#night walk gets name rights and fever's doesn't

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'that funny feeling' - logan x gn!reader

summary: no matter how hard he tries, logan can't escape one simple fact. he's falling in love with you. (900 words) tags: fluffy, cutesy, short but sweet, feelings realisation, a lil angsty for logan thoughts, for the 'love' prompt for logan promptober.

logan finds you on his mind more than he'd like to admit. you've taken root inside his brain, infuriatingly made your home there, nestled between every thought and daydream. but he doesn't have the heart to evict you.

a heart, the dangerous thing, something logan thought he'd lost a long time ago. withered away, dying, fulfilling nothing more than its designed purpose - to keep him alive, without really having anything to live for.

until you. and he finds it's always you. you're the reason for so many things these days, he realises. how you've so sneakily, cheekily and annoyingly invaded every part of his life, slipped right under his finely tuned nose.

he doesn't mind cream in his coffee anymore, not since you introduced him, and he finds himself. . . humming? softly. tunes you listen to on your phone while in the shower or while driving. and for a moment you'd believe he's stopped surviving, and almost, just almost, started living.

yes, you're the reason for so many things these days.

logan didn't have a favourite colour before you. it wasn't something that concerned him. why would a two-hundred-year-old man need a favourite colour? it wasn't until the third time he met you, dressed all in yellow, that he realised he may have a favourite colour after all. and in yellow, every sunflower, every marigold, in the sun, he'd see you. and he'd smile.

in bed late at night, separated by distance, he thinks of you. he scolds himself for craving your touch, for growing accustomed to your presence in his life, knowing how easy it would be to lose you. . . but he can't help himself. you're too special, too important, no matter how much it frustrates him to think so.

what's happening to him? perhaps he's sick, maybe this is finally it. it's long overdue. that would explain the fevers, the sweaty palms, the aching in his chest. right? totally. he's just. . . sick.

but sickness doesn't explain his thoughts of you, the way he behaves with you versus all others. his rough, calloused hands trace tenderly across your skin. his eyes, sharp and focused, now soft and vulnerable as they commit every one of your features to memory.

sickness doesn't explain it, so what does?

it's frustrating, you're frustrating. and annoying. and persistent. and gentle. and kind. and sweet. and beautiful. and-

fuck.

this doesn't have to be more than it is, he thinks to himself. logan can keep it simple, as if he's ever had the capacity to keep anything simple in his long, long life. if he just distances himself. . .

no.

he can't. the thought fills him with fear. he couldn't.

what is it about you that has him on his knees, worshipping you, craving you? he wishes he knew, almost wishes he could forget you so he can be free from the worry that he'll have to watch you walk away one day. you'd walk away and he'd never get to tell you that-

he loves you.

what?

fuck.

no!

wait, he loves you? logan sits up in bed, heart racing. no, he can't possibly love you. he'd sworn off that disgusting feeling decades ago. it wasn't worth it, he'd said. no, you're irritating, the way you smile in the face of adversity. you're frustrating, in how you insist he takes care of himself. you're aggravating, because you're everything he's not.

so, why does he feel this way?

it's love. it always has been love. no matter how hard logan has tried and dodged and weaved to avoid that sickly sweet feeling, you're there with a bullet aimed straight at his heart - struck him, dead aim, no mercy.

he's in love.

of course he loves you, how could he not? visions of you flash in his mind and he finds himself smiling, on his bike, in the grocery store picking up that one wine you like, watching your name light up on his phone. you're. . . suddenly everything, everything he wants, everything he didn't know he needed.

it's you, it's always been you. no matter how hard he's tried to suppress it, to push it away, to kill it, strangle those feelings with his bare, tired hands, it always emerges stronger than ever.

he loves you.

god he loves you, so much so that it's overwhelming. it's pouring out of his chest, making a mess of his life, of everything he thought he knew. logan had sworn it off, everything he touches turns to shit. he's a poison, and you're. . . you're the sun.

and yet, you hold him like he's fragile, like he's not the monster he believes himself to be. you know the violence that lies beneath his calloused knuckles, but instead of running, you tenderly place a kiss to his weathered skin. you pull him closer. you welcome the monster into your life with open arms and a smile that brings the monster to his knees.

he really loves you.

logan is tired, tired of running from the feeling, of running from you. with every bone in his body, he loves you, all of you. and you him, monster and all.

yes, logan loves you. and he'll die before someone takes that feeling from him. the fire in his heart beats steady, steadfast, for you. he's alive, for the first time in a long time, he feels alive.

because of the love he feels for you.

[munsster]

red wine supernova

A/N: guys... i know this is a sapphic song but hear me out on this one.... the lyrics go too well with eddie to ignore 😖 (gif creds: @keery)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Bimbo!Reader

Summary: “Baby, why don't you come over? / Red wine supernova, falling into me” 2.9k words

Warnings: fluff, dumbass pining x2, best friends to lovers, a few kisses, broody & high eddie, cursing, pet names (teddy, bug), teenage boys, underage drinking/smoking

"Hi, teddy!"

It rings in his ears like church bells. Then Eddie sees you and you're drenched in golden sunlight even though it's afternoon and the school halls provide no source of natural light. So maybe you're just beautiful. A vision in go-go boots.

Totally not his type, though.

"Hey," Eddie sighs, exhuasted from the hour and a half English lecture he just suffered. Not to mention, he was already exhuasted from the fact that he barely slept the night before. Which was maybe, possibly, perhaps caused by his overthinking about that nice shade of lipstick you always wear.

"How was Lit?"

"Shit."

You giggle, "that rhymed!" His heart skips a beat.

You're side by side down the halls—you always walk to lunch together—and, like clockwork, you tease him about trying to hold your hand when his ringed fingers brush your wrist. Of course, he would. In a heartbeat, he'd have his fingers clasped with yours like that's what they are molded for. But people would stare, and that's more of a hassle than he’d prefer.

Don't get him wrong, he doesn't actually give a shit about people staring at him, he just doesn't want to give anyone anymore reasons to stare at you. In disgust. Or loathing. With whatever judgements they'd make. Names they'd call you. He's been through the ringer, he'd never drag you along with him.

You're chattering about the state of your new, pink jellies when Eddie catches someone throwing you an off glance. He tries not to think too much of it, and he's not like jealous or anything, but every snicker and whisper sets him off. You're bubbly and kind and it's not fair people look at you different when you're with him.

"You ever notice how people look at us?"

You tilt your head at him as you round the corner of the cafeteria doors.

"You mean like how Dustin makes funny faces when I compliment your hair?"

"No, I mean like that," he huffs, pointing right at the judgemental stares of Melissa and Nicole, who promptly turn away with a gasp. He shakes his head. "And I like when you compliment my hair."

"Well, I like your hair." You smile at him as he pulls out a chair for you. You're the first ones to the table.

"Thank you, bug." Eddie ducks into his own seat, tapping his heavy fingers against the tabletop. "Off topic. I'm saying, you never notice people look at us... funny?"

The metal clasps of your limited edition Disco Fever lunchbox clack against the side as you unfold the lid. Your face contorts, considering the scenarios you've devised in your head if anyone was ever rude to Eddie in front of you. Let's just say your self-defense knowledge would come in handy.

"I guess I notice sometimes, but I just don't care. I like you lots more than I like them," you say, shrugging it off, "And I know how to fight."

His heart swells, face rosy, ears hot as an oven. Of course, you'd say that. You always know what to say.

Too bad you're not his type.

Dustin plops down in the seat across from you, nearly gagging at the way Eddie ogles at you.

"Would you get a fuckin' room already—!"

"Language," you both holler.

"Jinx!" you chirp. "You owe me a soda."

"I'll get you a soda, bug," Eddie hums. Dustin considers stocking his backpack with those little bags they give you on airplanes just in case.

...

"Weird Science or The Woman in Red?"

You're perched on the floor of his living room, wearing silk shorts and a cami. You weigh both tapes in your manicured hands like it'll tell you anything about the quality of the films inside.

"Somethin' to say about Kelly LeBrock, bug?"

"Steve suggested them! And he gave me a discount, so I couldn't just say no," you say with such a dazzling smile on your face, he thinks you're the nicest girl he's ever met. Or, at least, the nicest he's ever seen, no contest.

Just, not his type.

"Go figure," he says, "Weird Science."

"'Cause of the mutant bikers?" You beam up at him where he sits on the couch.

"'Cause of the mutant bikers."

It makes you giggle, which makes him smile like an idiot.

Then Hellfire pours onto Eddie's front porch bearing gifts of humongous chip bags and a six pack of cheap beer. He jumps a little at the doorbell, and you spring up to open the floodgates for the rowdy group of boys. They greet you excitedly and spread themselves across the rest of the couch, an armchair, and the floor.

Dustin tosses you a bag of pop rocks, and you blow a kiss in thanks, promising to bring him by the arcade next week. Eddie feels so far from you, even though your shoulders are pressed between his knees. But he can't see you or talk to you, your attention is divided, and he can't help but feel a little needy. You smack Dustin's hand when he reaches for a beer, and he whines about Mike sneaking one.

"What movie did the love birds choose?" Gareth asks. Eddie takes out a baggie of weed.

"Weird Science!" you coo, slotting the tape into the VCR. Gareth celebrates, sloshing his beer can against the coffee table as the rest of the boys high five and howl. You roll your eyes affectionately.

You laugh, smacking Jeff on the arm. “Oh, you’re all horny perverts.”

Gareth salutes, “At your service!” Which earns him a playful flick upside the head. The opening credits roll, and you stand triumphantly.

“I have to pee, but you guys can let it roll while I’m gone!” you chirp, skipping off down the hall of the mobile home.

As soon as you’re out of ear shot, Dustin whips around to scowl at Eddie who exhales a slow puff from the neon pink bong you gifted him last year. He passes it to Gareth and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I can’t tell what’s worse,” Dustin huffs, “The fact that you’re so oblivious or the fact that she is, too.”

Eddie squints. “What?”

Dustin deadpans.

“Dude, even I can tell you two like each other,” Mike chimes in, “Will thought you were dating from two thousand miles away. Over the phone.”

“You guys are fucking high. We are not dating,” Eddie says.

Mike shrugs. “You should be.”

“Okay, twerp, I’m not taking romantic advice from someone in a long distance relationship.”

“He’s right,” Dustin barks.

“That means you, too, twerp. Besides. Not my type.” Eddie sighs and slumps into the cushions, reaching his arms above his head.

“Yeah, right,” Lucas says, “If she’s not your type, then who is?”

“I don’t know, but she’s not.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “Sounds like a lame excuse for your cowardice.” Eddie’s jaw drops, and he grabs for his bong.

“You did not just say that to me.”

“I meant it.”

You bumble back into the room, and the conversation screeches to a halt, Gareth whipping back towards the screen with Eddie’s eyes still burning holes in the back of his head.

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” they grumble.

