking phone call.

she always knocked on your door three times.

i love you— she said it through those knocks. you told her she didn’t need to, she was your girlfriend, she had special privileges (and a dorm key), but she insisted, because she wanted to say i love you before you even saw her. you always found it cute.

she was your girlfriend, then. she gave you toothy smiles whenever you went to her games, kisses throughout the campus because she believed a ‘hello’ was never enough, she even held your hand when she knew you were getting overwhelmed. she was, like, literally perfect. there was no doubt in your mind that she was it for you—she was the one. no worried looks from your friends whenever paige placed a hand on your hip, no whispers among students you didn’t know surfacing as you held her hand through a crowd could deter you. not even whispers of how paige had notoriously wandering eyes, or how she had a history of playing games with girls who didn’t know they were pawns. you were warned that paige wasn’t meant to settle down, that she was meant ‘for the streets’, and would never truly be yours— as they so bluntly, and also rudely, told you. you did nothing but scoff. those warnings did nothing. paige was it.

paige bueckers was the one.

you had no doubt about it. you were hers. you didn’t think twice about the wedding in spring you imagined, expecting it to be your problem in the future you had together, when in reality? paige didn’t even want you in hers.

it started with her smile.

her smile was all teeth back then, when you were still in that early honeymoon phase and you felt as if nothing in the world could tear you apart. she was always happy to see you— you’d know from the way her smile was always so big. so wide.

and suddenly, somehow, some way— on some random thursday, it faltered. you didn’t notice at first. she didn’t smile as wide anymore. when she saw you at her games, she nodded her head and went back to her bench.

you just thought she was tired. that was okay, you thought.

and then her eyes started wandering.

like the crowds you once easily ignored whispered she was notorious for, her eyes started wandering. she looked at a cheerleader, her eyes trailing down the girl’s slim waist—and then the next week, she was looking at a point guard from another team; she just kept… looking.

by the next month she was looking at every one else besides you.

there were times when you locked eyes, and paige always did love those moments—you’d have a staring contest, and those butterflies in your stomach made simply because of paige looking at you so intently it made you feel like the only person in the room? well, you always fuckin’ lost. paige loved looking at you.

it’s why you noticed when she stopped.

suddenly, her arms didn’t wrap around you anymore.

there was no longer the familiar warmth she brought with her, no sign of the tight, constrictive hold that was somehow comforting. when paige hugged you, she did it with one hand. she pulled away first.

you always joked about paige’s arms being a cage.

unfortunately for you, that cage was all you knew. and when it began to open, you didn’t want to go. so you didn’t. you stayed with her. you stayed with her, and she got worse.

by then, she had stopped knocking three times.

by then, she had stopped coming. coming through for you, and coming to your dorm, and coming to you in general.

you don’t know why it only took you that one fantastic (sarcasm detected!) night to really leave.

CONNECTICUT — 2:54 AM, BELDEN HALL (UCONN ALUMNI QUAD DORM)

11 missed calls, exactly 29 texts and counting, and thirty minutes pacing around your dorm, as small of a space as it was—paige promised to be back by 10:30 . that was exactly four hours and and 24 minutes ago. safe to say, you were fucking horrified. she promised to be back by 10:30; you were going to have a movie night together. your popcorn is untouched now, cold and stale.

and she is still not back.

so you call again.

there is exactly three rings before she finally answers. you gasp, a sigh of relief escaping you. her name is so sweet on your tongue.

“paige!—“

there is a click of her tongue on the other line and the giggle of another girl that makes your ears ring. “what?” she groans, “what is it?”

“paige?” you repeat her name again, softer this time, a tingle on your tongue.

“bro— hhh—fuck, right there, right there—what is it?”

a blade pierces your heart. “paige, what are you doing?”

there is a shuffle on the other line. she stays silent for a moment, the only sound from her is the soft sighs she let out and slurping you choose not to hear. you might puke.

you swallow down bile that feels like blood, and ask again.

“paige, what are you doing?”

“getting great head.”

you didn’t expect her to be so upfront, hoping that maybe even in all her drunken stupor she’d end up softening the truth. she didn’t. you froze.

your mind was moving a mile a minute, and so in desperation to just speak—you spoke with your heart. and all your heart had?

“why?”

it was broken enough for a mocking scoff to be heard on the other line, “why?” she repeated.

every word she said there after pierced a new hole through your already bleeding heart.

“i don’t give a damn ‘bout you, baby. what are you on?” she groaned, and you could hear her eyes roll from here— “i was just feeling ‘lone lately, you know how it is…”

by then, you knew she meant it. you stifled a sob. by then, you knew she meant it—but you still said, you still said— “you’re just… you’re just drunk—“

“you get drunk too, don’t be a fucking drama queen. i know you. from head to toe, actually.” it’s mocking, and you bite your lip— “you know how it feels to get— ohhh fuck, fuck that feels good, that feels good,”

you could barely believe her own audacity. she was so shameless in her disloyalty— with every moan, rage reverberated through your body. with every giggle you heard from that girl on the other end, your fist clenched harder.

and yet, trumping every other emotion, was sorrow.

“we’re done, paige.” you said, through a hoarse, shaky voice. “we’re done.”

“are we?”

“yes, we are.”

“but you stayed this long, baby. if i get bored again, i might need you. you’re so grumpy all the time, you— fuck, fuck�� you know? when you’re with others, you’re grumpy, but with me, you’re so sweet. when you’re with me, your ass is flirty— all that pain you told me about disappears, right? that’s funny. you’re a pain in the ass when i’m tryna get a quick fuck in. gotta stay loyal to you… but nahh… i’m bored, actually. real bored. like super, super bored. but it like really depends—“

why are you letting her speak this long? there are tears in your eyes, and you fear your skin might split if you keep clenching your knuckles this hard. why are you letting her speak this long?

you don’t want to stop hearing her voice.

you don’t want to, even if she made you wait for four hours and 24 minutes, even after all she’s put you through—even after every second passing right now, in which you find paige has probably been continously cheating on you.

“paige,” you try again. you interrupt her. this time, her name on your tongue burns. it bleeds like a cut, aching. “paige, just… stop.” you defend yourself pathetically, you acknowledge it, you cannot stop it—but maybe, you can stop her. “just stop.”

“…okay?“

okay, is all you get. that’s all you get.

you open your mouth to speak, but you’re cut off by paige’s pornographic moan that claws at your brain the moment you hear it—and then a click is heard.

paige ended the call.

paige ended it all.

you would’ve collapsed if you weren’t already slumped against your bed in tears. you fall asleep with your head resting against the edge of your mattress and a bucket of popcorn untouched by your desk.

and the next morning, there are no more missed calls. your roommate knows about your breakup before you even tell her; she tells you paige was fucking drunk off her ass last night, and she announced it at the party in a tone so jolly it made people double over and laugh. your roommate heard paige say that she was free, now, and that the moment she said so—a bunch of girls had came near her corner. they were waiting.

your roommate can’t resist saying ‘i told you so’.

this time, you don’t even think to defend the person you thought you’d willingly spend your whole life defending.

instead, you say, “you were right.”

because she was. as unheard of as it seemed back then, she was right.

what’s meant for the streets would never be yours.

@likelysobbing.

[strangersteddierthings]

Jealousy Looks Different On You

[Part One] ✨ [You Are Here] ✨ [Part Three] ✨ [Final Part]

Steve can be a jealous man. He can be.

Just not in the same way that Eddie seems to thrive on it. Steve doesn't have a right to jealousy outside a relationship, so even if he feels jealous, he'll never act on it.

He thought it was just one of the many ways Eddie and he were incompatible romantically.

It was the same song and dance when they'd go out. Eddie would drag someone onto the dance floor and spend most of the dance making eyes at Steve until his catch of the night got jealous enough to pull Eddie out of eyesight.

Steve is used to that. That's the routine.

Except.

Well, except Eddie's broken the routine now, hasn't he?

Flipped the entire script by saying the things Steve has wanted to hear for years. I wouldn’t have rejected you and Jesus, Steve, you’re the only one I’ve really wanted.

Steve knows Eddie well enough to know that Eddie believes he's telling the truth or believes he really does want what he's saying to be the truth.

And now, sitting in silence in the back of a taxi that Eddie's gotten them, Steve can't bring himself to hope about it. Eddie's not a liar, as far as Steve knows, but that doesn't mean he actually wants Steve. Not for real. Not in the long run.

Steve can't give Eddie all the things Eddie seems to enjoy most. He's heard enough about Eddie's sex life to know they aren't super compatible in that department. And as far as he knows, Eddie's never even had a relationship. Just one-night stands and friends with benefits situations, which, y'know, Steve's not judging him about because Steve had all that once, too.

And maybe it's shitty of him to think but because Eddie's never been in a long-term monogamous relationship, Steve's not sure that one between them will work.

Okay. It's a lot shitty for him to think.

There's no real basis for Steve to think this other than that everything Steve wants out of a relationship, Eddie's shown him he wants the exact opposite.

Maybe Steve's just thinking shitty thoughts because it's easier than hoping that this might work.

The ride to the apartment is awkward only for Steve. They can't exactly talk about liking each other romantically in the back of a taxi where a stranger can clearly hear them, so they don't. Instead, Eddie chats up the cabbie about everything and anything that comes to his mind and Steve sits with just his thoughts.

Which are not being kind.

God, he's kind of a shitty person, isn't he?

Steve lets them both into the apartment and it feels different now. It's not like Eddie's never been in Steve's apartment. Hell, he's been sleeping in his old room for this whole 'break from the LA stress' he's taken. Has been here three days already, so this isn't even the first time this week that Steve's let them both into the apartment.

It's just different now that Eddie knows. Steve's been living his life with the assumption that Eddie knew but now he knows and everything is different.

"You, uh, want a beer?" Steve asks as he toes off his shoes, stalling because he doesn't know how to start this conversation. Isn't even sure he wants to because having this conversation means there is no going back. He won't be able to unsay these things, Eddie won't be able to unhear them. It'll be out there. All his hurt and love and fear and hope.

"Steve," is all Eddie says, in a tone that says 'we need to talk'.

So, Steve swallows thickly, nods, and heads for the living room. It's so stupid but he suddenly feels exposed, so he picks up a throw pillow from the couch before he plops onto it. He turns completely sideways, back to the armrest of the couch and legs crossed, pillow in his lap to act as a barrier of some sort. Something to feel less exposed.

Eddie takes longer to join him because, unlike Steve, he'd gotten completely done up for the bar and that includes full lace up combat boots that he can't easily slip out of.

Eddie finally joins him in the living room, pausing when he sees Steve before he moves to sit on the couch, one leg folded under him and the other on the floor. He leaves a respectable foot of distance between them and Steve's not sure if he's disappointed by that or not.

There is a tense silence that falls on them, neither brave enough to really begin the conversation that could be the end of everything.

"Steve, I- I don't even know where to start, man," Eddie finally says, running a hand through his hair.

"Me either," Steve says, looking down and picking at the pillow. "You were the one who said we needed to talk."

"Because we do?" Eddie sounds confused. "I, fuck man, I basically accused you of being in love with me and you confirmed it. We gotta talk about that."

Steve frowns because he doesn't agree. They don't have to talk about it. As far as Steve was concerned, they've been successfully not talking about it for years. Nothing has really changed from Steve's perspective. "What's there to talk about?"

"That you love me! And that I was, am, in love with you, too! That feels like a big deal!" Eddie cries, voice not loud enough to bother the neighbors yet but he can easily get that way. "You- why don't you seem as happy about this as I am?"

"Because I'm not," Steve says, stern and biting as he finally looks up from the pillow. "How am I supposed to be happy about this? This is going to change everything between us. Everything! And I've been- I've made peace with how this wasn't- with how things were between us."

Eddie stares back at him, eyes wide and mouth agape in his shock. It takes him a moment to recover. "I don't... understand. Why, why aren't you happy? Of course this will change things between us, but you make it sound like it'll be for the worse? I thought-"

"What? You thought you'd tell me you love me too and I'd jump into your arms?"

"Well, kinda," Eddie starts, but Steve doesn't want to hear it.

"I can't! Eddie, I can't. I'm not- I-I get that you, that you've just realized I loved you, but I've been living with the assumption that you already knew. I thought you knew for years. And now you're sitting here, telling me that you've felt the same. What, this whole time?"

"Yes! For longer, probably!" Eddie argues back, anger and hurt mixing on his face. "I've never known you to not go after the person you want, so why did you say anything sooner?"

"Why didn't you!?" Steve shouts, feeling the heat of tears in his eyes. He throws the pillow at Eddie and jumps from the couch to pace the living room. "We lived together for years! And I watched as you brought home guy after guy after guy. I listened as you waxed poetry about the perfect man for you; a fellow metalhead who would want to go to concerts with you, someone who'd play DnD with you and enjoyed your other nerd things, and-and-and," Steve stutters over the word, fighting back making a sobbing sound because it's one thing to let Eddie see his tears; it's an entirely different thing to let him hear the whole sob-fest Steve's fight back. "And a laundry list of all the kinks they have to b-be into so you don't get bored. I- God, you'd laid out your incredibly long list of standards that I didn't fit before I'd even realized I liked men. That I liked you! Why would I even try when I already knew I'd never measure up?"

He's pacing still. Movement helps him push the urge to cry down and makes the tears dry up. It takes him a while to realize that there's been no answer from Eddie. So, Steve finally gets his emotions under control and turns to look at the couch, to see Eddie's response.

He's not expecting to see tears falling down Eddie's own cheeks and wearing a face of heartbreak and regret.

[eumppattv]

you’re so sweet ❀˖° ot7 enha 𖦹

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ cute things they do in a relationship

enha ୨ৎ reader fluff headcanon masterlist engene zone an: requests are open!

heeseung ۶ৎ make you cute messages on minecraft

as the gamer he is, heeseung spends a lot of his free time on his pc. as the boyfriend he is, he spends even more time involving you in said gaming as much as he can. that’s why when you agreed to play with him, he left you a cute message in your world made with your favorite colored blocks. as time went on, any time you joined his game, he would leave a sweet message outside your shared home.

jay ۶ৎ add your voice to songs

jay was obsessed with every thing about you, but he had to admit your voice had a different effect on him. there was one day where he replayed a voicemail you left him over and over again, smiling to himself in his studio. that’s when he had the idea to add the voicemail to a song he was working on. since then he finds his favorite voice messages and voicemails you’ve sent him, and adds them as intros or background vocals to his tracks.

jake ۶ৎ makes layla bring you things

we all know layla is well trained as it is, but jake decided to take her training a step forward. it all started the day he asked you to be his gf, he had trained layla to bring you a basket with flowers, chocolate, and a letter asking you to be his. since then he gets layla to bring you flowers, or he will give her your bags to bring down the stairs. once he even got layla to bring you coffee, and you still don’t understand how it didn’t spill. it’s the cutest thing ever.

sunghoon ۶ৎ take off guard pics of you

as the photographer he is, sunghoon can’t help but capture the beauty in life. and everything about you was beautiful. he would often bring a small camera to your dates, waiting for the perfect opportunity to capture your essence. like the time you were on a picnic and he took a picture of you petting a dog that ran up to your spot. or the time you were watching a scary movie and he caught you mid scream, although you argue there was no beauty in that one.

sunoo ۶ৎ arrange skincare nights

when it comes to self care, sunoo is the master. he often gave you advice on what products to use, but you would find it difficult to find time for yourself. so, he decided to have skincare nights once a week, where you would do movie nights with face masks, or play games while doing clay masks. he would even apply all his products on you, because he wants to take care of you.

jungwon ۶ৎ pretending to propose while on walks

early into your relationship you figured out that jungwon loved going on walks in his free time- and you decided to accompany him. on one of these walks, you witnessed a proposal and made a joke about how bizarre it was to him. since then jungwon randomly gets on one knee when going on walks, and you laugh every single time. sometimes he would even add a speech, and you would pretend to say yes.

ni-ki ۶ৎ put on music and dance with you

as the dance prodigy he is, ni-ki’s life is not complete without some music. he will shower with music, sleep with music, and when you’re around he will dance with you. you’ll be baking cookies, and he will put some music and pull you away from the batter for a dance break. he’ll guide your body around, moving you to the beat. there’s times where he will play one of his songs, and teach you a small part of their choreography, praising you when you get it right.

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join engene zone here!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @dior-girlie @gigification @wonnie-avenue @httpsneptvnn @dimplewonie @lovelingkam @ikeuluvr @lovelingkam

[sprouts-xreader-stories]

Focus! :(

REBLOGS > LIKES

Requested : No

Genre : Fluff, Canon X Reader, Albedo X Reader, Arataki Itto X Reader, Scaramouche X Reader, Kinich X Reader, GN!Reader, Separate

POV : Second Person

Warnings: Not many! Just a few minor curses here and there. One mention; Itto calls you wife once. Otherwise, entirely GN. Also, mentioned height difference when it comes to Scara; you’re shorter than him.

Albedo ~

You groaned internally. He was rambling again. He had a nice voice, sure, but you just… Weren’t feeling well.

“Bedo,” you called. He didn’t hear you. “Bedo,” you repeated, louder. He still didn’t hear. You sighed and pushed yourself off the table, careful not to knock any of the glass vials over. His coat hung off your shoulders, and you carefully pulled it back up before walking to him.

“Albedo.” Your voice had gone deadpan. He still wasn’t paying attention. And so, abruptly, you kissed him.

“So… Those two would go toge-”

He dropped whatever he was holding, the (empty) glass clattering to the floor. Miraculously, it didn’t break. Albedo paused entirely, bright blue eyes flickering down to you before he gave into the soft feeling of your lips. He was the one to pull away. “…uh… you needed me?”

Itto ~

You grinned from your spot on the grass. Watching Itto (try to) train before getting bored distracted by the kids running amok and going to play with them instead was stupidly funny. Currently, he was feigning a failure. The children were playing hide and seek. And Itto was standing right next to one of them. And pretending he couldn’t see them at all.

“Oh, this-… Ugh! Where could they have gone?” He pondered aloud, grinning. Sharp fangs glinted in the light as he abruptly grabbed the squirming kid from behind a barrel. “Oh. That’s where.” He lightly poked her before setting her down, watching her run off.

“Itto, we gotta go,” you called out. But your boyfriend didn’t hear you. You smirked. You knew exactly what to do. So, you crouched down and hid.

“…who’s next…and-! Wait where’d they go-”

He noticed. And immediately, he went around, carefully taking the kids’ from their hiding places. “Alright, kiddos, we had fun, but I really gotta get going my wife’s disappeared-” He explained, almost too quickly for the young ones to understand. But, they went around, trying to help him find you.

“Over here!” A young boy called out, pointing at where you were. You crawled out and crossed over to your boyfriend. He just sighed lightly. “Don’t do that again.” “Maybe listen next time, and I won’t.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

Scaramouche ~

Both of you were particularly quiet. Like he said, “It’s rather pathetic to force a conversation just to occupy silence”. So, most of your time was spent in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

You were completely silent as you chewed on the lotus crisps he’d made. For who… Well, for what his past was, he was a decently good cook. He was entirely focused on the ingredients, humming something of a soft song.

“Scara?” You spoke up after swallowing. He didn’t respond. You frowned. “Scara…?” You repeated. He still didn’t answer. You sighed softly and got off the stool, walking to him. “Scara…” You carefully touched his arm. He glanced at you, but didn’t speak. Without saying a word, he pulled you closer, in front of him. Caged in by his arms in something like a hug; he was busy chopping up whatever was in front of him, sure, but you were begging for his attention. And even someone as strong-willed as him couldn’t resist.

He didn’t speak. Just held you close, his chin resting atop your head.

Kinich ~

“Ajaw. Shut up, you damned dragon.” Kinich hissed. He was pissed off with the thing, at this point. “Ichi,” you murmured. Ajaw kept bickering, complaining, just being annoying. Kinich waved him away. He didn’t feel well today, and Ajaw wasn’t helping.

“Ichi, love,” you repeated, frowning. He didn’t hear you. Ajaw was drowning you out. “Ajaw. Can you stop, please? Just for a sec.” “No, Kinich’s sick, which means he might die soon-!” The dragon cackled, much to Kinich’s annoyance.

“Go. Away.” Kinich swatted at the pixels. Ajaw just laughed and kept eagerly waiting, making small sounds of excitement. “Ichi?” You finally started, once the room was quiet. “Hm.” Good. There was his attention.

“Uh-… Your food’s done.”

@drxgonspine , @akuutff , @emotionalsupportgoblin420 , @sh0uz , @vexter-the-comedian

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝔂 𝓘 𝓢𝓮𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x Blind!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, public declaration with a side of soft angst

Word Count: 560

Synopsis: Mark has something to tell you – and he decides to make a show of it.

a/n: the most important person in my life is completely blind. this is dedicated to her – she deserves for the world to see her the way i do

You could tell something was up the moment your phone buzzed with a message from Mark that just said:

“Come to the quad. Wear something cute. Trust me.”

That last part—trust me—was what got you.

You held your cane loosely, walking at a steady pace, heels clicking against the pavement. People were… murmuring. You heard your name once. Then twice. Were people whispering about you?

Your stomach tightened. You hated being stared at—being the one people noticed because you were different. Mark knew that. You trusted him. But right now?

You weren’t sure what you were walking into.

And then he was there. You could hear his breathing before you heard his voice.

“Okay—don’t freak out,” Mark said in a rush, excitement bubbling out of him. “But I did a thing. Kind of a huge thing.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “Should I sit down for this?”

He grabbed your hands gently. “Nope. You’re standing right where I want you.”

And then… music.

It started from speakers set up around the quad—cheesy, golden-hour love song music. Then someone in the crowd (was that Amber?) shouted, “Mark, go!!”

“Okay, okay!” he laughed, then turned back to you.

“I know you hate attention. And you’re way more private than me. But I wanted to do something big. Not to embarrass you—but because… you make me brave, and I want everyone to see that.”

You blinked. “Mark, what did you—?”

“I asked the AV club to help me set up a flashmob,” he said all in one breath. “But they were like, ‘no, that’s weird,’ so I just asked everyone we know to show up while I told you how much I love you.”

Your jaw dropped.

“I love you,” he said again, more serious now. “I love the way you hold the world together even when you can’t see it. I love how you feel everything deeper than anyone else I’ve met. I love that you trust me. And I wanted people to see that it’s not me taking care of you—you take care of me.”

Silence. The kind that holds its breath.

“I used to be scared people wouldn’t take us seriously,” he admitted. “But I realized it’s not their approval I want. It’s yours. So I’m doing this here. Loudly. In front of everyone. Because I want them to know—I’m lucky to love you. I get to love you.”

You were quiet for a long moment. And then you whispered, barely audible over the speakers:

“Say it again.”

Mark stepped closer, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you.”

He kissed you like he didn’t care who was watching.

And for the first time in your life—you didn’t either.

[bamfkeeper]

Parents.

Kurt Wagner x F!reader

RQ: 'CAN WE PLS GET MORE DAD!KURT HC'S??? PLS I BEG' - @thel0v3hashira143

Warnings: Baby themes, mentions of breastfeeding and other recovery things from birth and pregnancy.

A/N: Pleaseee I love Kurt as a dad <3 Dad!Kurt has to have a goatee I don't make the rules 😩

Kurt loves being a dad. He's always wanted to be a father and he was so excited when you got pregnant and gave birth. He was so attentive to you, and during labor and the birthing process, he was there helping as much as possible.

When it was the first night home from the hospital, he made sure you got your baby inside safely and you got to bed right away. He didn't want you moving around too much. He had already prepped the bedroom, the bassinet was beside the bed for you to easily reach for your baby at night for feedings.

He had water, cream, medicine, everything you needed. He popped up at night when he felt you move, checking on you nearly every hour.

If you wanted to only breastfeed, he'd absolutely be okay with that, and he'd make sure you were alright doing so. He would help you pump and offer bottles if you needed, but he'd mostly try to respect your wants.

I don't think Kurt would care what gender the baby is. He'd love it no matter what. I always had a feeling that if he had a boy he'd name it Gabriel.

Names in general can be played with. You can imagine him going the religious route, or the German route, or if you have a name you like from your own culture, then you could choose that. Kurt is just happy you're having a baby, the name isn't something he's going to argue about with you.

Kurt is absolutely super protective over the baby and you, especially fresh from the hospital. He advocates your wishes to all your friends and family. No visitors, no pictures, no holding the newborn, etc. whatever rules you have.

You love watching him hold your baby, how he cradles them in his arms and hums so sweetly. He gently rubs his nose into the baby's tiny one, he's so gentle with them.

He kisses your baby's feet, listening to the sweet giggles because his beard tickles their toes. He loves to give them raspberries too.

He likes to sing German lullabies or songs to your baby. His singing voice is actually really good.

You thought Kurt was protective before, but once your baby moves around more often, he becomes even more so. Anyone says anything about your baby's appearance or yours after your pregnancy, he loses it. You didn't think that would get you going but...damn.

Your baby would be bilingual. They'd learn English and German growing up.

Walking is fun. With the tiny tail your baby has, balance is much easier, so your baby is walking long before normal babies walk.

As your baby grows, their little voice develops an accent in both languages, and you both adore it. Kurt is so proud of your little one, going on and on about how smart they are and how they get it from you.

Kurt loves dressing your baby too, he definitely puts them in little overalls or lederhosen.

Kurt plays with your little one all the time, especially at parks, he loves pushing them in the swing and sliding down the slide with them in his lap. He absolutely makes up extravagant make believe scenarios about sailing the seas on a big pirate ship, aka the couch.

Speaking of...pirate costumes for Halloween is a MUST.