Eddie smiles when you plop down next to him on the creaky couch. He can’t focus on the movie with the stray glances he’s catching from the younger boys and the soft looks you offer every so often. Maybe he is gutless. Because when he thinks about you, he’s floored. Then—knee jerk—he has to justify his racing heart with the fact that he could never be into you. But he is. You’re beautiful and funny and sweet to him. You are his type.

Not halfway into the film, Dustin whines, “I’m bored. Can we play a game? Like spin the bottle or kiss marry kill or something?”

“First of all,” Eddie says, “there’s only one chick here, we’re not playing spin the bottle. Second, are you five years old?”

You scoff and pat Eddie on the thigh. “Hey! I’m with Dustin. Truth or dare?”

“Works for me,” Jeff interjects. Eddie glares at him, grabbing his bong from the table. “Truth or dare, Eddie.”

He exhales a puff of smoke, shaking his head.

“Truth”—The boys’ heads turn, wicked smiles on their faces like predators eyeing him up—“Fuck, dare.”

Jeff cocks a brow.

“I don’t like this game,” Eddie says.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“I said dare.”

Jeff grins. “I dare you to tell me if you have a crush on anyone.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Mike chuckle.

“Fuck you all. Yeah, fine, I do. Next,” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s your turn, teddy,” you coo.

“Right. Dustin, truth or dare.”

“Easy. Truth,” he says.

“Is it fun being a little shit?”

You shove his side. “Eddie!”

“Why, yes. Yes, it is.”

“Great,” Eddie huffs.

“Awesome.” Dustin glares at him.

The game continues just like that, a vicious cycle of sarcasm and glares. It’s a little more lighthearted when Lucas asks you if you have a special skill. Without responding, you ask for a deck of cards and stand in front of the screen.

“You boys like magic?”

A few nod, the rest too stunned to speak as you show them a card, the queen of diamonds, and shuffle the deck a few times. You pull a card from the deck, and the boys lean in, anticipating the red queen. You spin the card, and they groan when you reveal the eight of clubs.

“That’s not our card, bug,” Eddie says. He expects you to be disappointed, but you grin and set the deck on the table.

“I know.” Their eyes widen when you reach into the top of your shorts, a card pinched between your fingers. The queen of diamonds. “This is.”

You toss the card, and the boys grab for it. Eddie gulps and shifts in his seat, couch squealing beneath him. Lucas pelts the hard-won card at Eddie, and you curtsy before heading back to your seat.

…

Just as the game gets a little tired, Dustin shoots his hand into the air. “My turn!”

“Okay, but this is the last one—”

Dustin shouts your name.

“Yes?”

“Truth or dare?”

You pretend to contemplate before chirping, “Dare!”

Eddie leans his head back, lulling to the side to watch you smile at Dustin. You catch Eddie staring and stick your tongue out at him. He winks.

“I dare you… to kiss the person on your right.”

“Geez, how long did it take you to come up with that one,” Eddie mumbles. But you look to your right, and Eddie looks kind of uninterested, glazed over and staring at the ceiling.

“That doesn’t seem very consensual,” you say, brows knitted just as Eddie lifts his head. Dustin glares expectantly at Eddie who slowly sits up and turns his head, smirking at you.

“You can kiss me, bug. So long as you promise not to bite.”

Eddie’s relieved when you giggle and set your hand on his knee.

“If you say so!” You lean closer, and he blushes at the new proximity. Despite his nerves, he just can’t look away, eyes locked with yours. You huff when it feels like he’s staring straight into your soul. But you’re smiling so sweetly, even with all the rascals chanting ‘do it!’.

You shift your weight and hold onto his shoulder as he slips his arm around your waist so you don’t teeter off the couch. He nods, tip of his nose just brushing yours. You press your lips to his quickly, and he can sense your nerves when you pull away and look down.

Everyone cheers.

You look into his eyes again, and your face relaxes, the heat not so unbearable when you see his smile. You duck to kiss him again, his arm tighter on your waist. He tries not to smile, but you hum softly and, suddenly, he’s a puddle in your fingers.

You pull away when someone whistles, your ears rushing with blood as you drop your feet to the floor and look away, face burning.

Eddie clears his throat. “Alright, you pervs got what you wanted. Can we finish this damn movie already?”

“It’s kinda late,” you hum, “I don’t wanna be driving too close to the witching hour.”

“Wait, what?” Gareth says, watching you stand and shuffle into your slippers by the door.

“Sorry, guys. Just… superstititous.” They wouldn’t have believe you if you hadn’t said it with a genuine smile on your face. Eddie hops up from his seat and follows you.

“I’ll walk you out, bug.”

“Ooh,” Dustin teases. Jeff slaps a hand over his mouth, and Dustin mumbles an expletive against it.

Your little, red coupe is sidled right up next to his van. He always keeps the spot closer to the door open for you. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket, your arms crossed over your chest to keep out the cold. He winces.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay? I can take the floor,” Eddie says, shucking his jacket and wrapping it over your shoulders. You smile.

“Such a gentleman.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, teddy,” you whisper, craning your neck to kiss his cheek. Your heart-shaped keychain jangles against the car door as you slot the silver key into the lock. When you get the door open and glance at him, he’s stone faced where he leans against the back window.

“Wait,” he huffs.

“Yeah?”

Eddie can feel himself flailing, hands shaky at his sides when you look at him. He can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or his nerves or how worried you look or the fact that this could be his only chance. Don’t be a coward. He expects you to get tired of it. Eventually, you’ll have to let go, but right now, you stand there and wait for him. Oh.

“Sorry, bug. I’m pretty high right now.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug when he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles softly. “You okay?”

He shakes his head. “You’re so sweet. And you’re so nice to me. God, you’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you coo, standing close enough to feel the warmth radiate from his chest. He nods slowly, glancing down at your lips.

“Yeah.”

You thumb over the leftover slip of paper in the pocket of his jacket. And you smile, remembering when you passed him that note in chem last thursday.

Eddie sucks in a breath, sighing, “You make me so nervous.” You blink hard, and he’s seering hot under the warm light filtering through the trailer windows. “And you’re so fascinating.”

“Fascinating?!”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“That’s a new one. ‘S that a good thing?” you say, head tilted watching him push his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing. Fascinating is good. To me.” You swear his eyes twinkle a little when he looks at you.

“Well,” you nod, “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” And he can’t stop himself from taking selfish glimpses at your mouth. He feels so stupid for how long he denied his genuine attraction to you. His crush on you. You’d laugh if you knew what went on in his head. “I liked kissing you.”

You take a deep breath, and he steels himself for rejection. He thinks, why should you want anything to do with him after he’s acted so indifferent towards you all this time.

“I liked kissing you, too, teddy.” Holy fuck.

He grins. “You’re my type.” At first, you think he’s joking, but even a blind man could tell Eddie was dead serious. “Textbook description of it, bug. You’re my type.”

You look into his eyes again, trying to gauge if he’s fucking with you. He has to know that you’ve liked him for years. He has to. It’s not like the boys have been subtle about it.

“I… am flattered,” you coo, “Where’s all this coming from?”

“Just. From me. You know? It’s always been there. Had a crush on you forever, just had to tell you now.”

You nod, biting back a grin and shuffling a little closer. He’s absolutely buzzing when you curl your fingers into his bicep.

“Can I kiss you?” His head is spinning when you nod and press up against him. He’s sure you can feel his heart pounding. Especially when you press your delicate palm right to it. His hand fits gently against your hip.

Now, it’s his turn to kiss you. His lips are so soft against yours, tender like he’s nervous you’ll shatter. You giggle and reach for the back of his neck, your mouths falling open against each other in a fit of excitement and heat. He tugs you closer when your tongue slips into his mouth; he doesn’t mean to, but he feels himself smile and spread his hand across your lower back.

Eddie pulls away, eyes flicking wildly across your face just before he pecks your mouth again.

“Bug?”

You nod, eyes refusing to open as he kisses your cheek.

“Be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, teddy, I will!”

You tug him down by the collar to kiss him ferocious, his cheeks instinctively hot with your baby pink fingernails gentle on his neck. You can hear the cheers and high-fives from inside the house, exclamations of ‘finally!’ and ‘i knew it’.

Then Dustin hollers, “Fuck yeah!”

And you both shout, “Language!” just before falling into each other in a fit of giggles.

stranger things masterlist

[fairyhaos]

❖ i am all of you // lee jihoon

woozi x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: requested by @mirxzii, established relationship, producer!woozi, scriptwriter!yn, hurt/comfort

warnings: pet names (babe, darling), food mention

summary: on the days you feel exhausted, lost to the clouds of fear and fatigue, you wonder whether anything in the world will ever be fine again. not to worry, though. because jihoon always finds you, and he brings you home.

Jihoon kind of misses you. 

Okay, that's a lie, because he actually misses you a lot, because even though you're right here and you say hello to him in the morning and you eat your meals together and you say “I love you” to him at night, you're still not… here. 

You get like this, sometimes, where you're all stuck in your head and he can't get you out. Anything he says doesn't seem to register, not really, because you'll hum in response before drifting away again to somewhere he can't reach. 

“Y/N?”

Jihoon knocks on your door, gentle. You emerged from your room to have breakfast, but you've been stuck inside ever since, and, well. It's like he said. 

He kind of misses you a lot. 

“Jihoon?”

“Are you okay in there?” he asks. “Just checking up on you, babe. I haven't heard from you in a while.”

“I'm okay,” you say back, and even though you're only on the other side of the door, you sound distant. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

He hums, sceptical. “Are you sure? Can I come in?”

“I don't see why not,” you say, and he opens the door and cautiously peers inside. 

You’re lying in bed, pillows propped up behind your head, quite literally doing nothing other than staring emptily up at the ceiling. When Jihoon enters the room, you look over in response to the sound and wave at him from the bed looking confused but also very, very exhausted, and something in his heart twists sadly.

He walks over to you, leans over, and presses a hand to your forehead. You look up in confusion, going a little cross-eyed as you try to see his hand on your head. 

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever,” Jihoon responds matter-of-factly. He takes his hand away, presses it against his own forehead before feeling yours once again. 

“Hey, hey, I'm fine,” you say, waving his hand away. “I'm not sick.”

“Then why are you in bed?” he says. “It's so sunny today, Y/N. Normally, you'd be the one pestering me to get out of bed so we can go on those walks that you love so much. What's wrong, Y/N? Can you please tell me what's wrong?”

You fall silent, looking away. 

See, he thinks he kind of knows what's wrong. 

Not the exact reason, of course, but he knows that you're getting this tired and withdrawn from him because there's something in your life that's making you overwhelmed. Whether it's a situation that's happened or something you fear will happen in the future, if it scares you enough then you'll end up retreating in this way. 

Jihoon knows it's your way of coping when things get too much, but it frustrates him, because all he wants to do is take care of you but you won't let him in. 

“Please,” he says. Gently, simply. “Can you tell me what's wrong so that I can help?”