Also let's not forget the spoiling your child will endure. Kurt gets them whatever they want. Stuffed animals, toys, clothes, sweets, within reason of course. But he can't resist.

Kurt loves to cook German dishes for you and your child, it makes him happy to do and it connects you and your child closer to his roots.

Bedtime stories are big for Kurt too. The showman he is, he tells the stories in different voices, he completely acts out the parts to make your child giggle and laugh. He tucks your little one in and gives them a kiss, a soft lullaby, then it's off to dreamland.

You adore seeing this side of Kurt, he's grown into a wonderful parent, even if he did have some worries before. He is absolutely perfect. A perfect father and a perfect husband.

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images: Immortal X-Men #7 (2022), Pinterest for others

[gatorbites-imagines]

Consider this, Frank x Matt but throw reader in there too, either as a third vigilante or just a guy,., on god we getting those middle aged men pregnant

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle x Male reader 

Headcanons 

I crave comfort from big strong men, so, have this. I know we wanna knock these dudes up, but that is gonna be another day if theres more requests for them. 

I've been teetering on the edge of a panic attack all day, which has become a common occurrence, so here I am, trying to distract myself. If y'all got any advice for coping, let me know. I'll do almost anything at this point. 

You being a completely normal guy could be the normal that Matt and Frank both need in their life. It would also lead to different amounts of misunderstandings and drama. 

Both of these guys seem like the type of fool who thinks they can keep you safe by leaving you, and keeping as much distance as possible. 

I like to think you know them well enough to track them down though, or you know their friends and allies and can call around to find them.  

Sometimes it's down to you to ground them, and tell them how it really is as they can both work themselves into a frenzy. Be it fear, anger, need for vengeance, so on and so forth. Having a normal everyday guy being like “hey, take a deep breath” helps. 

I think both Matt and Frank have a thing for cuddling you and tucking their heads against your chest. They also both cling to you so tight it aches sometimes, but you never mind. It always makes you feel loved and held together.  

You swear you've caught them fighting for the privilege of sleeping on your left side, so they can lay right on top of your heart. They both deny this, and you haven't straight up caught them but... you swear they do it. 

You all wear each other's clothes, but Matt is the worst. His heightened senses mean he likes to wear something of yours or Franks, as being able to smell you guys help keep him calm. 

From my understanding, Frank used to be catholic but isn't anymore? We are going with that here at least. Matt, we know is catholic, goes to church, and finds his belief very important. But I don't see him pressing his beliefs on either you or Frank. 

I can imagine Frank finding comfort in hymns at times though. Like when he has days where he's really worked up and pacing, grinding his teeth and unable to relax, Matt can hold him and hum a tune they both know. 

I see Frank as a hummer. Like, he doesn't sing, but when he's comfortable or comforting you and/or Matt he always hums. Sometimes it's a real song, sometimes it's some little tune he made up on the spot. 

If you are catholic, or some other religion, or not religious at all, I don't see that impacting the relationship whatsoever. They're both very open men when it comes to such things, as long as you are happy. I can also see them taking part in traditions, if you have those. 

Speaking of tradition. I see them both struggling with that in the beginning of the relationship. They seem to be the type of men who deprive themselves of joy and comfort, because they feel they don't deserve it. 

This is where you being a normal everyday guy helps too. Because Matt and Frank may feel that they don't deserve it but... you deserve everything this world as to offer you.  

I get a feeling they both have a very hard time around christmas, since such a holiday involves a lot of memories for everyone. You three would do something small, just you three, something intimate and quiet. The first year at least. 

If you have anxiety, then these two are great partners too. Matt would clock it immediately if you are starting to feel anxious, way before even you do. 

The guy could probably smell the differences in your hormone levels, and would notice your heart start racing, your breathing speeding up, so on and so forth. 

Frank isn't far behind. The guys very well trained, and with you and Matt he is even more aware. The two would have you worked your way out of a panic attack before you even noticed it was brewing. 

This is where Franks humming would appear, as he seems the type to either hug you close and tight, squeezing you to ground you. Or, he would just sit beside you and let you soak in his quiet presence. 

Matt can read the room as well as Frank, so if you need quiet and alone time, then you get that. But I can also see Matt just... talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He helps distract you and ground you. 

You being a normal everyday guy, also means they both get very protective, it can be overbearing at times. This would have been a problem earlier in the relationship, because yeah. Theyd stalk or follow you around when they get anxious. 

You appreciate them loving you and wanting to keep you safe, but it's also unhealthy to be so dependent on your wellbeing and using you as a way to ignore their own problems. 

By that I mean, that Frank and Matt would put aside what's actually bothering them because “oh, we need to keep an eye on our lover, that's more important” 

It's a conversation neither of them wants to have, but one they are gonna have to accept.  

In the end it helps their anxiety and fears if you let them teach you self defense. Frank teaches you how to use a gun and different weapons, Matt teaches you nonlethal ways to take out enemies. Just in case. They still follow you sometimes though, but now you know they are there. 

Now, to the most important part. How do they cuddle. How do they kiss?  

Matt feels like the type of guy who runs cold, his fingers and toes are always cold, and yes, he sneaks his hands under your shirts or tucks his feet under your legs.  

He would wear pajamas to bed, no matter the time of year. Both because its comfortable for him, but also in case he needs to jump up and get to work.  

He curls up tightly when you guys sleep, making himself as small as possible. It almost made you tear up and Frank a little choked up when Matt splayed out across the bed without a care in the world the first time. 

Frank runs hot, and sleeps in his boxers, and maybe a weapon or two strapped to his body. He ended up banned from the bed with the weapons, so they are tucked under the pillow and around the bedroom instead. 

Frank sleeps on his back, arms by his sides or folded on his chest. Hes taking up less space than most would, and sleeps all tense, at least in the beginning of the relationship. 

When you guys become more comfortable and open up, Frank starts melting against you and Matt instead, like he's trying to wrap around both of you.  

You guys are always touching in some way. Theres not a specified little or big spoon, it all depends on the day and how you guys are feeling. 

How do they kiss? Depends a lot on the day and situation honestly. 

They don't each have a specific way they kiss, I think it all comes down to how worked up they are from their hero lives, and how long it's been since you guys have seen each other. 

But if I had to decide, heres what I think. 

Matt is slower and softer with his kisses, it's not that he doesn't want to each you or Frank whole, but with his heightened senses it can be a lot. It took the longest for Matt to go deeper with a kiss, since the whole, french kissing is very big on his senses. 

Matt can also “see” in his own way, but he seems the type to cradle his lovers face, and run his fingers all over their features as you guys kiss. He says the sweetest compliments too, when you guys are feeling mushy. Stuff neither you nor Frank have ever thought about, but small things he notices. 

In the beginning, Frank kisses are kinda... bland? It's not that he doesn't want to kiss Matt or you, but again, he doesn't feel he deserves it. Frank is scared of opening up and being vulnerable. 

But then, over time, it evolves into something more. His hands grab you, hold you tight, his lips more insistent and hungrier. It's not a hunger in a heated way, but a hunger for affection and love, to feel you and Matt are alive, and that you are there. 

Frank and Matt are rougher with each other than they are with you, its all that tension they build as daredevil and the punisher, it just builds up over time. You get a great show out of it though, its very hot to see them kiss like they are trying to devour one another, all bloody and rough. 

As a fun little bonus, Matt and Frank will sometimes wear their vigilante gear cuz it makes you all embarrassed and flustered.  

Like, Frank crowding you in from one side, Matt on the other, caging you against the counter as they speak in their deeper rougher vigilante voices. And you just start giggling and covering your face. 

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

lake scene • episode 6

before diving into it, bare with me! the lake scene wouldn't be the lake scene if it wasn't for edvin and omar fr: the uncut version of the convo wilmon has was 8 minutes long and all improvised when it was shot. edmar just got told to say what they thought wilmon wanted to say and boom! this lake scene happened. no one is doing it like them.

oh alice is the cherry on top - the 'oh alice we're growing up', the melody fits the setting and the warm colors just right. the perfect song for the perfect scene.

talking about song - wille's song was written right after this scene as lisa said: 'i could see simon walking back home that night, sitting down by his keyboard, birds singing outside, the sun already up and finally it dawning in him: it shouldn't be a revolution to love someone'. do what you want with this info!

without further ado, let's get into it :)

the little smirk after wille stumbles is cuuute. terms are not the best but it still takes something so simple to lighten the mood.

wille's carrying his blue blanket with him can only mean they went to his room to take it before heading here - and so in the time between scenes they talked and thought about the lake to forget everything, planned to bring a blanket to lie down on and enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them :')

you can see the weight of the situation suddenly hitting him.

it's so bittersweet - the lake has always been their happy place but the mood is much darker now, they're sharing what they think is the last big moment together at sunrise.

they try to keep the convo as light as possible but they know too well how much this hurts.

the single tear streaming down.

the different reactions are what get me the most: wille seems almost relaxed in letting the emotions take over compared to simon who's very controlling over it - he blinks and bites his lip trying to stop more tears from falling, he averts his eyes.

simon's not so accepting whilst wille looks resigned.

the scene makes the best out of the limited time bc nothing feels rushed at all: there's no music at first to create that alone time intimacy properly and it keeps getting better with the camera focusing on the way they look at each other shot after shot.

wilhelm breaking the silence with it takes a fool to remain sane is the sickest thing isweartogod.

such a monumental and fond throwback. it's the first memory they have of each other but it's also the first one we have of wilmon too. it brings everyone back to that very first time.

this shot is incredible. young royals will always hold a special place in my heart and i want to remember wilmon just like this.

you would never tell they saw and touched and explored each other's body more than once by the way they're both so shy to undress and wilhelm has to tear his eyes away from simon.

they're still my favorite losers <3

it's also the first time simon undresses himself without wille's help. i think the essence is - to be completely bare and show the most vulnerable version of themselves, to get rid of all the layers and weights they carry around, to let it all behind for this one last time together.

the sparkle in simon's eyes when he looks at wille is so sweet. it's more of a bitter taste that comes with this scene, but in a list of moments that are a perfect example of how much they simply enjoy each other's company, this is definitely one of those - simon says 'when it was us it was good' at the end and it is very true.

all i see here is the plain and simple version of them, they feel so much and everything about this scene is telling us that they just needed to found the right place and the right time to let it out - the nostalgia, the sorrow, the sadness, the silly energy too. it's all so pure.

'they undress, they walk down into the water naked, and they are rebirthed'. lisa once described this moment using these words and they're probably the most accurate. it reminds me of the thing i wrote earlier - taking the white clothes off feels like freeing themselves of every burden and then stepping into the water as a form of sanctification of it.

whether you see it in a religious or a non-religious way, it is a very beautiful image.

the eye contact game is going stronger than everrr.

they're too pretty to be real ugh.

the splash of water :')

this is extremely beautiful and the transition between the two is perfectly made.

it's such a loving gesture - we can't really tell which one of the two is done before but it's the fact simon does it twice that matters: he follows the instinct to do it once but it's still not enough so he feels the need to do it again.

this shot was one of the stills that came out for promo before the season's release and i remember being completely blown away by it.

i claimed it and said this scene would be one of the core ones of the show and well, i guess i was right!

the whole water sequence is a visual representation of simon getting further and further away from wilhelm. both times he turns around to look at him tho - it's not what he wants to do but he has to do it for their sake.

also! one pov is from into the water and the other one is from the shore. idk if it's casual or hides an actual meaning but it's fun to point out sooo

too many single tears were shed for my fragile heart to handle.

this pretty much sums up the way i felt at the end too.

pain is written all over simon's face but i was not prepared for wille's sobs and his shoulders uncontrollably shaking. stab me.

he just keeps watching simon slip through his fingers and he's left to wonder what's supposed to happen now?.

from wille's words - 'how can you just be over me? i thought it would be us' - we learn that he's convinced simon is already over them and he's alone in struggling to accept it and move on (oh if only he knew).

he breathes but this is more of a this is it sigh - now it's time for me to learn how to let him go.

[likea-silhouette]

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

rating: mature

word count: 3k

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices?

*based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod* Read Part Two

30-year-old me could've never fathomed life would've looked like this.

The 21-year-old pictured it a million times—a future with him and me, maybe children, maybe a flat.

Our love was solidified in my mind as if something like ours would never change or dwindle. How could it? 

But that's what love feels like at that age—until reality sets in, and those dreams and visions of future eternal love begin to fade. Then, the reality of adulthood kicks in.

Harry started going out—a lot. 

It was not unusual for a man at an age that was just beginning to kiss their 20s, but then it changed. It evolved into this dark cloud that hovered over he and I until it intermingled with every feeling I held towards him.

I could tell he had a problem. The drugs, the drinking-all of it had turned into something far from a normal night of fun. Before I knew it, the Harry I once knew and adored more than anything had evaporated into an air drenched in dismay, regret, and questioning. 

Until our early 20s, our shared friends watched me sling Harry’s arm around my shoulder each time we went out together. Their sets of eyes always preached sympathy, yet their tongues must’ve been cut off-or at least that’s what I assumed due to their lack of actual words. 

Each one of those frequently occurring nights where I struggled to move his flimsy legs out of a bar as his larger, drunk stature slurred words that only made sense to him, I could feel myself hating him a little more.

Eventually, I was questioning it all. Why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t his music and his family enough? Why did it have to be substances that turned him into a human that I never met nor signed up to be so deeply in love with?

I began to opt-out anytime Harry said we were invited for a night out with others. I could tell his disappointment the first couple of times I declined. Still, eventually, he stopped letting me know of these invitations altogether, with me only finding out about them as I watched him slip on his coat near the front door and tell me not to wait up for him.

At the tip of our shriveling iceberg, I became so numb that it rarely bothered me anymore. Those first nights when this was more of a rare occurrence, I would find myself crying into a pillow as Harry’s passed-out body lay in a corpse-like pose on our couch. Now, I felt nothing. Everything that once annoyed and worried me had turned into just another item on my checklist that I needed to be bothered with at 3 a.m. on a Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday…

His drunkenness had not only made Harry a completely different person but also made me a person I didn't recognize. It had me questioning whether I was even happy in our relationship, something I had never felt or imagined would happen to two people who were as deeply in love as we once were.

I wasn’t a total novacained creature; even if that’s what I wished I could be. Eventually, those feelings would bubble up and I would find my pot simmering over its edge. Tears would leak and leak from my eyes as I’d pace both metaphorically and physically while I tried to process how this had become what my life with Harry was. My throat would scratch and rub raw as I cried out into our empty apartment until my eyes were so tired and swollen that the nothingness of sleep was the only thing that sounded appealing and worth succumbing to.

___

One night, Harry managed to make his way back home from the bar on his own. How? I wasn’t sure and truthfully, I didn’t care anymore.

Even if that meant he recklessly got in a car while inebriated beyond belief or if he paid for an overpriced cab he’d never have to worry about the price of thanks to fame, riches, and loss of reality.

I nearly jumped off of the couch in surprise as his heavy hand slammed our front door closed.

Little did I know, that very evening, when I was adorned in a pair of Harry’s boxers and an oversized t-shirt, would be the last night I would spend in this living room that we shared. “How did you get home?” I said with my palm lying flat over my heart. “What are you-my mum?” Harry scoffed with a smirk, a clumsy tongue, and a stench of vodka that clung to the fabric of his clothes.

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to continue a conversation that would never move anywhere except to a space where Harry made rude comments and insults at me. He always got this way when he was gone beyond belief and choosing silence seemed like the best option from my point of view.

“Oh, now you can’t speak, huh?” Harry spat as he took a swig out of the quarter-gone wine bottle that sat on the coffee table next to the glass I had been nursing all evening. Quickly, I stood to my feet. My chest puffed in and out rapidly as I snatched the bottle out of his hands. Harry looked at me in disbelief. “This is the last thing you need right now Harry!” “Oh come on! You really are acting like my mum now,” he said with a joking tone despite my tense face sending him very real daggers.

“I’m not fucking kidding Harry! You’re already far gone as it is.” Our chests brushed as I attempted to grab the bottle out of his hands. It gave me butterflies.

I hated how touching him in any form still gave me a euphoric feeling despite the less-than-enthused circumstance we were currently in and had been in for the last couple of years. With a smirk, Harry held the bottle of wine above his head, extending it beyond my reach. I groaned, not wanting to play his little game tonight. “You know what-fine.” I raised my hands in front of my chest in surrender, “You get even more shit-faced than you are now and I’ll go to Nadia’s place so I can have some fucking peace”.

I couldn’t lie that it stung watching Harry’s mouth downturn at my words, but I wouldn’t allow it to change my mind again as it had so many times in the past. “Babe, c’mon”, Harry whined as he lowered the bottle to waist height. “Don’t be such a prude just because I like having a good time.” “A good time? You getting trashed and then coming home to drink yourself to sleep before you eventually wake up in the morning, puking up everything in your stomach and having the worst migraine of your life-that’s a good time? Meanwhile, I’m the one who brings you food! I’m the one who cleans up the vomit! I’m the one who has to leave early to get your drunk ass home! I’m not your goddamn mother Harry and that’s how you’re treating me and I’m sick of it.”

Suddenly, Harry’s voice rose and his nostrils began to flare-he morphed into a creature that only appeared when mixed with inebriation and anger. “Fucking sue me for going out and having a drink every once in a while!” Once in a while? As if this wasn’t happening multiple times a week. “But that’s the point! It’s not once and a while H, it’s several times a week that this happens.” Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes as he took another sip out of the open bottle. That rapidly beating heart of mine somehow increased even more as my hands acted before my brain could rationalize. Before I knew it, I was smacking the glass bottle out of Harry’s hand, sending glass and poignant, fruity liquid to the ground and on mine and his clothes.

I watched in horror as Harry took a step back and lifted his hands in front of his chest with wide eyes as he examined the evidence of my aggravation and utter exhaustion. Immediately I felt shame and disbelief towards myself and the person I had become. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was being pushed to my very brink, all while living constantly on edge and mourning the loss of who my boyfriend once was. Harry was turning me into someone I didn’t recognize anymore. Quickly, my feet darted between pieces of shattered glass, as I ran to the bathroom and let my ass meet the cold tiled floor. My knees hugged into my chest as I rocked back and forth with gasping breaths and eyes freely sobbing. Harry was mumbling something on the other side of the door, but my state of panic and disbelief shielded me from comprehending a word he was saying. Eventually, he went silent. I wasn’t sure how long I sat on that bathroom floor before I heard the light wrap of a fist against the door. I didn’t look at him as his head peaked around the now open door, but I knew his eyes would be soft and sorrowful. This was the hardest part.

He always looked sorry-so deeply sorry, and I didn’t doubt that he was genuine in that feeling. Harry was a good guy before and I knew that person was still inside of him somewhere, except he was buried six feet under and suffocating underneath the dirt and grime.

Harry proceeded to stare at me and I could tell his mind was going through some sort of internal conflict. Maybe he was regretful? Ashamed? Sorry? Hurt? I didn’t know and I was much too numb to even begin to care now. The damage was already done. Eventually, Harry gave up with his silent ‘I’m sorry’ and retreated to the couch where he drunkenly slipped into a state of slumber.

Meanwhile, I packed a large duffle bag with as many of my necessities as I could fit, and I left. —---

The months following my sudden departure were filled with texts, phone calls, and voicemails from Harry. I never answered any of them, but that never stopped him from trying to reach me. “Babe, I’m sorry. Can we talk? x ”

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted you know? I love you.”

“I’ll quit drinking. I promise this time.”

“Please don’t do this. I can’t do this without you in my life.”“You’re so perfect,” Harry sobbed into the phone with drunken speech, “how could I fuck this up so badly. I’m sorry.” When those methods of communication were not satisfying enough for Harry, he resorted to sending me DM’s on social media to confirm I was receiving his calls and texts.

I left him on read each and every time. When Harry finally let himself believe that my silence was something I was looking to make permanent and not just some sort of other excuse, his calls became more spread out and his texts sparse, until nearly six months after our final dispute, he fell silent and not only from me, but from the rest of the world as well.

—----

Two full years had passed since we split up and I hadn’t heard a single word from Harry since he gave in and granted me the space I silently requested. However, something I wasn’t expecting was that little part of me that felt sad once those calls and messages stopped rolling in. Had he really given up on me after only trying for a few months? I knew it was dumb and selfish to be upset about someone's sudden cutting off of communication when that was the very thing I had done and initiated, yet I felt that silence so cripplingly.

On the night of my 22nd Valentine's Day, I sat on my couch with a joint and a large to-go container of veggie fried rice as I tried to appease my melancholy of the evening, as many others were on this night. Eventually, the drugs kicked in and the TV couldn’t hold my attention long enough, so I found my thumb lazily pressing the letter ‘H’ on the keyboard of my phone as I hovered in the open tab of the browser. I knew I shouldn’t. I had blocked him on anything and everything for a reason, but it had been a few years, and, sue me for being naturally curious…especially on a fateful night such as this.

So pathetic-i’m aware, but somehow I convinced myself that it was okay and that maybe, just maybe, this would somehow bring me comfort or peace. Others were able to look their ex up on social media to get a peak into a life they were no longer a part of, so why couldn’t I google my ex and look for his name in headlines on major press websites? That’s what I told myself as I typed out the rest of his name and hit enter.

Several items popped up, but none were too terribly personal. It seemed that even to the public eye, Harry was nowhere to be found unless it was a promotional photoshoot, tour photos with One Direction, or blurred candids that were taken in secret. There was zero gossip around those stereotypical things you would think a single man would experience; women, getting kicked out of various bars, etc. The only headlines I was consistently seeing were ones questioning Harry’s absence from the public eye. I guess we both had that question in common. However, I at least had images that I could look at.

His face looked slightly more grown up and chiseled. His green eyes that once glimmered still looked nearly the same, minus the deep set purple circles underneath his waterline that were something I couldn’t remember seeing before. His hair was even longer than before and his body had a more athletic build and was filled up with several more tattoos.

He looked good. I wouldn’t deny that. Several minutes-hell, maybe even an hour-went by of examining images of a man who looked like the person you had thought was your soulmate. When you were finally able to pull yourself out of the trance, you threw your phone down on the coffee table in frustration. Your heart was swelling and you hated it. You were smiling as you looked at those images, admiring how handsome Harry still was and that much more as he grew further into adulthood- you hated that even more. You hated that you still adored him. Fucking hated it. —----

Six years later

“Fucking Idiot”, you mumbled as your hand slammed down on the horn button set dead center on your steering wheel. The traffic was horrendous and your patience was naturally always thin, but today made you that much more intolerant of any sort of inconvenience. Your best friend, Nadia, was throwing a surprise birthday party for her husband that would be filled with top-notch cuisines, free booze, and many of his close friends and family members. However, the party wasn’t the cause of your irritability. It’s who you knew could potentially be there that was causing a disturbance within your mind and body. When Nadia met her now husband, you and Harry, who you had just started dating at the time, naturally went out on double dates often, thus, forming a close friendship between the four of you. When you and Harry parted ways, your friendship with Nadia and her partner remained, but Harry was never spoken of. You weren’t sure of the exact reason-maybe it was out of fear of disturbing your peace or maybe they both cut him of-you weren’t sure. Either way, you were grateful that it was an unspoken condition that your friends caught on to naturally. Except for today, you were far from grateful for it; to say it would be helpful to know if your ex-boyfriend would be making an appearance at the same party you would be attending, thus, the both of you having to be in the same room together again after several years, is an understatement.

Sure, you could’ve asked your friend if Harry would be making an appearance today in case you needed to mentally prepare, but you also didn’t want to give off the vibe that you cared about his whereabouts, despite you very very much caring. Especially if it meant you and him being within the same realm again.

Before you could psych yourself into any more made-up horror-filled scenarios of your and Harry’s potential reunion, Nadia’s home came into view as your car rolled into an open parking space.

The area around their home was packed with various cars and people exiting their vehicles with gift bags and envelopes in hand.

As soon as your hand puts the car in park, you are pulling the mirror down and wiping away any concept of imperfection on your face or in your hair. Once finished with your final touches to your appearance, you took a deep breath-in and then out-before grasping the giftbag in your hand and stepping out of the confines of your car and into the crisp air.

Immediately, you are greeted by familiar faces of acquaintances you couldn’t put a face to the name of. Regardless, you smiled politely and spoke the standard conversation starters, such as, “How’ve you been?” or, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”. All paired with a masked smile, of course.

You found yourself scanning your perimeter as you walked to Nadia’s front door and twisted your hand on the unlocked door knob. One last deep, deep breath was sucked in between your teeth and out through your nose as you stepped into the unknown.

To be continued

[mononijikayu]

ligaya — itadori yuuji.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!” Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?” Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?” Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Hugging, Track and Field! Yuuji, Pole Vaulter! Reader;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i got the idea for this after i kept seeing olympic couples and olympians and their partners just be the epitome of love in paris. itadori yuuji just felt perfect for something like this. and so does the song ligaya by eraserheads. anyway, i love you all!!! ill see you guys on together. that's about to get sad, but im not sure if it will have sad smut. we shall see~

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if you want to, tip! <3

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

IF HE SPOKE TO HIS CHILD SELF, HE WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Because, how can he explain it? Him? The Itadori Yuuji— head over heels in love. It felt like a fever dream that can only come from fantasies. How could he be in love at all?

How did this even happen? When he swore that he didn’t need that in his life? Over doing his track practice? More than his mother’s food? He thinks that his younger self would have ended up with a coma. Hell, maybe Todo or his brothers — even Uncle Sukuna would be in shock.

Itadori Yuuji never imagined himself as the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels in love. Sure, he was friendly, enthusiastic, and had a smile for just about everyone, but love? It seemed like an impossible notion.