So he asks. He asks, and waits so, so patiently, silently begging you to please let him in. 

You slowly shake your head. 

“Nothing's wrong,” you say, and then shrug, like everything's fine. “I just need to take a nap.”

“I had to wake you up at noon for breakfast, today,” Jihoon points out, frowning. “And it's four in the afternoon. Why do you need a nap?”

You just shake your head again. “I just do.”

He opens his mouth, ready to refute, but you abruptly pull the covers over yourself and bury your head into your pillow again. A clear sign you want to end the conversation. 

“Goodbye, Jihoon,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets, and Jihoon sighs. 

“I'll let you know when dinner is ready, okay?” he says, and you make a soft noise in reply. He looks over at you again, before walking out of your room and closing the door. 

───────────── ⛅

It’s only thirty minutes later that he knocks on your door again.

He can’t help it. You two aren’t exactly the clingiest couple in the world: what with Jihoon’s work and your busy life, you can’t really afford to be so codependent. There have been days where you barely speak to each other, both absorbed in projects that take up all your time and leave you unable to indulge in the typical cuddly affection that other couples take part in.

This is what happens, he supposes, when a music producer and scriptwriter decide to date. Not that he minds, because he loves you, and he knows you love him too, and neither of you mind the lack of physical touch because often, the knowledge of that love is enough.

Just because you’re not the clingiest doesn’t mean that he likes not spending time with you, though.

Especially when you’re right there.

“Y/N? I’m coming in,” he says, and opens the door before you can answer. You’re lying in exactly the same position that he’d left you in, and you look over as the door opens again with a mildly annoyed expression on your face, as if Jihoon was interrupting your very precious time of doing absolutely nothing.

The mild irritation melts into confusion as you spot the things he’s holding. “Why did you bring your laptop with you?”

“Laptop and chocolate,” Jihoon emphasises, holding up the bag of chocolate coins in his other hand as he pushes the door shut with his elbow. “I’m here to do my work. And give you chocolate. Move over, will you?”

You give him a curious look, but still obediently shuffle over in bed so that he can climb in and sit there beside you, back against the headboard, opening up his laptop and immediately clicking on his emails. He doesn’t look at you, seemingly absorbed in answering whatever is sitting in his inbox, the bag of chocolate plopped onto the covers between you two.

“Jihoon?”

Jihoon hums in response.

“What are you doing?”

He glances at you briefly, and pats your head. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to drag you into doing anything. Just pretend I’m not here, okay?” He goes back to his work, and then adds, “Oh, and eat the chocolate.”

You furrow your brow, mystified by his behaviour. This is… weird. You’ve had episodes like this before, where the foreboding lump in your throat joins forces with the anxiety that sits, ice-cold, in your chest, and you end up with a bone-deep exhaustion that leaves you terrified to do anything at all. Every time, Jihoon seems to understand, leaving you to your own devices to work through the fatigue until you feel better. He might bring you soup, or remind you to brush your teeth, but never anything like this.

The soft click-clacking of his keyboard is quite soothing, you’ll admit, but it’s still not quite enough for you to stop teetering on the edge of this crushing exhaustion and finally sleep.

“Jihoon,” you murmur, looking up at him again. “Jihoon, seriously, what are you doing?”

His fingers stop moving, and he looks over at you once more, before looking at the untouched bag of chocolate coins. Wordlessly, he opens it, unwraps one, and presses it against your lips. 

“I’m feeding you chocolate coins,” he says, and something about the deadpan way he says it makes you smile, allowing him to push the chocolate into your mouth. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I can see that,” you say around a mouthful of sticky, warm sweetness. Hm. Eating it makes the weight in your chest feel a little lighter, actually. “I just…”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow at you, but there’s no unkindness in his expression. He unwraps another chocolate for you, and you dutifully eat it, letting the overwhelming sweetness coat your teeth as you melt it down in your mouth, making the most of the taste.

“What are you doing here, though?” you ask, as your boyfriend deposits the metal wrappers on the bedside table next to him. “Babe, if you’re here to take care of me… it’s okay. I’m fine.”

He looks at you again, and smiles. “Silly. I’m not here to look after you.”

Wait, what?

“You can do whatever you need to do,” Jihoon continues, as he goes back to his laptop and starts click-clacking away again. “Rest, sleep, try to turn yourself invisible, whatever. You do you, darling. I’m just here because I want to spend time with you.”

“Jihoon,” you breathe out, touched. You are certain that there are stars in your eyes. “Jihoon, I love you.”

He chuckles, and finishes sending off the email. He jostles you around in bed for a moment, pulling you close until you’re resting against him, and though the position is uncomfortable, you don’t protest.

“I love you too,” he says, patting your head affectionately. “Now, don’t worry about what I’m doing, alright? Just let me spend time with you.”

Jihoon may pretend otherwise, but he really is soft. He gives and he gives and he gives, always, and that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving you all of him, under the pretence that he’s doing this for himself but you know him, know him like the other half of your heart, and your chest squeezes at how gentle he is with you, especially now. When you’re at your most vulnerable.

And instead of getting frustrated at your distance, at how far away you were floating from him, he brings your back down to Earth, pretending it’s all for him but you know, you know that he’s bringing you back to safety for you.

Pressed up against him, leaning into his side, you finally let yourself cry, the hot, stinging tears tracing paths down your cheeks. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and instead pulls you closer, fingers threading through your hair as you cry quietly against him until you tire yourself out fully and there are no tears left for you to cry anymore. 

It’s kind of cathartic—freeing, the way you let yourself succumb to the exhaustion, comforted by the knowledge that Jihoon is there beside you as your tears die down, and you lie there beside him, taking deep, shaky breaths, heartbeat finally slowing down.

And at last, you close your eyes and sleep.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @melodicrabbit

[evagaetinosgirl]

Jenni hc pt3 please 💗💗

jenni as your wife would be like..

author notes: jenni officially upgraded from your gf to your wife ��� enjoy it babes!

➜ jenni is a complete mess at the wedding. she couldn't follow the tradition of not seeing the bride before walking down the aisle (her defense was that your wedding wasn't even traditional in the first place since it's gay). she just had to see you, have a moment to yourselves where no one else was around so she could just spill her heart out. she did cry and almost ruined her makeup, but it got fixed right before the actual ceremony.

➜ super handsy at the wedding especially after getting drunk. she's just so happy you're her wife

➜ y'all's honeymoon is in italy for nearly two weeks. jenni tried to research places to go, but was too lazy to so y'all just ventured the city jenni decided to bring you to. learning about really gorgeous sights along the way. she forced you to wear sorta matching outfits the whole time.

➜ gets ten times clinger. she just wants to always be around you and can't deal with being away from you for more than a month before she starts getting all sad. texts you everyday y'all are apart and you have to facetime her every night or you just don't love her

➜ you're banned from calling her jenni now. it's either baby or babe or my love or anything but her name. she thinks you're mad at her everytime jenni even leaves your mouth

➜ brags about you all the time to anyone who will listen and is high-key cocky about it. she thinks you're such a catch. always saying things like "my wife got this new dress, she looks so gorgeous in it, want to see?" or "she's so perfect, no?" while holding up a photo of you on her phone

➜ jenni becomes even more protective. even media training won't stop her from defending you if someone gets out of line online or even in person

➜ gets baby fever nearly right away after the wedding. if you have little siblings or nieces/nephews, it makes it even worse. she always hinting at the fact she wants a lil mix of her & you running around

➜ still annoying as hell and quite childish. actually it got worse. makes inappropriate jokes at the worse moments, pushing you for no reason, holding things up out of your reach if you're shorter than her, and way more. jenni may be 33 but she's a big baby around you

➜ buys matching gold bracelets for the both of you. one that has her initials in it and the other has your initials in it. she never takes this bracelet off once she gets it, taping it up during games.

➜ all of her celebrations are you-centered. even when it doesn't seem like it. jenni could be just throwing up a simple heart, but just know it's 100% for you

➜ becomes so determined to be your mother's favorite daughter-in-law. she needs that sweet motherly validation.

➜ those jealousy issues of hers get worse. you know the tiktok audio that's like "yeah she's great and all, but how long is she going to be talking to my wife?" yeah that's jenni. she just can't help herself, she wants you to herself

➜ jenni tells you all the time how she's so in love with you and how perfect you are and that she can't live without you which is true. jenni is head over heels for you

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[spatialwave]

(smutty drabble lol. Definitely NSFW)

So obviously Angus doesn't have much experience being a munch but once he learns with you, oh lord get ready.

Forget about wearing skirts in front of him cuz he won't give you a moment's peace. He'll be trying to get it at the movies, the back shelves of the library, hell even when  your parents step out of the room after Sunday dinner. He has a fever and the only known cure is making you cum.

Don't get me wrong he loves fucking you or having you ride him, your tits bouncing in his face. But there's something else that really gets him going, how you gasp his name when he slides his fingers inside or the way you grab his curls when you're sitting on his face

hehehe, thank you for sending. i think we all deserve a little smutty angus tully drabble in our lives!

—

part 1… to be continued?

notes: nsfw. college au. 18+ characters.

getting ready for classes in the morning was one of—if not the—most important tasks of your day. you hadn’t cared an ounce about how other students perceived you, it had nothing to do with having perfectly curled hair or plump, red lips. it revolved around one thing, what you chose to wear and how that affected your boyfriend.

since you had started dating angus tully, going several months strong, the two of you had eagerly explored each other’s bodies. you two followed your hormonal urges and taught each other so many things—what made you whine in pleasure or what had you shaking and crying, begging for more. it was a glorious time of your life, growing used to pulling the tall boy into your dorm room and fucking between classes, his cock buried into the back of your throat or deep inside your pussy.

you spent countless hours every night learning what made angus squirm, how his hips twitched when you’d rub your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that leaked out. you hadn’t been prepared for his own enthusiasm, watching anxiously with half-lidded eyes as he kissed down your stomach until he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties aside.

he was slow and meticulous, perhaps a bit unsure, eventually finding your clit and letting his tongue circle the nub slowly—quicker, seeing how that made you react. he licked you up and down slowly, completely tasting and drinking you in, those big brown eyes of his not breaking as he learned every inch of your body.

it took him a couple times of eating you out to be confident in his abilities, successfully making you cum for the first time and watching in awe as your pussy tightened around his fingers as he lapped at your swollen clit. it was addicting, to feel your thighs squeezing around his head, your hands gripping at his curls as your voice cracked when moaning out his name. it was his favourite pastime.

today, you decided to wear a skirt. you knew the implications of your decisions as you hiked it up just an inch or two higher and smoothed down the blouse you tucked into it. you were content, smiling to yourself in the mirror as you wondered where your boyfriend would first find you.

these days were the best because you’d find yourself already so goddamn horny as you walked through campus, anticipating seeing angus. it was late thursday morning, which meant angus had didn’t have class until one o’clock. you ventured to the library, one of the few places you’d usually find him—and when you did, you didn’t bother getting his attention.

he sat at one of the desks in the centre of the library where it held the most traffic, his brows furrowed as he scoured an encyclopedia and scribbled away at a piece of paper. a final essay, no doubt. what a shame that he would soon be forgetting all of what he’d just read.

it was always like a game to you, finding angus in a sea of students and wondering how long it would take for him to spot you. you stood at one of the bookshelves that were near the seating area, right at the end as you pretended to look over the textbooks. medical textbooks, far from your own degree of interest, but your intent was to get up on your tiptoes and reach for something—your skirt riding up.

a quick glance over your shoulder, angus’ face still tilted down and fixated on the words of his text. with furrowed brows and a slight huff, you purposefully knocked one of the textbooks onto the ground. the loud noise startled many students, including your boyfriend.

you made eye contact for a brief moment, only for you to spin around quickly and pick up the book, bending over. your skin felt hot now that you knew his eyes were on you. staring at you with desire, undressing you, all while you’re turned away from him and trying to get your breathing under control.

slowly, you slip the textbook back up into its slot, taking one more shy look over your shoulder. you watched angus as he closed his books, shoving them hastily into his book bag and you took this as a sign to make way for a deserted area. your heart thumped hard in your chest as you absently smoothed down your skirt while you walked, drifting further and further into the depths of the library.

to ease the anticipation and ground yourself in the moment, you lifted a hand so your fingers grazed the spines of each book you passed by. you hadn’t seen any students in this area yet, only feeling the presence of angus turning into the aisle behind you.