Perhaps an even more ridiculous thing. A feeling that was not for him, not in that way most people dream of. That was for other people, is what he always said—until you transferred into his department. 

The moment Yuuji first laid eyes on you, it was like the world around him faded into the background, leaving only you and the pole vault. He had seen countless athletes, witnessed incredible feats of strength and agility, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you.

The way you moved, your body soaring through the air with effortless grace, made it seem like defying gravity was just second nature to you. To him, it was like watching poetry in motion—a dance between you and the sky.

Something inside him shifted as he watched you clear the bar with ease, your landing smooth and controlled, as if you had done it a thousand times before. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pull, a deep, unexplainable connection that made his heart race. You were different—strong, confident, and so completely at ease in your own skin.

It wasn’t just your athleticism that drew him in, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way you seemed to own every moment, how you faced challenges head-on, your eyes always focused on the next goal. There was a fire in you, a determination that Yuuji couldn’t help but admire.

He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to you, why his heart beat a little faster whenever you were near. All he knew was that something had changed, like a switch had been flipped inside him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in deep—so deep that there was no going back.

It was as though he had never truly seen the sun before that moment, like he had been wandering through life in a shadowy half-light, only to look up at you, soaring above the earth, and finally see the full brilliance of day. You were the sun, radiating warmth and light, and for the first time, Yuuji felt truly alive.

So, Yuuji did what he did best—he jumped in with both feet, headfirst and heart open, determined to win you over. It was how he approached everything in life, with boundless energy and optimism, believing that if he just gave it his all, anything was possible. He didn’t hesitate to show you how much you meant to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve, unafraid to make grand gestures.

He showed up at your practices, cheering you on, even when you barely acknowledged him. He left notes in your locker, little reminders that he was thinking of you, that he was rooting for you, no matter what. He even stood outside your dorm window one night, singing a goofy love song, hoping to make you smile.

But you kept saying no.

Each time, you turned him down, politely but firmly. You appreciated his efforts, you said, but you were focused on your sport, on your goals. There wasn’t room for distractions, and you couldn’t afford to let anyone—no matter how sweet or determined—get in the way of what you were trying to achieve.

Yuuji understood, or at least he tried to. But it didn’t make it any easier. Every “no” felt like a small cut, stinging just a bit more than the last. But despite the rejection, Yuuji couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something about you, something that kept pulling him back, making him want to try again, to prove that he could be the one to make you happy.

And it wasn’t the kind of no that meant “maybe later” or “try harder,” it was a clear, polite, and definitive no. You were kind about it, of course, always smiling and thanking him for the effort, but Yuuji could see through it. Because that’s who you were. You were sunshine itself.

And so each time, even if it became repetitive, you smiled at him and treated him kindly. Even though you weren’t interested, you were interested in being his friend and perhaps, he could live with that. But something in him, the most honest part of him knew that he couldn’t let go. 

Each time you turned him away, Yuuji felt the sting, but he also felt the same determination rising within him. He wasn’t discouraged; he was driven. He saw each rejection as a challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, much like the ones he faced on the track.

And just like in his races, he wasn’t going to back down until he crossed the finish line. To Yuuji, it wasn’t about winning you over for the sake of it—it was about showing you that someone could care that much, that deeply, and that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always get back up. Because to him, you were worth every effort, every bruise, and every tear.

Today here he was, sitting in the school’s café, his head on the table, groaning as Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki sat across from him, trying their best to look patient. They were supposed to be working on their on class presentation for Cardiorespiratory Fitness by now, but with Yuuji being an utter lovestruck mess — his two friends were sure that they wouldn’t be able to get any work done.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!”

Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?”

Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Love? Yuuji, that’s pretty heavy. Are you sure it’s love?”

Yuuji nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I think I really do. I just want to be part of their world, you know? Make them happy, love them. I’d even help with their thesis if that’s what it takes! And that says a lot, because we’re on different levels! They’re smarter!”

Nobara rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You can’t make someone love you, Yuuji. Maybe you should back off a bit and just be their friend. They might appreciate that more.”

Yuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping as he thought about it. The idea of stepping back, of not doing everything he could to win you over, made his heart ache. He had poured so much of himself into trying to make you see how much he cared, but maybe Nobara was right.

“But what if they never see me as more than that?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What if I’m just that annoying guy who keeps bothering them?”

Nobara softened at his vulnerability. She wasn’t used to seeing Yuuji like this—so unsure, so worried. “Yuuji, you’re not annoying. Well, not more than usual.” she said, her tone gentler than before.

"Hey!"

“But listen, you’re sweet, and anyone can see how much you care. But sometimes, people need space. They need time to figure out their own feelings without any pressure. If you really care about them, you’ll give them that space.”

Yuuji nodded slowly, but the doubt lingered. He had always been the type to go all in, to give everything he had to the people he cared about. Holding back didn’t come naturally to him. “I just don’t want to lose them.” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Megumi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his tone measured and calm. “Yuuji, you won’t lose them by giving them space. In fact, it might be what they need to see you in a different light. But you have to be patient, and you have to respect their choice.”

Yuuji looked at Megumi, searching his friend’s eyes for reassurance. “But what if they never change their mind? What if they never see me the way I see them?”

Megumi leaned forward, his gaze steady and full of understanding. “Then you have to accept that.” he said firmly. “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force someone to feel something they don’t. If they ever change their mind, they’ll let you know. But until then, don’t push too hard. It’ll only make things worse.”

Yuuji absorbed Megumi’s words, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest. He knew Megumi was right—it wasn’t fair to push you into something you weren’t ready for, or maybe something you didn’t want at all. But the thought of just being your friend, of stepping back, felt like giving up on something he wanted more than anything.

Nobara reached out, placing a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes, being a good friend is more important than trying to be something more. If you really care about them, you’ll be there for them, no matter what. And who knows? Maybe that’s what they need to realize how special you are.”

Yuuji looked between his two friends, their words sinking in. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was the right one. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll back off… but I won’t stop caring.”

Megumi nodded approvingly. “That’s all you can do, Yuuji. Just be yourself, and let them come to you if they’re ready.”

Nobara smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

Yuuji managed a small smile, the weight in his chest easing just a little. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.” 

Nobara nodded approvingly, while Megumi gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Yuuji might have been hopelessly in love, but at least he was starting to understand that sometimes, the best way to love someone was to let them come to you in their own time. And he’ll be patient. He knows how to do that. His brother Choso taught him how to be. 

As they continued to sit together, Yuuji couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and uncertainty. He didn’t know what the future held, but he was grateful for friends who would support him through it all. For now, he’d focus on being the best friend he could be. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. It had to be. He believes it to be.

Over the next few days, Yuuji did his best to dial things back. He still watched you from afar during practice, his heart skipping a beat every time you cleared the bar with that effortless grace. But instead of approaching you with grand gestures or serenades, he tried to be more subtle, more considerate. 

He’d offer a friendly wave when you caught his eye and cheer you on quietly during your pole vaulting sessions. Every now and then, he’d strike up casual conversations, asking how your day was going or chatting about track and field events. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time he saw you, he had to fight the urge to blurt out how he felt, to tell you that all he wanted was to be with you. 

One afternoon, you were sitting on a bench after practice, cooling down and scrolling through your phone when Yuuji approached you cautiously. He noticed that you seemed a little tired, maybe even a bit stressed.

“Hey.” he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. “How’s it going? You look like you could use a break.”

You glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Been working on my thesis, and it’s been kind of a headache.”

Yuuji’s eyes lit up. This was it—an opportunity to help you without being too pushy. “Really? What’s it about? Maybe I could help somehow?”

You hesitated for a moment, and Yuuji’s heart raced, hoping you wouldn’t shut him down again. But then you sighed and leaned back on the bench. “It’s about the biomechanics of pole vaulting, actually. I’m trying to analyze different techniques and how they affect performance, but the data’s all over the place.”

Yuuji nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying rather than the fact that you were actually talking to him about something important. “That sounds tough. But hey, I’m pretty good at organizing stuff—maybe I could help you sort through the data or something?”

To his surprise, you didn’t immediately say no. Instead, you looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. “You really want to help?”

“Of course!” Yuuji said quickly, not wanting to sound too eager but failing miserably. “I mean, only if you want me to. I don’t want to, you know, be a bother.”

You chuckled softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “Alright, Yuuji. I could use an extra pair of eyes on this. But just so you know, it’s going to be boring. Like, really boring.”

Yuuji grinned, feeling a surge of hope. “Boring’s fine with me. As long as I can help you out.”

Over the next few weeks, you and Yuuji spent more time together, working on your thesis. He was true to his word—organizing data, making notes, and offering encouragement whenever you hit a rough patch. He didn’t push his feelings, didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he focused on being there for you, just as Megumi and Nobara had suggested.

And as time went on, you started to see a different side of Yuuji. He wasn’t just the guy who sang outside your window or left notes in your locker. He was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in your work. He made you laugh, and he always seemed to know when you needed a break or a bit of encouragement.

One evening, after hours of working on your thesis, you were utterly exhausted. The words on the screen blurred together, your eyes heavy with sleep. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.

Yuuji, who had been quietly organizing some of your research papers, noticed the slump in your shoulders and the tired sigh that escaped your lips. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”

You shook your head, trying to muster the energy to keep going. “I can’t. I still have so much to do, and the deadline is coming up fast.”

Yuuji crouched down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “I know, but you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this. Just a short break, okay? I’ll make you some tea, and we can relax for a bit.”

Before you could protest, Yuuji was already in the kitchen, brewing a pot of your favorite tea. You watched him move with practiced ease, grateful for his presence. When he returned, he handed you a steaming mug and smiled. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.”

You took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your hands, and let out a tired sigh. “Thanks, Yuuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yuuji’s smile softened as he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. I’m here to help. And right now, you need to rest.”

He gently guided you to the couch, where you reluctantly settled down, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. Yuuji sat beside you, his presence comforting and reassuring. As you sipped your tea, the tension in your body began to ease, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Yuuji noticed the way you were fighting to stay awake, and with a soft chuckle, he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. “It’s okay if you want to close your eyes for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You looked at him, his warm eyes and gentle smile, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore. The stress that had been weighing you down seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Maybe just for a little while, you know?” you mumbled, already feeling yourself drifting off.

Yuuji nodded, watching as your eyes slowly closed, your breathing evening out as sleep took over. He stayed by your side, keeping watch as you slept, ready to offer support the moment you needed it. And as he looked at you, peaceful and relaxed, he felt a deep sense of contentment. This was all he wanted—to be there for you, to make sure you were okay, to be part of your world in whatever way you would allow.

As the evening turned into night, Yuuji gently adjusted the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing beside him, and smiled to himself. He didn’t need anything else. As long as he could be there for you, that was enough.

When you woke up the next morning, your eyes fluttered softly against the sunlight streaming in through the window. You felt warmth beside you, and as you turned your head, inches away was Itadori Yuuji, still fast asleep. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

For a moment, you just watched him, taking in the peaceful expression on his face. You’d never noticed before how calm and serene everything felt when he was around. It was as if all the chaos in your mind quieted just by being near him.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, almost one of relief. You were glad that it was him—that he was the one who stayed with you, who was always there. This sweet angel, who had gone out of his way to support you, to make sure you were okay.

“I might as well cook you some breakfast.” you whispered to yourself, smiling at the thought. You carefully stood up, making sure not to wake him. As you passed by him, you couldn’t resist letting your fingers brush lightly through his fuchsia hair. “You worked hard, Yuuji.” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.

You made your way to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of his presence still wrapping around you. As you started preparing breakfast, the sound of sizzling eggs and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft rustling from the couch, followed by a sleepy yawn.

Yuuji appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably tousled. When he saw you, a bashful smile spread across his face, and his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Good….morning.” he greeted you timidly, still half-asleep.

You turned to him, returning his smile. “Good morning, Yuuji. Did at least manage to sleep somewhat okay?”

He nodded, his gaze drifting to the breakfast you were preparing. “Yeah, I did. Thanks… for everything.”

You set down the spatula and walked over to him, your heart warming at his shy demeanor. “No, Yuuji, thank you…..” you said earnestly, your eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me with everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Yuuji’s blush deepened, and he quickly waved off your gratitude as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I could help.”

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “It’s not nothing, Yuuji. It’s a big deal to me. You’ve been here, doing all this because… because you’re a good person. And I know it’s also because you like me.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, you continued, your voice growing softer, more vulnerable. “I… I feel something for you too, Yuuji. I didn’t realize it before, but… I do. It’s just… I want to take things slow.”

You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what he would say, or how he would react, but you needed to be honest with him.

Yuuji stood there for a moment, processing your words. Then, a gentle smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with warmth. “I understand.” he said quietly. He reached out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m just happy to know you feel something for me too.”

You looked up at him, relief and happiness washing over you. His hand in yours was warm, comforting, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. “Thank you, Yuuji,” you whispered.

He shook his head, still smiling. “No, thank you. For letting me be part of your world.”

As you stood there, holding hands in the morning light, the aroma of breakfast filling the air, everything felt just right. There was no rush, no pressure—just the promise of something real, something that could grow into something beautiful, one step at a time.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

YOU MADE IT THE OLYMPICS, THE TWO OF YOU. The day you found out you had qualified for the Olympics felt like a dream. All the hard work, the long hours of training, the sacrifices—it had all paid off. You were going to the Olympics. And as if the universe had planned it, Yuuji had qualified too, in track and field. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything you’d both worked so hard for. 

But what you hadn’t expected was the way your feelings for Yuuji would grow, almost as if they were catching up to the realization that he had been right there beside you all along.

You admired his determination, his relentless positivity, but you kept your distance, unsure if you could let someone in when you were so focused on your goals. Yet, Itadori Yuuji never wavered. He was at every pole vault tournament, even the ones miles away, often booking tickets last minute just to make sure he was there.

Even if he has to move around stuff for his own practice, even if he had other projects he had to do. It didn't matter. He wanted to be there. He wanted to go and see you and cheer you on. And every time, without fail, whether you won or lost, he would be in the front row, holding flowers and a letter, his bright smile shining through the crowd. 

At first, you didn’t know how to react. How does one manage to, when such devoted acts are offered to you so genuinely, in front of the world? How would one function, when there’s so much love given by one person that it could fill the world with pints of it. You were touched, truly. But of course I was also confused. You could feel your palms sweaty, when he tries to take your hand to hold. Or when he smiles, you feel like you have butterflies in your tummy. 

Was this really just a crush for him? What are crushes supposed to be like? You don’t think you remember. The last time you had a crush, it was on a 2D anime character. And that’s not a real experience. Or was it something more? You had to think it through. You care about him deeply, you do. But what do you actually feel for him? What does he actually mean to you? What is he to you?

Over time, though, as you saw how much he truly cared—not just about you as an athlete, but as a person—you started to see him differently. You noticed how he never pressured you, how he respected your space, but always made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what.

You began to anticipate his presence at your tournaments, looking forward to seeing his face in the crowd. His letters, filled with words of encouragement and affection, became something you treasured, often reading them late at night when you needed a boost.

And then, one day, as you stood on the podium after a particularly grueling tournament, looking out into the crowd, your eyes locked with Yuuji’s. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his smile as radiant as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of pride, love, and unwavering support—that made your heart skip a beat. 

In that moment, you realized that you had fallen for him. 

It wasn’t just his persistence or his kindness; it was the way he made you feel seen and valued, both on and off the field. He didn’t just love you for your achievements—he loved you for who you were, even when you were at your lowest. And that was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After the ceremony, you found Yuuji waiting for you, just like he always did. He handed you the flowers, a bashful smile on his face. “You were amazing out there, you know!” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But you always are.”

You took the flowers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the compliments. “Thanks, Yuuji.” you said softly, looking up at him. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you’re always here.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the shift in your tone. “You don’t have to thank me, pretty.” he said quickly. “I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? I care about you. A lot.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the words you’d been holding back finally rise to the surface. “I know. And I care about you too, Yuuji. More than I realized.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you were saying. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—one of pure, unfiltered joy. “Really?”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Really. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Yuuji.”

His reaction was immediate—he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet as he spun you around, laughing like he’d just won the lottery. When he finally set you down, he looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart flutter. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long!” he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion. “But it was worth it. Every single second. You will always be worth it. All of it.”

As you stood there, surrounded by the noise of the crowd and the smell of fresh flowers, you realized that your dream had come true in more ways than one. You had qualified for the Olympics, yes, but you had also found something even more precious—someone who loved you for who you were, someone who would stand by your side no matter what. And as you leaned in to kiss Yuuji, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

epilogue 

The energy at the Olympic Stadium was electric, buzzing with anticipation as the final race approached. You sat in the stands, surrounded by a sea of spectators, but your focus was entirely on the track below. Itadori Yuuji stood at the starting line, his gaze steady, his body coiled like a spring ready to launch.

You knew how much this race meant to him—how much he’d poured into his training, how every ounce of his determination was about to be unleashed in those few, crucial seconds.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, signaling the start, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in sync with the cheers around you. Then, the gun fired, and Yuuji shot forward, a blur of speed and power. The crowd roared, but you were barely aware of it, your eyes locked on him, silently urging him on.

He moved like lightning, his form perfect, his strides long and powerful. You could see the intensity in his every movement, the sheer will driving him forward. As he rounded the final bend, you knew—he was going to do it. He was going to break the world record.

The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Yuuji crossed the finish line, the clock stopping at a time that stunned everyone. A world record. Yuuji had just shattered it.

But even before the cheers had fully erupted, Yuuji’s eyes were scanning the stands, searching for you. The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the cameras, the officials, and the chaos around him, he sprinted toward you, leaping over the barrier with ease.

And then he was there, in front of you, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a passion that took your breath away. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mixture of disbelief and pure joy. He laughed, a sound filled with triumph and love, and then he threw his arms up in the air, shouting, “I did it! I did it! I’ve got you and a medal! This is the best day of my life, oh my god!"

The crowd around you erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could focus on was Yuuji—his infectious energy, the way his hands were still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe you were real. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, tears of joy filling your eyes.

“You did it, Yuuji!” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. “Babe, you broke the world record. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned, pulling you close again, this time resting his forehead against yours. “None of this would’ve meant anything without you here. You’re the one I wanted to share this with. You’re my everything, pretty.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it clear just how much this moment—and you—meant to him. 

“I love you, Yuuji.” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands.

“I love you too.” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And this… this is just the beginning. We’ve got so much more to look forward to—together.”

As you stood there, holding each other amidst the chaos and celebration of the Olympic Stadium, you knew that you had found something far greater than any medal or record.

You had found the person who would stand by your side, through every challenge and triumph, the one who had captured your heart with his unwavering love and dedication. And as Yuuji lifted you off the ground, spinning you around with pure, uncontainable joy, you realized that you had truly won in every way that mattered.

[mysticalserenity-tarot]

🧸♡ what they like about you♡🧸 (Pick a pile)

{How to pick a pile? First, take a deep breath with your eyes closed to clear your mind. When you open your eyes, don't hesitate – pick the image that immediately grabs your attention or stirs up a memory. Remember, you can pick more than one pile if you feel called to. If none of the images stand out for you, it means there's no message for you at this time. You can always come back to it later.}

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Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3 (from left to right)

Hello, and a huge thank you to everyone for your incredible support! I'm so glad that my first Pac has been so well-received.

In this collective pick a pile reading, we'll delve into what your specific person likes and appreciates about you. You can consider this the continuation of my first Pac, if you prefer. Let's see where your energy takes us.

Disclaimer: This is a collective reading I picked up on multiple energies, so please only take what resonates and leave the rest. When something resonates you usually feel a light energy and in your heart you can feel it's your message, and the pic that attracts you is a clearly sign.

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🧸PILE 1🧸

2 of Pentacles, the Hierophant, Page of Swords. (top: 4 of Pentacles)

Hi Pile 1, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

This is a delightful and quircky energy. As multiple cards representing the number 2 kept coming out. Your person seems to want me to know that they love how you balance your light energy with your dark energy underlining the importance of this aspect in their mind, and they feel a connection because they share similar traits - from you previous reading, I sensed this affinity. This is either my spiritually inclined collective or those who resonate with a sense of inner peace and balance. If you've chosen this pile, bravo! You've made the right choice! [ it's okay if you're new, welcome <3 ]

I sense that many of you are in your prime years, and your person appreciates your vibrant youthful energy. Regardless of your age, they believe you'll fill a void and complete them, like a "missing puzzle piece", as I just heard. Many of you have a deep love for reading and acquiring knowledge, which may or may not be associated with formal education. I sense that you might prefer solitude, perhaps engrossed in your favorite book, while your classmates or colleagues (if in a work setting) are gathered discussing different things. Therefore, your person finds captivating the way you immerse yourself in your activities amidst the 'chaos' surrounding you. Some even observe and admire you from afar, potentially without your awareness. Your person finds you inspiring and loves how you handle problems with patience and diplomacy, without letting anger and stress take over. They also appreciate your thirst for knowledge and how you're curious about diverse topics. Your person values how secure you are in yourself and how you stand by your values and beliefs.

Overall, they are drawn to your mysterious yet serene, and intellectual nature, making you almost like an enigma to them. 🧙‍♂️✨

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 1.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.

🧸PILE 2🧸

The Star, 9 of Swords, the Tower. (top: Ace of Swords)

Hi Pile 2, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Ah, Pile 2, based on the energy of the cards, your person has clear ideas about what they appreciate about you.

You possess strong manifesting skills and when you are certain about what you desire, you make it happen, I'm hearing the song "I Want It, I Got It" by Ariana Grande in my mind. For you, I have two cards confirming your innate manifesting power. You may have powerful water placements or inner planetary influences in your water houses (if you're not into astrology and don't know what i'm talking about, please feel free to ask). Some strong air energy is also sensed, whether it pertains to you or your person - one of you has great communication skills even. Your person finds it remarkable that you can create positive outcomes in adverse situations, emerging even stronger after initial doubts or negative emotions. This is not only temporary but a trait your person admires in you.

The energy here feels mature, likely older regardless of your age (old souls, perhaps?), indicating that some of you actually laugh in the face of adversity due to an innate ability to rise above struggles. Your determination draws your person's admiration; they struggle while you have clear goals and pursue them despite what others may think. You may receive sudden insights or instincts, unaware of their source, which are hints from the divine. Your person loves your strong will and determination, which they lack and need. This is one of the reasons they're attracted to you. I'm also sensing some popular individuals here, possibly on social media. Your determination, strength, and success have garnered success, with many followers and admirers, including your person. However, for those not yet successful, if you stick to your path and mindset, you'll reach your goals. Best of luck, my dears! 🍀🧿

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 2.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.

🧸PILE 3🧸

Queen of Wands, The Sun, the Lovers. (top: Knight of Cups)

Hi Pile 3, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Wow, your cards are amazing, Pile 3! This person is head over heels in love with you, and the question is, what do they like about you? As I look at the cards as a whole, I'm feeling an intense passion surrounding you. They're burning with desire for you - sparks or flames, especially the color red may be significant (and for some a sign that is your pile!. Some of you may have worked or are working on your Root Chakra, which fuels this intense passion. I'm not supposed to do a spicy reading here but I'm feeling really hot lol. It's important to not a strong presence of two Major Arcana cards in a positive and powerful sequence, underlining this passionate hidden desire. Your person admires your overall positivity and passion for life, or specific interests. You may be a hopeless romantic, and they find this endearing. They perceive you as a powerful and passionate leader who remains unfazed by gossip about them and actually enjoys the attention.

It's intriguing that the Knight of Cups appeared on top of the deck in my previous pick up pile and has come up again here. You and your person may both be dreamy and romantic souls. In summary, your person appreciates your positivity, harmony, and artistic nature. You might be a creative individual, perhaps making unique art or being an enthusiast of it. They are fascinated by you and have vivid fantasies, like going to an art museum together.

I'm seeing blue stars on a blue neon ceiling in a potential art museum setting, which could be significant for some of you - and also the color blue. Now, very specific, maybe someone here has created a drawing or work with stars or blue stars on a blue background and shared it with their person and they're reminding me of it, or you or them work in a planetary museum? Take it how it resonates. Anyway, how cute! 💙

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 3.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the pricetogether.

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ANY LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT IS APPRECIATED, ALSO IF YOU LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATED.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EACH ONE OF YOU'S SUPPORT, I'M GRATEFUL 🤗🤍

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Please note that I used AI language bot to help improve grammar and spelling in my readings, as English is not my first language. However, the interpretations and insights provided in my readings are all my work, based on my intuition and the cards' symbolism.

Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.

[eufezco]

HEART TO HEART — FINNICK ODAIR x FEM!READER

Synopsis — It's hard to get your life back on track when the Capitol has gotten inside your head but Finnick is there to help you. You were enjoying a party in District 13 when you discovered something that triggered you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And I break down, then he's pulling me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Finnick looked at Katniss and considered himself a lucky man.

Although both of them had managed to get back the loves of their lives, their situations now were quite different from what they were used to. Finnick now looked at Peeta and realized how the Capitol had completely destroyed the friend he made in the games, making him incapable of telling the difference between what was real and what the Capitol put in his head. Finnick saw the sadness grow in Katniss' eyes as she and Peeta couldn't spend more than five minutes together without him wanting to jump on her neck.

You, on the other hand, had your moments of lucidity.

Finnick considered himself lucky for being able to enjoy the person you were before the Capitol took you, but the longer those moments lasted, the worse your breakdowns were.

Even though he considered himself luckier than Katniss, it wasn't being easy for him either. He hated to see you fighting the medical team from District 13 while they were trying to inject you with a sedative and the way he had to hold you so they could do it. He hated to see you with your hands and legs tied to the bed as you tried to free yourself from the straps that held you to the mattress. He hated to see your eyes red with rage, the way you flinched when someone made an unexpected move next to you, and how you could not help but be alert to everything that was going on around you.