“hey,” he called out, keeping his voice quiet, but you could hear the hunger in his voice. you slowed your steps, feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and within a few short moments your back was pressed against the shelf and his lips were against yours.

you moaned easily into his mouth, your lips parting almost immediately as you slid your arms around his neck and tugged on his curls with your hands, “do you like the skirt?” you mumbled messily against his lips, gasping as he pressed his thigh between your legs so you could rub against him to your heart’s desire. you needed the friction—badly.

“what do you think?” he chuckled lowly as his lips pulled away from yours, trailing down your jaw and to your neck. he nipped at the skin and sucked, leaving one or two marks near the collar of your blouse that would leave you wearing turtlenecks for the next few days, “fuck, i need you here,” he breathed, groaning as his hands fell to your hips and helped you roll and grind against his thigh.

“please,” you whimpered quietly, having to reach a hand to cover your mouth as angus kissed down your neck then dropped to his knees in front of you. the sight of this alone made you squirm, feeling the wetness build in your panties—ones you almost didn’t wear today.

angus took a quick look around before he lifted up your skirt, licking his lips as he partially tucked it up into the waistband so the fabric wouldn’t fall in his face. he preferred to be able to look up at you when he ate you out.

“these are my favourite ones,” he murmured in a praise-like tone, his fingers reaching up and tugging aside the black, lacy panties that covered your aching cunt.

his hot breath against you made your jaw go slack and a shiver send up your spine. you’d been in this position countless of times, legs spread and arms clutching to the nearest surfaces to keep you held up. thighs quivering and knees feeling like they could give out any second, with angus between them.

you looked down at him, biting hard on your bottom lip as his tongue circled your clit painstakingly slow—wanting to see you become a puddle because of him.

taking a quick look around and sensing no one else, you allowed yourself to let out the quietest whimper as you rolled your pussy along his mouth. he loved when you did that, fucking yourself on his tongue as he flattened it and tasted your juices, pushing it inside you. one hand lifting your right thigh, pulling it over his left shoulder, the other hand teasing your wet folds.

“angus,” you whimpered as he kept his slow movements, savouring you like a delicious meal as one of his fingers teased your entrance. you both knew you didn’t have the luxury of time, but he couldn’t help but tease you and wait for you to beg, “please.” you breathed, needing more from him. needing to be devoured, “please.”

satisfied, angus pushed two fingers into you, giving you the stretch and fullness that you desired. your head fell back and hit the books behind you, hands gripping tighter on the shelves as his fingers fucked you well and he sucked at your sensitive, swollen clit.

not once did he remove his eyes from you, watching as you had to try keep your voice down, breathing his name out as his fingers curled inside you and pressed against your g-spot, nearly making you scream out his name. he knew every part of you and you fucking loved him for that.

one hand flew down to his wild hair, tugging on his curls as you started to fuck yourself on his fingers, his mouth and chin wet from the way he abused your cunt that was growing tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers. he inserted a third, moaning filthily against you when you tugged harder on his hair, closing your eyes shut.

“cum for me,” he told you, pulling his mouth away for a moment so he could command you, “look at me.”

you opened your eyes obediently, looking at him as he smiled up at you. he loved when you looked so disheveled and fucked into euphoria, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and breathing heavy.

he returned his mouth to you, not easing you back into it. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking on it and lapping at the folds while three of his fingers pummelled deep into your pussy.

that was enough to make your abdomen tighten, the heat inside you snapping when he curled his fingers again and left you shaking. your hips twitched and thighs tensed up as you moaned—quite a bit louder than you should’ve. your orgasm washed over you and left your clit pulsing under the touch of his tongue, wetting his fingers and face as your rocked yourself to completion.

if there was one thing angus loved, it was seeing how hot you looked when you came all over his face.

you felt the smile on his lips as your body slowed and your hushed whimpers came to a standstill, his fingers eventually pulling out of you and removing his mouth. he made sure to slip your panties back into place and untuck your skirt so it covered you up, like nothing ever happened.

through laboured breaths, you watched as angus stood up, smirking as he wiped his mouth and chin, brown eyes watching you recover. all you could do was give him a lazy, tired smile as you leaned all of your weight back onto the shelves.

“are you going to your afternoon class?” you breathed the question out quietly, batting your lashes as you lifted a hand up to his jaw, caressing him.

“fuck no,” he chuckled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and tugging you out of the library and to his dorm.

[starryriize]

OMG I JUST READ UR EUNSEOK DELULU THOUGHTS HAVE U MADE ONE FOR SUNGCHAN YET 😭 I LOVE SUNGCHAN HE MAKES ME HAVE BABY FEVER AND I DON'T LIKE THAT LMAO FBSKDN pls make both him and reader animal lovers and no babies/marriage pls ;-;

delulu thoughts | sungchan

a/n: duly noted, nonnie! no babies or marriage in this one😌 i will say…animal lover channie is so real!! okay okay i really hope you enjoy this love

☆ the type to send you animal videos while you're in class!! adds a message like "should we get one? we should. yes." and you're just sitting staring at it 🤨😭😌 (questioning, wondering, acceptance)

☆ one day, he comes home with a puppy and you're gushing at how cute and small the puppy is! y'all name it something super common but give the dog a very different middle name🥹

☆ walks!! walks with you as he holds your hand! walks with you and your dog! he loves spending his mornings with you, regardless of his schedule (he always has time for you)

☆ teaches you to dance!! would hype you so much for literally getting one step of the dance right and saying he's proud of you 🫶🏼

☆ takes you to the zoo and you both gush over how cute the penguins are! you both also love the elephants, the seals, the birds, and well, all the animals :) he would take lots of pictures of you and buy matching lion keychains for the two of you!! (brings you back again to the zoo at night because the whole zoo is lit up like a fairground)

☆ doesn't mind spending money on you or taking more time off his schedule to be with you! his love for you knows no bounds so he'd do anything for you. 🫶🏼

☆ you're his sunflower! he thinks you're like the sunshine in his life and that you motivate him whenever you smile at him!! you see him the same way! ahh just the sweetest

☆ "i made your favorite coffee for you" and "but you have work." type of relationship!! no matter what time he has to go to work, he will wake up before you and make you a coffee or your favorite drink :( he'd add a little note saying that he loves you and hopes you have an amazing day! 🥹🫶🏼

☆ the kind of relationship that you only thought existed in the social media world and in movies! he values you and trusts you with his whole heart, so best believe, all arguments will be resolved with time and communication!!

☆ thinks that all his accomplishments are also yours! 😭 finds a way to put you into every award speech he has, even pretend awards. "i truly wouldn't be here without the love and support of the love of my life at home. darling, you're the reason that i'm on this stage right now." or something along those lines. 🫶🏼😌

☆ going back to dates, you never drive! you're his passenger princess, his precious cargo!! plus he knows you like it when he drives with one hand 🤭 lets you sleep in the car and control the music though 🧚🏼‍♀️

☆ cuddles with your pets while watching movies!! he loves having you in his arms with your pets at the edge of the couch! thinks it's cute how quickly you fall asleep when you're in his arms

[jellycrusher]

Come Hell or High Water

Years in the making, Formula 1 has finally arrived... in Las Vegas!

Charles Leclerc x fem!REDBULLdriver

Genre: One-shot, Romance, slight angst, fluff

Summary: Las Vegas Grand Prix is your ticket to getting the coveted Driver's Championship against your biggest rival, Charles Leclerc. Rivals on the track but Lovers off the track basically sums up your relationship with Charles. However, you've been clashing way too much lately with him off track that it's messing up your game. Not to mention all the other things that could go wrong... went wrong.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: You're replacing Checo as the 2nd Red Bull driver. Also, this is my first ever F1 fic. I would love to know what you guys think 💖

If he wins this race, he's gonna get a big advantage in points and he'll win the championship. ... I have to win. I have to do everything in order to win. Come hell or high water.

It's not that easy to say to yourself when you're running a 38 degree Celsius fever and slight nausea come FP1. You've already popped a paracetamol during your break and somehow, it made you feel a bit better.

The chilly and windy weather doesn't make it easier for you. Imagining driving your car at this hour of the night going around at top speeds of 250 to 300 kph while being sick makes your head burn.

You stood just outside the Red Bull Garage as you wait for Free Practice 1 to start. From your periphery, you spotted a gentleman in a Ferrari red racing suit slowly walking towards the garage. You turn your head and you see your boyfriend, Charles Leclerc. You try to click your tongue just a bit and press your fingers to your temple in annoyance.

"What is it that you want, Leclerc?"

You shot a stare causing an abrupt stop to his steps when he acknowledged your displeasure. "I just want to talk. Can you give me a few minutes? Please."

"For the last time, I said no. I have lots of things to do. I don't —"

"I am stupid. I didn't mean anything that I've said last night. just so tired. I still want to work things out between us. I still want what we have... or whatever's left of it." A slight pang in your chest hits you hard as you listen to the words Charles uttered ever so gentle and sweet. He slowly steps forward to you.

"We... ummm.. We can talk more about it after sunday. I just need to concentrate and give my all this weekend. Is that okay?" He slowly reaches out for your hand and wraps his fingers around your pinky finger.

Charles knew the mistake he made. An honest mistake just brought out by exhaustion. You were excited to make plans with him here in Vegas right after the Grand Prix. You show him a list of places that you could go visit and activities that you can do together.