But Finnick also appreciated when he saw you smile, or talking to someone who wasn't him, or seeing that you had changed your clothes that day or enjoying your meal in the dining room. The way your eyelashes fluttered when he spoke to you like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, how you were always looking to have some sort of physical contact with him whether it was sitting too close at the table or something more subtle like seeking for his hand in the crowd as you listened to the words that Alma Coin pronounced.

The Capitol caused irreparable damage but they had not been able to take everything from you.

―Let's give a huge round of applause to Sarah and Mike from District 11!

The two siblings had been singing since dinner was over along with their band. The lights in the dining room were dimmer, not the cold white ones that gave you a headache every time you went inside. They had set up a small stage and some decorations on the ceiling. Alma Coin knew that Christmas was close and wanted to do something special to raise people's spirits, and it seemed to be working because after dinner, people had stayed to listen to the siblings sing, and some had even encouraged to go out and dance.

―We still have time for a couple more songs, any requests? ―The boy spoke into the microphone, looking at the audience.

It was your hand that rose.

Finnick and Katniss who were sitting at the table with you looked at each other. You got up from the table and walked to the stage, well, you didn't feel your feet moving on the floor, it was more like you were floating. You were enjoying the little concert so much that you had managed to remember all the lyrics of the songs that they had performed when just a few days ago you couldn't even remember your name, your feet moved under the table following the rhythm of the instruments and you even hummed some of the words.

Both siblings approached the edge of the stage and bent down to listen to the title of the song you were asking for. They looked at each other, satisfied, and more than approving your request. You went back to your seat at the table, happy, and before Katniss and Finnick could ask about the song, the little girl called your name through the microphone.

―Why don't you come and sing with us? ―She asked you in her sweet voice. All the people in the dining room were waiting for your answer, some you knew were encouraging you to come up like Haymitch and Effie, and others you knew were judging you just by the way their eyes were on you like Gale, but you didn't care because since your return you had never wanted anything so much as to get on that stage with those two kids.

Finnick held your hand, his eyebrows drawn together. ―Are you sure?

You nodded and showed him a little smile, reassuring him.

They welcomed you with smiles and sweet gestures to show you where to stand. They had placed a microphone in the middle of the two siblings for you.

―May I? ―You asked for the guitar the young girl was holding. She showed you a smile and gave it to you. The guitar felt out of place in your hands, as if it was a stranger and it was the first time you were meeting each other. That was not the truth, the truth was that you had been playing the guitar for as long as you could remember. You liked to play it for the children at District 4 while they sat around the campfire in the sand accompanied by Finnick and they sang with you. But now it all seemed so far away and the instrument felt odd in between your fingers.

You coughed to clear your throat without realizing that you did it right into the microphone. Finnick smiled at how innocent that had been and you smiled embarrassed. ―Sorry.

The two siblings from District 11 were looking at you with their big eyes and with smiles of comfort on their faces, waiting for you to start singing but all those people staring at you was all you could think about. You couldn't remember how the lyrics started.

Finnick nodded at you from the audience.

Can't take my past Can't take my history

The little girl sang for you. There was a friendly expression on her face. Her eyebrows were raised as she was singing the beginning of the song and she nodded as she looked at you, trusting that you knew the words and helping you with her kind gesture to find them.

You could take my pa But his name's a mystery

Her brother continued singing. A similar expression was on his face. Apart from your friends and Finnick, you had trouble finding people who trusted you in District 13. You didn't blame them because even you found it hard to trust yourself.

Nothing you can take from me Was ever worth keeping Nothing you can take Was ever worth keeping

Your voice didn't sound as you expected, it was still the same sweet voice as always. You expected to have completely destroyed it after all the screaming you did at the Capitol, but no, your voice was still there, just as Finnick remembered it. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears because he knew you were watching him.

The band played the song perfectly on their instruments while you tried to follow them on the guitar and more people listening to the lively rhythm of the song came out and danced in the center of the dining room.

Can't take my charm Can't take my humor You can't take my wealth 'Cause it's just a rumor Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Those lines you were singing meant so much, it was like pulling the middle finger to the Capitol. He had never seen you so happy since before the Quarter Quell. There was a smile on your lips while you sang, your body moved to the rhythm of the son, your hands moved skilfully on the guitar, and the boy and the girl from District 11 danced on the stage around you.

―Come on. ―Katniss stood and Finnick looked up at her with his green eyes glassy thanks to the tears.

―Come on where? ―Finnick asked.

―We're gonna dance.

Katniss took his hands and dragged him to the dance floor.

Thinking you're so fine, thinking you can have mine Thinking you're in control Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

You laughed into the microphone watching them and you handed the little girl her guitar back. You came down from the stage to join them. Katniss stepped back when she saw you coming and you followed Finnick's movements. He had always been a very good dancer so you let him lead you. You twirled around, laughing, until you were so dizzy that you had to wrap your arms around Finnick's neck, your fingers digging into his hair while his arms went around your waist.

―You were amazing. ―He told you, speaking a little louder so that you could hear him over the music. You hugged him again.

―I love you so much.

Finnick cupped both of your cheeks and kissed you. ―I love you too. ―He said before the group of little girls pulled you by the arm so you'd dance with them.

He kept dancing or something like that with Katniss but with his eyes fixed on you. The girls were being so nice; two of them held your hands while the other two were dancing on their own. Their hairs were tied up in braids and they even asked you if they could braid yours later.

But all of a sudden, you let go of their hands and took a few steps backward, bumping into the people dancing. The girls looked at you worried, had they done something wrong? ―No, no, no. ―You mumbled to yourself.

Finnick stopped and approached you quickly, pushing people out of his way when he saw the change in your mood. He took your face in between his hands, looking for your eyes but they were focused on something that wasn't him. You pushed him once his hands cupped your cheeks, only making eye contact with him for a few seconds and then going back to focus on something else.

When Finnick decided to follow your gaze, he felt a wave of heat form in his lower body and rise to his head. Cressida was behind Castor, directing how the shots of you dancing with the girls should look like. By that time you already left the room.

You tried to record a propo a few days after your arrival in District 13. Heavensbee, but especially Coin, were very insistent that you should do it. They said that your rescue and your dedication to the revolution would bring hope to the people resisting in the districts. You weren't too sure about it, much less Finnick and Katniss, who could see how bad was your state to be exposed to something like that.

You were still in a daze, confused with everything that was going on, and very weak physically when you stood in front of the camera in the ruins of District 13 covered with white roses. The smell of the flowers made you fall to your knees in the debris before Finnick could catch you and throw up everything you had eaten since you were taken out of the Capitol.

―I'm okay, I can do this. ―You said, wiping your mouth with the cuff of your uniform, but it was not true and you found out that when you got in front of the camera. Castor pointed the lens at you while Cressida repeated behind him what you were supposed to say. The spotlights were on you and also were the eyes of the president herself, who had come to the surface to see you film the propo, and suddenly you were back at the Capitol, sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman, drugged to the point where you could not remember your name just the words they'd been repeating for you to say during the interview. Your outfit was tight, your face was covered with powder and make-up so that the bruises would not be visible.

―Don't make me regret rescuing you. ―Alma Coin said to you with a smile on her face before the propo. Something similar to what he told you when the Capitol took you out of the arena.

―Don't make me regret not killing you.

After that day, only one type of images of you was broadcast for the rest of the districts to see and they were of you living your life in District 13, recording you when you didn't notice and taking advantage of the moments when you were doing well to show it to the rest of the nation and obviously, without your consent.

Finnick was not happy with that decision and he made sure to make it clear at the meeting at which it was discussed, shouting, running his hands over his face, offering himself to do all the propos they wanted. He was desperate to get them to let you recover in peace.

Katniss agreed with Finnick. She did not like the idea of turning you into a product to fool people into thinking that everything was fine, much less without having your approval. Haymitch and Effie were silent but neither did they agree with what Alma Coin wanted to do with you and Beetee suggested other options but nothing was as valuable to Alma as your image.

The only ones who openly agreed with Heavensbee and Coin were Cressida and Gale. She said that it would be good for the spirit of rebellion and that they would do it so discreetly that you would never know. On the other hand, it seemed like Gale had a lot to say even though he didn't know you at all, and because of that, he ended up in the infirmary that afternoon after he replied to Finnick's complaints by saying:

―There are times when we have to do things we don't want to do, you should know that better than anyone else.

And Finnick couldn't help himself and get up from his seat and before Gale could finish speaking Finnick's fist was already against his cheekbone. That same hand with which Finnick hit Katniss' friend was now smacking Castor's camera into the floor, a gasp could be heard from the people who had stopped dancing to see what was happening. Finnick pointed at Cressida with his index finger, threateningly.

―I warned you to keep that shit away from her.

Katniss was fast to intervene, stepping in between Finnick and the woman. She looked at Cressida with pure rage but knew she couldn't do anything with all those people watching ―Go find her.

Finnick approached the girls you had been dancing with. He knelt by their side. ―Did you see where she went? ―He asked kindly to them, perfectly hiding his nervousness. One of them pointed at one of the doors and he immediately knew where you were. He flashed a smiled to her as a thank you.

―Have we done something wrong? ―She played with her hands.

―No, she was having lots of fun with you. ―Finnick caressed the hair at the top of the little girl's head and stood on his feet.

―When you find her, please tell her we still want to braid her hair.

You were sitting on the floor, holding your legs close to your chest. You had already hidden in that place several times before. It was Katniss who found the first time because it was the same place where she would hide right after she was rescued.

You moved back and forth, mumbling words that Finnick could not decipher, and with your head down, your forehead resting on your arms. When you heard Finnick's footsteps getting closer, you tried to escape him, crawling backward and watching as he quickly approached so that you couldn't get too far away. He fell to his knees in front of you, grabbing your cheeks again to make you look at him.

―It's me. It's Finnick.

You analysed his face, your eyes moving fast across his face looking for any friendly features on that face but all you could see was the face of a traitor. Your lips trembled as they continued to mumble I don't think I can forgive him for what he's doing, Caesar. I didn't know Finnick Odair was like that, I didn't know he would join the rebellion. What you do in the games is one thing but what you do outside the arena is what defines you.

―You're safe. We're in District 13, you're not there anymore.

You're right, Caesar. He has tricked me into thinking he was someone he is not. I thank president Snow everyday for helping me realize.

―You're from District 4. We live together. Our house is near to the beach. You won the 72th Hunger Games. We went back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol took you. I'm Finnick Odair. I was your mentor along with Max.

If he were watching this I would tell him to think for himself. It's not too late to start doing things right and stop this war, and if he is unrepentant and this has always been his true self, Caesar, I think I may have never lov...

―You're here with us and we will protect you. Katniss is here at District 13 and so are Johanna and Peeta.

...I think I may have never lo...

―You're okay, baby.

...I may have never...

You hugged Finnick tightly against you, your eyes wide open and your hands shaking from the strength you were putting into holding him to be able to feel he was real. ―I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing my mind. ―You cried.

Finnick shook his head while he held you almost as strongly as you held him. He kept whispering sweet words until he felt how your body began to relax. Finnick carefully pulled you away from him so he could use his thumbs to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. ―It's fine, I'm here with you. It's not your fault, they've done horrible things to you but you're with me now, you're safe. They will have to go over my dead body to get their hands on you again.

He helped you to move so that you were sitting on his lap, with your head resting on his chest and his arms around your body. When some time passed and you calmed down, he could see it in the way your body had stopped shaking and also because you had stopped sobbing a while ago but you didn't want to separate from him, Finnick decided to try to cheer you up.

―Do you know who told me where you went?

You shook your head, really curious.

―Those new friends you made on the dance floor.

You pressed your lips into a smile, you were having so much fun with those little girls...―They were so cute, I must have scared them.

Finnick shook his head and kissed your temple. ―Not at all. They told me they'll wait for you. They said they wanted to braid your hair.

Now you really smiled, snuggling into his chest.

―Do you want me to take you to our room?

You shook your head, making yourself comfortable in Finnick's lap. It was not the most comfortable or welcoming place to be but he didn't want to rush you to leave. He was aware that they would be looking for you two, they would take you away from him and lock you in a room next to Peeta's, thinking that you were a menace and putting you in a place where the screams of the boy next door would drive you crazy.

―We can stay here for as long as you want then.

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and focusing on Finnick holding you in between his arms. Thanks to your head on his chest and the silence, you could hear Finnick's heart and you were relieved because it was the realest thing you had ever experienced. Its beats were peaceful but still managed to quiet all the noise in your head.

You were so immersed in Finnick's heartbeat you would swear yours was beating so hard against your chest because it wanted to escape your body so it could be closer to his.

[reallyromealone]

Title: zoo!

Fandom: DC

Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce wayne

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: superbat

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child male reader, reader is Batman's son

Notes:

Summary: Clark wants to bond with Bruce's kids, the two recently starting dating and so starting with the youngest (name), the two go to the zoo

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Clark was excited that he was being trusted with his boyfriends youngest, the two dating for eight months now and finally the time aligned for them! He was gonna take little (name) out for a playdate!

He had hung out with the other batkids previously, both in and out of costume and now it was the youngests turn. (Name) Was crawling down the stairs like a big boy while Bruce walked slowly beside him, the two matching today in turtle necks and nice pants and (name) even wore the same shoes as the billionaire to boot "only thing different is socks and underwear" Bruce huffed a laugh at his son's love to match him and (name) did a little bounce "now, remember to be nice to Clark and don't run off ok?" Bruce spoke to his toddler who looked up at Clark and raised his little arms.

"Told you he liked you" Bruce chuckled as Clark adjusted the boy in his arms, (name) enjoying the height advantage to look around and even tried to get Clark's glasses "nono, baby bat!" Clark teased the boy "ya can't steal my glasses!" He tickled the boys belly who in turn let out little laughs "so what's the plan today, for you two?" Bruce asked, thankful to have a break and Clark was more than happy to give his boyfriend some time to himself.

"We're going to the zoo!" Clark cheered and (name) looked up at him and began clapping, still not the chattiest child but his enthusiasm knew no bounds. "Wow, you hear that? You get to see (animal)!" Bruce was in dad mode at this point, a rare sight that was only seen in private or if needed. (Name) Bounced in the heroes arms and made (animal sounds) as best as the toddler could "he's quiet today" Clark said taking the baby bag from Bruce and slinging it over his shoulder "he's more into sound effects today-- well that and the occasional demand for juice"

(Name) Perked up "joose?" His little voice hopeful and Bruce sighed "later, sweetpea" he promised and (name) let out a dramatic sigh "thirsy..." He wasn't, he just wanted juice and Bruce knew that "you can have water then"

The two bickered a bit before (name) grumbled and turned away from his dad, knowing he lost.

He would just get Clark to do it later.

(Name) Let himself get buckled into the car seat in Clark's car, kicking his little feet and staring at Clark "were gonna have a blast! I know I'm not Bruce but I hope you allow me in your life" (name) didn't quite get what that meant "we get kee?" "We can absolutely get ice cream while were there!" Clark promised the boy who beamed at him.

Bruce had a playlist for (name), trying to avoid him and screens as much a spossible and Clark respected the man's decision and put on the tots playlist and got ready to hear a lot of baby shark and the ants go marching. (Name) Surprisingly kept with the song, stumbling a bit and some words completely nonsense but he sang none the less and Clark couldn't help but join in, the boys clear joy infectious and seeing (name) grin at his happiness made Clark smile.

"Ire!" (Name) Yelled, pointing to a sign that had a tiger on it, resting in Clark's arms while they walked up to the zoo's entrance, Bruce making sure they had exclusive tickets "I understand you can pay for yourself but that won't stop me from spoiling you, you two enjoy yourself" is what he got when trying to argue with Bruce who handed him the VIP tickets and honestly he was thankful, it included free food and special viewing areas that weren't typical to the public. Putting on (name)s hat and some sunscreen to protect them from the Gotham summer rays "there! Now you're ready for the zoo!" He grinned at the tot who punched the air a little, clearly mimicking his brothers "go!" He said determined and Clark couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

The zoo was decently busy, not overly packed thankfully while mascots walked around and (name) looked excited at one of (animal) and began whining and wiggling "you can't run off but we can go say hi" Clark said to the boy who huffed but let the alien carry him towards the costumed person and seeing (name) beam was worth everything "aloom" (name) was happy when a balloon was tied to his arm and waved it around and looked at Clark happy.

First place they went was the big cats, (name) standing infront of the glass while a tiger stared back, Clark snapping photos of the boy mimicking the tigers movements with excitement before looking back at Clark.

From big cats to penguins, (name) enjoyed them all.

Currently the two were eating lunch, (name) eating animal themed food and watered down soda (Bruce warned him that he becomes a monster if he has it not watered down), Clark enjoying some pizza "so whatcha wanna see after lunch?"

"Willa's"

"Gorillas? Sure, but we gotta see the others after"

"Oki doki"

(Name) Was happy to be with Clark, he didn't really get why but he likes the man's company none the less. Getting cool merchandise and even getting to feed the otters much to the boys delight, Clark holding the boy and the various things they got along the way.

Before he knew it, his car had the trunk filled with things for both (name) and the other members of the family, bruce knowing that the boy would want to get stuff for his brothers.

(Name) Was out cold in Clark's arms when he walked up the steps to the manner, the boy clinging helplessly while Bruce watched with fond eyes "he wasn't any trouble?"

"An absolute angel"

"That's good" Bruce mused while taking his tot, the boy subconsciously recognizing his dad's colonge and snuggling into his shoulder "he loved the animals, he had to tell me every fact he knew" Clark teased and Bruce looked at the boy with pride "he does know a lot of facts, he spends a lot of time with Damien"

"If you're willing... Maybe we could all go?"

"Like the whole Kent's and Wayne's?"

"I mean, if that's ok with you?"

"Babe I love you but I think having our children in a space like that would lead to a fire or a kidnapped koala"

".....maybe a trip to my farm?"

"They do love cows"

"Perfect"

[lovely-p-issues]

Fic idea - Astyanax in Ithaca

for times when my English will become acceptable because writing this in Polish feels not right sample of the story under the summary c:

Of course, I was thinking about Penelope's reaction to Odysseus showing up with a new kid (10/11 years old, give or take, Astyanax) at their doors.

I imagined it as the Game of Thrones scene when Ned Stark comes home and shows Catelyn a baby who, he claims, is his bastard. If I were her, I would lose my mind.

But I think that Odysseus explained himself chaotically, yet truly and Penelope didn't fight with the idea of raising the little prince as their own.

But Telemachus? Well, that's a hell of a different story.

He spent his childhood without his father, missing his presence and hoping to meet him one day. He lived in his shadow, as the problematic son of the absent king that everyone wanted to kill, or as a painful reminder to his mother that Odysseus wasn't around anymore and that she needed to be there for the two of them.

Now his dad is back but with a new child.

A new child who knows his father so well. Odysseus was his only parent for ten years (if we forget about 600 uncles, but they died after like 3 years? if I get it right?) and they just get themselves on an impossible level.

Odysseus knows Astyanax's nightmares (they share them).

Astyanax knows his father's past and doesn't need to ask many questions, and Telemachus does. He hates to do it because he sees Odysseus's pain, he sees Astyanax's reproachful look, like he is going to fight Telemachus if he doesn't leave their father, and-

and he sees the sad, concerned eyes of his mom.

So he doesn't ask much about those 20 years. And somehow it's even worse.

Because Telemachus doesn't know Odysseus. Because it feels weird and not home, like they are forced to be close, but they are not. Because he knew his father from songs, stories and legends, and this man is not who he heard of and he doesn't know how can he fix it.

Telemachus doesn't like to think about it but feels like he gives up on Odysseus. He spent the last 20 years of his life trying to reach that man and- Telemachus is tired.

Besides, Odysseus has another son anyway, right?

The prince of Troy, cursed boy, son of Hector, Astyanax, who also turned out to be a pain in the ass.

He knows that he can't blame the kid for his existence or even for the fact that Odysseus took him to their home.

For that Odysseus often takes Astyanax for horse rides to show him the island. The thing that Telemachus did alone.

For that, Odysseus teaches the boy how to use a sword and they laugh a lot during that. The thing that Telemachus did with strangers, got dozens of bruises, always trying to do everything he could to impress the person that wasn't there.

He doesn't blame Astyanax.

He just can't stand him.

But the boy seems to love the idea of going after him whenever Odysseus manages to pull him off for a moment. It's okay when Astyanax watches him during the trainings with eyes shining with excitement. However, it's bad when Astyanax starts to talk.

Father said I'm getting better at parrying-

When I was with father on Calypso's island-

Father does this completely differently-

Telemachus is a patient man. He waited for his father for 20 years. But sometimes he asks himself if Astyanax knows that all this talking about Odysseus, the man he missed but can't actually get to know, is such a trigger for him.

Maybe Astyanax teases him to show how much more of a son Odysseus is?

With every day Telemachus is more and more irritated. He does his best to hide it, but he can't ignore this fire burning him from the inside.

The reason for this fragile peace collapse is, relatively, very stupid.

Telemachus was tired after all day when he met Odysseus.

"The situation in the city is now calmed down,’ he informed his father, combing through his wind-tangled hair."

Odysseus nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Telemachus. Well done."

Telemachus froze, not knowing what to say. He couldn't even move. Finally, he nodded, wincing slightly at the awkwardness of his every interaction with his father.

"Of course, father."

Odysseus seemed equally perplexed. However, the whole situation changed when Astyanax appeared in the courtyard where they stood.

Or, he ran into it, almost toppling over, just to get to Odysseus faster and embrace him around the waist.

"Dad, you will never believe what I found with mother in the garden!"

Telemachus watched with unhealthy interest as his father's face lit up with a smile as he listened to Astyanax's excited chatter.

A sudden anger, though senseless and petty, flared his veins. He had to avert his gaze and drive it into the ground so that no one could see his anger. His jaw was clenched tightly.

Twenty years of life based on a vague memory. An entire journey to find his father. His faith, his efforts and his devotion. All this to not be able to have one real conversation with his father. All this to watch both his parents melt down over his new, little brother. All this to stand by and watch his dreams fade away.

He no longer watched.

He walked away before he could do something stupid. Something that would distance him even further from his father.

He holed up in one of the cool and dark corridors of their palace. He concentrated on his breathing and massaged his temples.

He was an adult and knew how to deal with his feelings. Not that anyone had ever taught him that.

"Telemachus, what's wrong? You don't even know what we found in the garden, you went too fast!"

He didn't know shit about how to deal with his feelings.

"Could you, for five minutes, let me live as I lived before you came along? Five minutes without your constant footsteps and shouting behind my back. Five minutes of peace and quiet! That's all I'm asking for!"

But Astyanax took a few steps back as if frightened by Telemachus' sudden outburst. A grimace twisted his face and he squinted as if Telemachus was an extremely difficult puzzle for his quick mind.

"Why are you so angry? I don't understand."

"At this point? I'm not sure anymore. All I know is that I wasn't this angry even once before you dragged yourself home with father and decided to act as if it had all been yours forever."

Telemachus had to calm down. For bloody hell, he had just shouted at the eleven-year-old as if he was guilty of anything.

‘Are you angry about your father bringing me with him?’

Damn it.

It wasn't true. To be fair, he did not want Astyanax to die that night in Troy or be lost in the depths of the burning city.

Still, did he want him here? He let his thoughts wander before he could finally admit it to himself.

Astyanax, essentially, was not the problem. Everything else was. Telemachus was as well.

"No. There are many other things I'm angry about, but not this."

He sat down on the floor and leaned against the cool wall. He hid his face in his hands and let the anger leave him with his next breaths.

"Forgive my shouting. You got me at the wrong time, brother."

And he heard the boy slowly slide down the wall and sit down a few steps away from him.

"You should be grateful, you know?" suddenly said Astyanax. "He travelled all the world to see you and Mom."

You won't scream, Telemachus said to himself. He took a breath.

"Yeah, he didn't really know me, so. I don't know if that counts."

"That's even better. I mean, he loved you anyway. All this time, he was thinking about you"

This logic was wrong, but Telemachus doesn't find enough strength to fight over it.

They stayed silent for a few minutes.

"He didn't want me, you know? He just didn't want me dead and I reminded him of you. He was also scared of what I would become if he just left me alone. And you are so awful but he wanted you from the beginning and he loves you and he was so proud and-" Astyanax put his arms around his knees, his voice breaking as he spoke his next words: "You're a terrible idiot, you know. But he still wants you."

Telemachus needed a few seconds to see that every now and then, Astyanax would rub his wet eyes with his little fists.

He wasn't ready for this, even after months of training he wouldn't be ready. He stays silent for a moment. Slowly, he puts his arms over the crying mess and draws him to his side.

"And you think that father carried you all over the world because he doesn't like you?"

"Because he's kind and he would be ashamed to tell uncle Polites what he did."

"As far I know he wasn't so nice all this time, right? But he never turned his back on you. If you don't trust me, trust that. Odysseus came with you to Ithaca, because he wants you."

Astyanax did not reply but rested his head on his side. Telemachus let him.

Later that night, Telemachus carried a tired Astyanax straight to his parents' bedroom and knocked. When confused Odysseus finally opened it, Telemachus threw the sleepy child at him without hesitation.

"Hug your bloody kid."

And he walked away. This was his moment to avoid uncomfortable questions.

Let me know what do you think. And yes, Telemachus and Odysseus have a proper conversation about being father and son, but later.

BTW sorry for all the errors, I'm so sleepy right now I barely see my screen