He was so stressed out with the concerns regarding his car and his performance for this track that he was not really paying much attention to you despite your eagerness to make this whole date plan.

When you got too excited and carried away, he snapped to call out your name and to tell that he didn't care what you'll include in your short list of itinerary. You didn't expect the sudden loud voice. You froze in place and Charles quickly took note of this. In a panic, he tried to assure you that he's sorry and he didn't mean it.

He never raised his voice to you. Ever. This was a first. Among all the things you're worried about your relationship with Charles, him possibly falling out of love for you was one thing. You took this a sign that your instinct might be right.

You slowly turned around to head for the door of his hotel bedroom. You dragged your heavy footsteps out that door, along with a heavy heart.

"Radio check please, y/n"

Your race engineer, Hugh, checks in on you as you wait in your car still situated in the garage for confirmation. Once the go-ahead was given as you calmy watch the mechanics taking the blanket off your tires, you carefully roll out on track. Roaring crowds in the grandstand and paddock somehow energized you.

"Track action is finally upon us. What are you most looking forward to?" David Croft starts up the commentary that is being heard through the screens on the track.

"Seeing cars on track and of course, the championship battle between Leclerc and y/n" says Martin Brundle.

"Street Circuits do throw up some jeopardy. Take Singapore as an example. But this is a very different track to Singapore. Very high speeds. The 2nd fastest track on the calendar after Monza."

"The temperature also is down at 19 degrees track temp. It's really chilly and very very cold. A track temp that low is gonna be very difficult for these tires and the drivers."

"Y/n has always been very good at street circuits, hasn’t she? If she continues to show domination this weekend, this is gonna be her 1st world champion title. The first ever woman to do so in Formula 1."

The commentators continue to mention that you and Charles were everyone's favorite F1 couple. You both got everyone glued to their seats with your rivalry and also your sweet relationship outside F1. People keep track of your social media accounts and they also love your interaction during any Grand Prix.

You had 8 laps in and you continue to struggle with the car and this nauseating sensation. The tires had little grip on the track and the G force on your body during turns is making you more sick by the second which was normally never the case because you were trained for it. You were reminded by Hugh to just relax after noticing on the datas relayed back to the pit wall that you were a bit aggressive at the start. Probably because of Charles and how much you want to throw the mere piece of paper with all the lists for dates at his face, you thought.

You were slowly starting to get to the top of the standings then suddenly, you felt something hit your car very hard.

Your car was making this loud screeching sound. You look at your mirror and see sparks flying through the rear of your car. The back of your legs suddenly became slightly numb. A short panic overcame you but you keep calm.

Turns out, a loose drain cover completely destroyed the bottom of your car. Red flag is being waved around. Something lights up on your steering wheel screen stating to stop the car and to turn off the engine.

Marshalls started to tow your car off the track after a few minutes. You took a quick glance on the underside of your car and there you see the carnage. The knot in your stomach hits you like a truck. This is not good.

You know how much this is gonna cost your performance, and also affect the team. The chassis, battery and other important components are gonna be replaced. You had an inkling that you might be given a grid penalty due to the replacement but you hoped you wouldn't.

You painfully wait in your room as everyone is advised that Free Practice 2 is delayed because they're gonna fix the track issue. Your physio is helping you with the concern on the sensation on your leg. Slowly getting better but there is slight discomfort when moving your feet up and down.

Press conferences are being held here and there about the ongoing issue. You were informed by Christian that the FIA is gonna give you a 10-grid penalty on race day. You didn't argue about it because honestly, you were getting too sick to care. You just want this weekend to be done with. You were focused on racing. Unfortunate to be bumped down the grid but you were determined to do better on qualifying day.

When you were called for a press conference with a few drivers about the issue, you drag yourself to the room and the sight of Charles on the sofa sitting beside Max surprises you. You were not prepared to interact with him.

Views between the drivers were exchanged regarding the penalty. Charles was the most vocal and angry against the decision. But you knew too well that their team was the one to veto the decision to forego the penalty. This was not disclosed to the drivers but it was an obvious fact since this is an advantage for them for the championship. Politics, of course.

You wonder at his action, trying to defy the decision of his own team.

"I think the rules have to change for that. Also, teams should not be allowed to have a say in these kinds of things. For sure they are going to vote against it. Every team thinks about themselves."

You are thankful that he's sticking up for you but what if it's really Ferrari who vetoed on the vote, then he better shush it.

"I also want to say that we should've learned from past mistakes. We had a few loose covers before on other street circuits. This track should've been inspected extensively and prepared properly up to race week," Max follows up on the topic. "It's a huge safety concern. The entire car is fucked. Y/n also said she couldn't feel anything in her leg for a few seconds. The accident could've been way worse."

With Max's comments, Charles quickly turned his head towards you with this worried look on his face. Brows slightly raised, wide eyes, and slowly sat straight in his seat.

You were in a hurry to get out of the room after the press conference not just because there has to be another press conference right after yours but also, you want to avoid your boyfriend as much as possible.

Familiar footsteps came running to your direction and the next thing you know, you were spun on your heel by a gentle and warm hand on your wrist only to face your boyfriend.

"Are you okay?! How are your legs?"

He was much more in a panic now than a while ago in front of the cameras. He doesn't need to hide his concern and panic from you. He took a quick look at you from head to toe, his hands scanning every part that might be injured.

"Charles... I'm okay. My legs... it's getting better" You try your best to keep the knot in your stomach in. You were still very nauseated. The quick movements from Charles turning you around and checking to make sure you're okay is getting you nauseous and a bit out of balance. "Honestly, i'm okay, mon chéri."

He wrapped his hands in yours and quickly noticed something different. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it is but holding your hand feels slightly warm. It was not something unusual for you. Whenever you're nervous or excited or even cold from the weather, your hands are the first to be extra warm. He didn't push any further but he was still quite concerned about what he heard from Max during the conference.

He blames himself for not checking up on you as soon as they were informed the FP1 will not be resumed. His team did downplay the situation and he thought that it was just a normal race weekend where something goes wrong with the car. When he saw you through the screens in their garage, you carefully stopped the car at the side of track. It didn't look quite serious like a crash. The mere thought of a crash made his chest tighten. Never a good scenario for both of you in any way and he doesn't want that to happen to you ever.

He didn't push you any further and lets go of you to proceed back to your garage to rest and wait for the next practice later in the evening.

You look forward to lying down on your small but comfortable couch in your room, wrapped up in a fleece blanket. Your warm Red Bull hoodie to keep you company. You wish it was Charles' embrace keeping you warm but your pride could never.

...................................................

You succeeded to take pole position in your qualifying session. Following you in the positions were Charles then Max. Unfortunately, Charles is to be pushed to the front of the grid on race day since you will start on 11th due to the grid penalty for the part replacement.

Pushing through all shitty things that happened to you for the past two days, it's finally race day.

Just before all the cars and teams are to be on standby on the track, Charles paid you one last visit in your room. He noticed that you were more quiet today and didn't expect that you didn't hesitate when he came up and hugged you. He whispered good lucks in your ear, his head nestled in your neck.

"Mon amour, i don't like it when we're fighting. I'm excited to battle it out on track but I want us to fix this after. okay?" He cooed.

You were grateful for the warmth his hug is giving you. You could never stay angry at him. You conceded and gave him a peck on the cheeks. He looked at you and admired your sweet small blushed face.

The kiss was anything but ordinary. It was amazing. You felt like he was sucking all the air out in your chest. Your legs were almost out of strength. His hands wrapping you and writhing around you. If it wasn't race day, you could've had him there. All bare and almost animalistic. But you stopped. It was going take you everything to focus on this race.

Charles noticed that you were extra warm today. It seems like you were getting warmer each day since the start of this race weekend. You noticed this on Charles and quickly responded ahead of what he was about to ask or say to you.

"Yes, I have a 39 degree fever. Already took my medicines. I can do the race. It's just a common flu. I'll get over it." He was about to say more but you quickly cut him off. "Take some medicine later if you're worried. No, I don't regret kissing you and it was amazing. No, I won't back down on this fight."

"I know you won't. That's my girl." He placed a hand on your face, cupping your extremely warm cheeks. "Give me everything you've got, y/l/n."

You smirk, leaning your head against his hand. "Game on, Leclerc."

All of the teams are now on standby on the track. You slid yourself in the cockpit. You observe the mechanics who were surrounding you, making any last minute checks on the car. There were those who were patiently holding on to the tire blankets to keep the tires warm and in perfect shape. If only you could steal one. You were shivering in your seat which didn't go unnoticed by some mechanics present.

Nerves of steel and a strong heart. Lady luck, keep it going until the very end. This is it.

"Okay radio check, y/n"

"Let's get this one, Hugh. For the team!"

"Loud and clear. Bring it home, champ"

Engines were ready, tyres were warm. All the cars on the grid were revving up. Crowds going crazy. Two drivers to battle it out for the championship. The deciding match.

"It is showtime. Our saturday night fight. It's five lights away and Formula 1 goes racing on the streets of Las Vegas!"

You were nearing Turn 1 and you could feel no grip on the soft tires. Charles was about to cut on the outside but you knew if you defended and turned despite no grip, your car could slide. You turned the wheel in a calculated manner but the both of you were pushed out of the track. You need to get back and not let Max overtake you.

You and Charles successfully defended your positions from the pack. There is pandemonium in the stands and in the commentary box.

"She needs to give that position back. She pushed me wide."

Charles radioed in his race engineer.

"It looks like Y/n Y/l/n will be given a 5 second penalty for forcing another driver off the track"

You did your best to babysit the tires in this harsh condition but to no avail. Charles was gaining speed on you and was just around 0.8 secs behind. He aggressively pressured you, keeping close distance, for almost 10 laps.

The cold weather is no joke. Every time you go out of the straights, you feel less grip. You almost curse at the reminder that you weren’t able to get a lot out of practice due to the damage on the car. If maybe you did, there was something you could’ve done. Possibly the engineers could’ve gained a lot of data on graining, tire temperature, and optimum strategy.

Charles locked up at around the 12th lap, widening the gap between you but he got closer to Max. Max almost passed him on the outside but he recovered well. He quickly regained his distance from you and continues to chase you. You also locked up but recovered quickly. As a result, you noticed a flat spot, further causing damage to your tire.

"My tires are now finished!"

"Copy that, y/n. Box now, box."

Around lap 18, you've been called to the pit. As you slow down, Charles took this opportunity to go through the inside and takes the lead of the race. Your team waited for 5 seconds before they could touch the car. 5 seconds may be short but it felt like forever. You knew when you come back out, you could lose a lot of positions. Thankfully, it was a quick stop for the team at around 1.8 seconds. All in all, 7 secs up until the pit lane exit.

As you exited the pit lane, you noticed that no matter how hard you press the throttle, cars were passing you one by one. There was something wrong with the car or maybe...

"Update on y/n's position please." "Charles, she's now P15. She pitted for hards." ---

"HARDS? Are you kidding me, Hugh?! Everyone is either on softs or mediums. Charles is on softs!" "Y/n, there are still 37 laps left. There's still a way around this." "There isn't! But if there is, i'll be fucking damned and push everything i've got." "Be careful, y/n" "I know what i'm doing. Just try me."

"Looks like Red Bull gave y/n a wrong set of tyre compounds. Was it a mistake or just a wrong strategy. This may be a deciding factor on the championship but you heard y/n's radio. Sounds chilling, isn't it?"

It was now or never. No excuse to back out on this.

As if someone had flicked the light switch, the crowds watched as car number 11 fly through track. Your driving technique was masterful. You rose up through the grid, passing every driver with ease. Tight and slow corners were a breeze to navigate through. Your car looked like it was launched by a slingshot through the long straights.

The commentators were going crazy at the spectacular sight of you breezing through everyone with hard tires. This was supposed to be a disadvantage to you on this particular track but you didn't let that stop you. Being on harder tires were a pain in the ass but you knew that these could last longer. You were able to push without worrying much on degradation.

Not long after, Charles could already see you on his mirrors through the straight. Just Max and Russel between the two of you just after 10 laps. Surprised but not really. He knew what a fantastic driver you are. Relentless and fearless.

"Good job there, y/n. Maximum push!" "Thanks. Also, I almost vomited in my helmet but still okay to push through!"

Concerns were shared on the pit wall of Red Bull. Hugh turned to look at Christian Horner, your team principal, also tuning in to your radio. They knew you were sick and couldn't do much about it. You were adamant to continue with the race and not let a reserve driver to drive in your place.

In turn 8 of lap 48 as you were to overtake Russell in front of you, he understeered and not noticing that you were about to pass him. He caused a collision with your front wing with his rear tire. Debris were flying around but you were still able to continue on after checking it with Hugh. A safety car was brought out as advised by Hugh and your team took this moment to call you back to the pit to change the front wing. Everyone was thinking the same thing on pitting as to take advantage of the yellow flag.

You exited the pit lane with a new front wing and fresher softer tyres. Charles stayed out and quickly saw you chasing behind him.

"That's my girl. Give me the best you've got, mon amour" He smirks to himself.

Now noticing the new set of tyres on your car. He knew he pitted way before you. His team decided to stay out and not pit to stay in the lead.

"Are those new soft tyres on y/n? Can we still pit?" "Negative, Charles. Save your tyres until the end. Extend your stint." "Ughhh.. that's gonna be hard but copy."

Your fever is now catching up to you. You occasionally sneeze through the radio when Hugh checks in. Christian radios in to cheer you on through the last laps of the race knowing full well that you're at your limit.

5 laps until the checkered flag and you were successful to keep a 3 second distance between Leclerc. He was ready to defend his lead.

You finally got within DRS range of Charles, closing the distance between him much easier. You were about to take the pass but Charles frustratingly defended his position well. There was a wide turn and you finally took the lead. You kept your position just until after the long straight and Charles went back in front.

You stayed behind him for 3 more laps finally noticing a break on the chase. Charles now wondering why you were not as aggressive during the turns.

"Maximum push, y/n. 3 more laps until the checkered flag." "I got this Hugh. I have a plan. Let's just see how much his tyres could handle."

This was your chance. You kept pressuring him in the corners and on the straights. He was advised by his race engineer to get ready to defend. He's in deep trouble now. His tyres are now starting to give up, not sure if he could bring it up to checkered flag while being constantly pressured by you. He was starting to get intimidated by the sight of your car.

The last 3 turns and a straight until the checkered flag. You kept your position behind him up until the the last turn. Taking advantage of the slipstream when he was in view of the flag.

People were screaming and jumping. Ferrari and Red Bull fans are now standing up from their seats. The commentators were going crazy in their box.

Your vision was now dangerously hazy. Panting like crazy in the cockpit. It was crazy chilly but you were sweating like a bucket in your race suit. Your fever now definitely reaching top temperature. Just as you were reaching top speeds in your car as you take the slipstream.

"and look at that! That was an exciting last lap. Blue overtaking the Scarlet Red. Red Bull mechanics are at the pit wall. The crowd is running wild. Hold on to your seats. And that's driver number 11 and she sees the checkered flag! For the first time ever, Y/n Y/l/n is our 2023 world champion! The first and only woman to ever do so in the history of Formula One! and this is just on her 2nd year in F1. What a woman!"

"P1, mate. That's P1"

"y/n, you're world champion. A world champion!"

Hugh and Christian were shouting in your ear through the radio. Fireworks were seen blasting on the top of every hotel, painting the Las Vegas skyline in amazing colors. You couldn't keep it in and you started crying. Face hidden by your helmet, your celebratory radio with the team is now broadcasted through the screens as you pass by it.

You park your car in the parc ferme behind the number 1 sign and slowly crawled out the cockpit to throw your hands in the air. Red Bull mechanics are shouting your name. You ran to them and throw yourself in their arms. They pat your helmet like crazy and shout congratulatory remarks at you.

You removed your helmet and turn around to see Charles also celebrating with his team. You ran to him and he welcomes you with open arms. Reveling in the fact that you are now world champion, you couldn't care less about doing PDA in front of people and the cameras.

You, Max and Charles stood on the podium. Your eyes were watery as you hear your country's national anthem. Normally, it doesn't make you cry but tonight was different. It means different. You now hold a few records to your name.

Max was the first one to open the champagne bottle, and Charles followed. Both of them directing the mouth of the bottle at you to spray you. Instead of reaching for your bottle, you took Charles' hand and pulled him to the podium.

You whispered something in his ear. "I know how you'll make it up to me." He breaks his distance from you and stared at your sparkling eyes, both of you still getting sprayed with the champagne.

You pulled his collar and your lips met. A sweet kiss after all the crazy events of the weekend. Max was equally surprised, along with everyone on the stage, around the grandstands, and paddock. Everyone watching it on the screens of their television were also screaming. Cameras were flashing non-stop right and left. Both of your respective team principals and PR managers were just laughing below the podium.

"I could get used to that. Maybe i should get you angry every before race" he chuckles.

"Don't push it, Leclerc."

"Just joking." He continues to admire the radiating woman in front of him. "You were amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better rival on track and you're the best partner a man could ever have. I'm so lucky to have you."

"A sentiment not evident from you last Wednesday."

"I apologize for that. To make it up to you, I think I owe you hundreds of dates. I hope you still have that piece of paper."

"Dates and a lot more kisses."

"Roger, world champ! I love you, mon amour."

Both of you smiled at each other and shared one more kiss to fully cap off the celebration. You reached for your champagne bottle and aggressively sprayed Charles. The three of you on the podium are now having a champagne spraying battle.

You and Charles Leclerc were made for each other. You bring out the best in each other and you stood together through the worst. Everyone knew that this is just the beginning. You may be rivals but both of you makes racing much more exciting to watch.

You were now world champion but you know Charles would never fail to make the next season much more exciting.

Bring it on Leclerc. I'm always ready to give everything I have. Here on track or wherever the wind might drop us. Come hell or high water, I am yours.

[the-kr8tor]

Crossed Stitch

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), brief mention of fainting, cw injury, drinking, description of illness, reckless driving, cursing.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

Hobie lied to you.

He absolutely does not feel well. Shutting off his engine, he weakly waves to Ned, smoking outside the pub. The place is packed, loud voices and music can be heard.

Ned scrunches his nose at Hobie, "bruv, you don't look too good" He offers Hobie a cigarette, he declines it, thinking it might make him feel worse.

"Yeah, I know" Hobie wipes his sweat off his brow, he feels a fever coming. Maybe he should've listened to you.

"What's wrong with you? Flu?" Ned flings his cigarette onto the street, the light flickering out.

"Spider bite"

"What the fuck" Ned laughs, patting his shoulder. "Fucking hilarious, bruv. Go get it checked"

"I'm fine, I'll just go show my face and leave" he huffs, almost breathless.

"You sure? I'll get you some water then, c'mon" Ned leads Hobie by his sagging shoulder.

Entering the pub, everything seems to be brighter and louder than before. Hobie hears glasses clinking everywhere, loud laughter ringing in his ears. He scrunches his nose, Yuri and James spots them from their booth.

"Oof you look a little green there, Hobie" Yuri schooces to give Hobie some room to sit on.

The leather squeaks when he sits down, groaning at the bright lights. Hobie rubs his eyes using the heel of his palms.

"Did you pregame or somethin'?" James asks, nursing a pint.

"He's sick, poor Hobie," Ned chuckles, handing Hobie a glass of cold water.

"Shut up, you bloody tosser" Hobie grumbles.

"How'd it go with y/n?" Yuri questions Hobie.

He doesn't have time to answer her question when Hobie touches the cold glass, it feels weird in his hand, wincing, pulling back his hand like it burnt him. "Fuck" the glass falls in slowmotion, he catches it before it shatters into the hard floor.

The group looks at him surprised and amazed at his fast reflexes.

"Yoooo" Ned exclaims. Yuri acts unimpressed, checking her nails.

"How'd you do that?" James watches as Hobie gulps the entire drink, glass thumping against the wooden pub table.

"I've got to go" Hobie's eyes are blown out, senses overwhelmed. He still feels thirsty and hungry, very hungry.

His friends call out to him in concern, Ned tries to follow him but too many people block his path in reaching Hobie. Ned tries to get his attention by yelling Hobie's name.

Wobbling on shaky legs, Hobie bumps into someone. Lacey turns around to smile at him, fluttering her lashes.

"Hobs! You made it!" She tries to offer him a shot of vodka, the smell wafts his senses.

"Not now" he grimaces, declining. Hobie continues walking towards the exit. Clambering on his bike, he speeds off.

Hobie hears Ned and Lacey call out to him, ignoring them. Wind nips at his bare arms as he rides away.

He dodges cars on the road, some angrily honking at him. His eyes seem to open up to everything, aware of every little movement on the road. Heart thumping loudly in his chest, Hobie follows the road back to his place. If he heads to yours, you would force him to go to the ER. He's stubborn, thinking a good night's rest and some ibuprofen would knock this sickness off him.

You, he smiles at the simple thought of you. Hobie's glad he took that chance in the museum, judging from how you kissed his cheek and your goofy smile you made right after, it's safe to say that you feel the same way. He can still feel the ghost of your lips on his cheek, lingering on his skin like your perfume.

Distracted, Hobie almost collides with a van, gasping, eyes wide, he swerves away last minute, avoiding a collision. "Shit!" He screams, sparing a quick glance at the driver he almost hit.

You're right, he should drive carefully, especially now that he finally told you how he feels. Hobie feels like he should've been more blunt, deciding to be more direct tomorrow when you meet. He wants to spend more time with you, more than excited to see you again.

Hobie finally reaches his houseboat. Opening the front door, tugging his boots off, tossing it haphazardly. He takes his sweaty clothes off, leaving him in only his boxers. Exhaustion claims him before his hunger did, landing harshfully on his bed, he sleeps like a corpse.

—

Hobie wakes up weird, not like 'I woke up on the wrong side of bed' weird, but a 'I feel like I climbed Everest while asleep' weird. He groans at his blaring alarm clock, the sound seems to be amplified in his sensitive ears. Shielding his ears with a pillow doesn't help with the loud ringing sound.

Frustrated, Hobie turns to shut it off, shattering the poor alarm clock with his fist. He looks at his hand like it grew an extra finger in his sleep. The clock beeps sadly before it shuts off completely. Hobie sits up, extremely aware of his surroundings, he can see everything like his eyesight improved a hundred times more. From the dust bunnies in the corner of his room, to the lone ant skittering on his floors. The sound of dripping water from the faucet is annoyingly loud. The hum of his radiator stings his ears.

Goosebumps appear on his arms before a draft whooshes past him. Maybe he has a fever? Hobie feels at his forehead, finding it to be a normal temperature. So not a fever? He wipes at his sweaty forehead, moist clinging to him like glue.

He stands up, seeing his mattress covered in his sweat, leaving a Hobie shaped mark on his green sheets.

"I need water" he says to no one, smacking his dry lips. Hobie's starving like he hasn't eaten in days, stomach gurgling at the thought of food.

Opening the bedroom door, he accidentally breaks the doorknob right from its socket. "What the fuck?" Hobie's sure he's not that strong. The metal doorknob falls harshly on the wooden floors, the sound banging at his eardrums.

Grabbing the hole where the doorknob should be, he pulls it open, unaware of his new found strength, ripping it right off its hinges. "Fuck?!" The door sticks to his hand, unable to shake it off even with all his fingers letting it go. Shaking the flimsy wood, he has no other choice but to bang it on the side of the wall, it shatters effortlessly. He looks at the shards of wood with shock and confusion.

Hobie breathlessly looks at his hand where a piece of the door is still stuck on his palm. He tries to shake it off while heading towards his bathroom. More aware of his strength, he carefully pushes the door with his hip. Stepping inside he opens the faucet to wash off his supposed sticky hand. Hobie, forgetting about his unusually strong grip, flings the metal right off the sink, water splashes his face in a rush.

"No!" He splutters, water hitting him right on his face.

Panic settles in his chest, he grabs whatever piece of cloth he has inside the small bathroom, tossing it to the gushing water, trying to stop its flow. His ear perks up when he hears your footsteps getting closer to the door. He has no idea how he can hear your shoes hitting the floor of his boat.

"Shit" Hobie can't let you see him like this. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he looks like a mess. Water dripped from his face to his torso, hair sticking in different angles, lips dry from dehydration. Not to mention he's only wearing his boxers.

Rushing out of the bathroom, he slips on the wet floor, sliding around his boat, hip hitting his rickety table, the landline and answering machine falls harshly on the ground. He falls on his ass trying to save it from falling.

The phone's dial tone beeps loudly. His answering machine lay open on the ground, the speaker letting out bits and pieces of what sounds like Lacey's last voicemail.

"Hey, Hobs– are you…Hey, Hobs– here?... can…Hobs?" Her voice annoyingly continues in a loop, speaker unusually loud and clear for an old machine, Hobie has no time to silence it when you knock again, voice muffled, asking if he's okay. He looks like he's in an episode of looney tunes, slipping on the floor comically while his hands stick to everything he touches for support.

"I'm fine!" he yells back to you, forgetting you can't hear a thing from outside. Hobie groans in pain, wincing, hand nursing his sore ass. Breathless from sliding all over his boat. At least the piece of wood isn't stuck on his palm anymore, landing somewhere he wouldn't bother to look for. Hobie almost slips again when he reaches the door, using the wall to stop his fall.

He flexes his fingers, trying to control his strength, opening the door a little too harshly for his taste (good thing he didn't rip it off this time) your concerned face greets him. He licks his dry lips, trying to look semi presentable.

Seeing his jacket on you in the morning light makes him speechless, it hugs you comfortably, sleeves too long for your arms, yet you don't fold it so that you don't damage its leather. Hobie holds the doorknob harshly, trying to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

The world grows dim around you, bathing you in a spotlight, you're the only thing that matters to him at that moment. He can't believe it took him this long to tell you how much he—

"Hobs?"

Lacey's voicemail loops again, cutting his words before it leaves his lips.

Hobie watches your face turn from concern to anguish in a matter of seconds. Your lips quiver, turning harshly from him. He tries to grab you by the shoulder, fingertips grazing his jacket.

"Y/n! Wait!" He tries to follow but he literally can't move, feet sticking to the floor like he's trying to wade through maple syrup. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

There's a sharp pain in his chest as he watches you run away from him. "Y/n!" He tries again, futile.

—

Hobie sits on his lumpy settee, still in his boxers, eyes staring blankly at the open front door, cold seeping inside. He clutches the cursed answering machine in his hands, wanting to slam it against the wall. Alas it still works no matter how busted it looks, he's sure he can still fix it. Answering machines are damn expensive anyway, even if they are cursed.

He jumps when a mosquito buzzes inside his living room, the bug's wings flapping clearly in his vision. Hobie chokes on air.

"What the fuck is happening!" He screams into the void of his empty house boat.

His first thought is you, if anyone could help him with his affliction it would be you. But it doesn't seem like you're in a chatting mood. Hobie curses the answering machine again, he should've at least said goodbye to Lacey before leaving, if he did, she wouldn't have left that voicemail. Or better yet, he should've tried harder to run after you, hold you in his arms and explain everything. Public indecency be damned.

"Stupid fuckin' machine" Hobie places the machine on his sofa, reflecting in the what ifs.

The annoying buzzing sound from the mosquito gets closer to him, he has had enough of this bugger. jumping immediately when the bug stops right above him, intending to squish it, Hobie finds himself jumping higher than before, like an astronaut leaping in low gravity. He yelps, panicking, reaching towards the ceiling.

Instead of falling on the hard wooden floors, his hands and feet stick to the ceiling like velcro. The mosquito mockingly flies past his head and onto his hand, making Hobie look at his fingertips closely, seeing tiny spikes all over his palms and fingers.

"What the fuck?" He whispers, Hobie tries to wiggle himself free. Grunting, he figures if he relaxes, his hold would loosen. Exhaling, the stickiness loosen, fingers slowly unsticks to the ceiling. He begins to fall, landing hard on his bare back.

"Argh!" He yelps a pained yell. "My back!" Reaching behind to rub his sore muscle. Hobie stands up, stretching his torso, testing his shoulders for any pain.

Hobie limps towards the sofa, sitting back down, feeling every thread under him, overwhelming his senses. Trying to tamp down his panic, relaxing on its lumpy cushions. He broods in the weird situation for a few minutes.

"I'm a mutant," Hobie says in bewilderment after a moment of reprieve. At the last word, he remembers one person who could also help him, someone who's into comic books that has superpowered mutants in it. But first he heads to his kitchen, raiding his fridge for much needed sustenance.

He could maybe try to get used to his strength, he can't ride his motorcycle like this, afraid he might accidentally break it. So Hobie spends the entire day bouncing around his boat, exploring his new found abilities, eating everything in his fridge, trying to find out where he got the abilities and most importantly, trying to call your dorm.

Hobie hopes you pick up soon.

—

Hobie bangs at Ned's door, "Ned! It's me!"

A few minutes later, a disgruntled Ned opens the door, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. "Hobie? What the fuck! It's seven am! What are you doing in Richmond?"

"She's not talking to me" Hobie pushes past Ned to get inside his new flat.

"Welcome, come inside" he sarcastically says, "Christ" shutting the door.

Hobie takes a few seconds to look around the sparse flat, boxes are littered around the place, a disassembled shelf sits in the corner, plates and pans placed haphazardly on the kitchen counter. He turns around to face a tired Ned.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hobie points at Ned's questionable fashion.

"Don't fucking mind that" Ned tries to cover himself up with his arms crossed on his chest, "What the fuck are you doing this fucking early? And what did you do now?"

"I think there's something wrong with me, Ned"

Ned looks at Hobie's disheveled state. "Clearly there is." Hobie rolls his eyes at his friend's quip "Wait hold on, why isn't y/n talking to you?"

"I told her" knowing exactly what Hobie meant, Ned has a huge grin, proud of his friend. "And she seemed to feel the same"

Ned dramatically gasps, "I could've told you that," rolling his eyes, "good on you. Continue"

"The next day, she knocks on the door with me answering half fucking naked and sweaty–"

"Way to lay it on her, bruv" Ned teases.

"Yeah, after that we had hot steamy sex–"

Ned plugs his ears with his fingers, "Nope! Can't hear you!" Regretting his joke.

"It's not fucking like that you wanker" Hobie huffs, "she thought I hooked up with someone, and she ran"

"Have you tried calling her?"

"Of course I did, she wouldn't answer. Her RA wouldn't let me in, said she's sick or somethin'"

"Mate, look you're one of my best mates" Ned pinches the bridge of his nose. "But it's seven fucking am! I don't have the energy to put up with your lover's quarrel!"

"I fuckin' know that, it's not just that. D'you think I would wake up this bloody early? I haven't fuckin' slept"

"What else then?"

"It's best if I show you" Hobie jumps high, stumbling a bit, hands sticking to Ned's ceiling. He dangles by his hand, long legs swinging from the momentum. "Remember the spider bite?"

Ned laughs loudly before his eyes roll back to his head, falling down like a sack of potatoes, unconscious body hitting the carpeted floor.

"Shit" Hobie says while sticking to the ceiling. It's gonna be a long day, maybe he should help Ned with unpacking while he explains. But first he needs to help his unconscious friend off the floor.

—

A few days later, Hobie tries again to contact you again, leaning against his bike in your campus' parking lot, waiting to see your familiar face. He flexes his stiff hands, unusually anxious to see you again.

Hobie reeled himself in from bothering you for a few days, busying himself with handling whatever that spider gave him. He stopped calling you, maybe space is what you need, even if it hurts him to do so. He will never admit that though, not to Ned, not to anyone, even you.

He feels like an absolute stalker standing in the parking lot, eyes darting around, he hates it. But Hobie misses you terribly. He misses your voice, especially when your hand is cupped in his, squeezing his hand, telling him you're still right next to him. He feels your absence right inside his ribcage, eating away at him like spilled acid.

He finally sees you come out of the building, a soft smile appearing on his lips. You clutch a heavy bag on your shoulder, stacks of books and notebooks in your arms. Hobie notices your downturned gaze, a frown in place instead of your usual smile. You don't see him in the lot, a sea of cars blocking him from your line of sight. You walk away from the doors, mind seemingly occupied.

Hobie weaves through parked cars, eyes fixated to your retreating form. Someone catches up to you before he does, He stops abruptly, watching as someone wearing glasses taps your shoulder getting your attention. Turning around, you smile sweetly at the man in a sweater vest, lips moving to talk to him.

You still haven't noticed Hobie.

From where Hobie's standing, he can't make out what you're talking about with the guy, but you seem to be engaged in the conversation, nodding at his words. Hobie waits for you to finish talking to the man, he needs to talk to you without an audience. Hobie has no idea how to start but he'll be damned if he doesn't explain everything to you. He can't let your ten year relationship go to waste just like that.

He can't lose you because of something so stupid.

Hobie shifts from foot to foot, impatient. The conversation looks like it's about to end, the glasses guy tries to hand you something, your hands full, trying to balance your stuff in your arms. The man offers to take your books for you instead, you sheepishly thank him with a smile, exchanging your books for the package he was handing to you.

Hobie watches as your fingers grazes the unknown man's hands, passing the heavy stationary to him. The man says something, making you giggle. You point at the direction of your dorm, he nods, following you, continuing the conversation.

Hobie isn't a jealous man, the guy looks like he has good intentions, he appears to be nice. You deserve someone nice, you deserve so much more.

He starts to walk away when a familiar woman who Hobie has probably seen in your class. She jogs towards you, pink hair shiny in the sun. You greet her with a timid smile, introducing her to the other guy, you three walk by, talking comfortably with each other.

You'll be fine, Hobie thinks. But will he?

Hobie swallows the lump in his throat, walking back to his bike with a heavy weight weighing him down. His chest feels like something's crushing it, waiting for him to keel over.

—

The boat rocks softly in the waves, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Hobie tinkers with his invention, still a prototype, he screws in a canister with a screwdriver, entirely focused on the little gadget.

Goosebumps appear on his arms, hearing your familiar footfalls. He stands up immediately, Hobie needs to explain everything to you that it was just a misunderstanding, a very *stupid misunderstanding. He rushes towards the front door when he hears you running away again.

Opening the door, you're nowhere to be found. He gets out onto the 'porch' of his boat to look for you, nothing, just your perfume lingering in the air.

"Goddamnit" Hobie looks down at his feet, dejected. He sees a box wrapped in red sitting next to his front door. Bending down, he gingerly grabs it. His eyes go straight to the piece of paper taped on top of the packaging.

It's his favour card, Hobie frowns at it, flipping the card over, he reads your familiar handwriting, a single word scribbled on it: Please.

A/N: Me: i hate miscommunication tropes, also me: hehehehehe.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️ reblogging encourages me to write more ❤️

[harrysmimi]

Kids In The Kitchen

Synopsis: One where Harry walks in on his girls jamming to Taylor Swift songs whilst making cookies. Later he has a nice chat with his daughter with loads of snuggles.

More of my work

Harry never knew how big of a Swiftie his wife was up until their wedding preparations started.

She didn't had to convince him much to make a playlist of just her songs to be played at their reception. Well, to feed into her obsession he invited Taylor to their wedding and YN had lost it that day. Their wedding night was also the night they both found out they're gonna have a baby.

Yeah, he dated Ms. Swift but his missus could careless. She's in fact jealous of him, her words.

It was inevitable that their children are going to be big Swifties as well. Even her cats seem to be smitten, who are named August and Archer.

Moon, their daughter has been listening to Taylor's music since she was still in womb. Harry knew it was going to happen.

He'd just returned home from gym to find The Man playing on a blast. Little Moon was jumping and dancing with her mother, which is nice. She's fallen sick last night, high fever and cold had made her all drowsy and sleepy. She wasn't herself all day. Both of the girls were dressed in their sweats and matching Lover hoodies.

Harry still doesn't know where YN found that tiny hoodie.

"If I was a man, the I'd me the man!" Moon sang the last lines. Surprisingly hitting right notes.

Why wouldn't she, her mum is a music teacher and her dad is a singer. Music runs in her blood. But for a two year old (soon Three!), her vocabulary is very developed, so is her pronounciation.

"Mummy!" She gasped when Love Story came on jumping and clapping her tiny hands together. "We were both when I first saw you..." And he sang along.

"Jesus, you know all the words?" Harry was surprised.

"Papa!" She ran towards him and hugged his legs excited. "Mummy and I making biscuits!"

"That sounds so delicious!" Harry gasped in amusement as he picked up his princess and walked back in kitchen, he greeted his wife a kiss.

"'cause you were Romeo an' I was scarlet let'er and my daddy sai' stay away f'om Juliet..." Moon sang looking at her Mummy who joined her and they sang the entire song together she clung onto her dad.

"Yeah, daddy is going to ask them to stay away from Juliet. You're too young for a Romeo." Harry squinted his eyes.

"Silly Papa!" Moon chuckled as she cuddled his side.

"You feeling any better now princess." He placed a kiss on her cheek and checked for her temprature with the back of his hand. She was still a little warm.

"Lil." She shared.

"Alright, Papa needs to shower." He placed her back on her feet carefully, but she was quick to climb back on her little step stool to help her mum. And eat the rest of chocolate chips.

Harry glanced at YN once before, she looked very tired. Fair enough, she's had a long week at work and Moon kept both of them last night. Whilst he got to get in some sleep she couldn't because Moon wanted her last night. He was going to force her to take a nap right after he's showered.

"Mummy I do it?" She looked up at her mum wanting to pour in the melted butter.

......................................................................

The chocolate chip biscuits were being put into oven Harry came back out. Moon stood afar. She's a very obedient baby, she knows the real oven is dangerous for her to use just yet. She can still play with the pretend kitchen her dad bought for her as she was throwing a tantrum at the toy store.

She absolutely loves it!

Harry's sure she's going to be a Chef when she grows up as she's always after him or her mum during meal prep. It is always a nice sensory play for her, playing with the food of different textures, eat some too, and wear most of it.

But yesterday she wanted to be a Superhero and help people out when she's grown up. So who knows!

Now even Moon looks tired and drowsy with her medications making her all sleepy. She could use a nap too.

"Baby, do you want to go take a nap?" He asked hi wife, "you look very tired."

"Oh yeah!" YN agreed. Harry was proud of her for saying that.

It has taken her a long time to adjust and take time for herself. Coming from a very conservative family (Moon being born just six months after their wedding stirred up some family drama from her side) and growing up with her mum around most of time, all she knew was it was her sols job to be there for Moon.

Harry had done everything possible to tell her he's there by her side, and she doesn't have to feel guilty about asking for help. So seeing her agree for taking a nap in a heartbeat, melted his heart.

"Moo-moo do you want to take a nap as well?" He asked.

"Ummm..." She put a thought to it, her chubby pointer finger on her chin, "No!" She announced, "I wan'o watch Miss Amewicana Papa?" She made a puppy face at him.

She knows she's not allowed screen time more than a few minutes, she's also learnt that her puppy face works on her father. He of course agreed.

"Okay, let's go lay on the sofa, yeah?" He suggested, "Mummy can rest in her room and we can have a lot of fun!"

"Yay!" She squealed. "Mummy, go sleep!"

"Okay, your highness." YN chuckled, "you sure you can be alone?"

"Of course." He assured her.

"Okay, please take out the biscuits when the alarm goes off on my phone. I'm going to leave it out." She shared.

"I will baby," he nodded. She walked over to him and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

Harry and Moon got all cosy on the sofa. Her dad spooning her as she was buried under her Blankie.

Yeah, she's got a Blankie now!

They were halfway through the he documentary, he remembered to take out the cookies. Harry never in his wildest dreams ever saw watching a Music documentary of his long time Ex with his daughter. But here he was. Moon looked up at him, "Papa is that real?"

"What is real princess?" He was confused, watched her point her finger to the TV.

"That." She said, "Is she real?"

He chuckled, "of course baby." He answered.

"Mummy and I love her swongs!" She smiled, "she's very cute too. I have hair like her!"

She talked half sleepy, realising she's got blonde hair too which were slowly starting to get darker. She takes up a lot after Harry in that aspect, she's bis copy print, except few of her attributes and habits like her mummy.

Moon is perfect mixture of both of parents!

"You do, don't you?" He hummed, "you know when Papa was your age, he had same hair at yours."

"You were small?" She looked surprised.

"Yes!" He nodded, "everyone is small and they grow up. You're going to grow up too."

"I want to be like Papa when I grow up then!" She grinned, showing off her tiny teeth, "I want to be this tall." She raised her hand as far as she could to show how tall she wants to be, "just like Papa!"

"Yeah?" He was amused and smitten by the little girl, "you can be whoever you want to be. Papa will love you no matter what!"

"I love you!" She reciprocated and got back to watching her favourite documentary.

"You know Papa does that too?" He asked. She's yet to be at any of his shows.

Harry wants to keep her out of media and lime light. She can always get a private concert from her dad, he could play all her favourite Cocomelon and Taylor Swift songs at home.

It wasn't expected, but Harry has grown too protective of his little baby. When she's old enough, she can decide for herself. He'd take her everywhere she asks him to. Because no matter how hard they try to keep her away from cameras, there are those slight chances of all their efforts failing.

People hate on his wife enough already. He doesn't want that for his daughter who really did not chose to be born to a famous parent.

"Yeah! Mummy said you go an' play your music for your fwends." She nodded, "you have a lot of fwends?"

"Yeah, a lot of friends." He agreed.

"Does Taylor do that too?" Her questions kept coming.

"Mhmm!"

"Can we go?" She gasped.

"You want to go see Taylor Swift concert?" He was surprised what for he didn't know.

"Mhmm, is it somewhere we can go?" She asked, because the other day she wanted to go where Dragons from Dragon Tales live. She was left disappointed as it is not a real place.

"Yeah it is somewhere we can go, darling." He assured her, "you want to go?"

"Mhmm!"

"Papa will see what he can do then," he wasn't going to let his little princess down.

The Princess gets what princess wants!

"Can Mummy go too?"

"You know she will go with us baby." He shared. No way YN is going to be skipping a Taylor Swift concert!

"When can we go?"

"Umm... I'll let you know a month before, so you and mummy can plan your little outfits, yeah?" He suggested.

"You can dress up?"

"Of course you can." He chuckled at her amusement, "you can do whatever you want to."

Moon's questions kept coming as they talked. She got distracted many times during her favourite songs playing in the background.

She talks a lot. She's also very curious about every little thing he sees. The talking alot, she gets from her dad. Harry sometimes doesn't know how to answer her questions the way her two year old brain would understand. And he honestly doesn't know how his wife and people around him bare with him as well.

He never knew a lot of talking can be frustrating sometimes. But he isn't complaining, he loves hearing Moon talk. Her little babbles sometimes make no sense but she's adorable so she can have a pass on it.

She finally fell asleep after and hour of talking and singing along to the documentory. So did Harry.

With a thought of how he's going to take his little baby to see her favourite person perform live. He's going to have to put a lot of effort into getting the VIP tickets. Which he's willing to do.

......................................................................

N O T E :

This is in honour of The Eras Tour starting. Ik I'm late. But it's a good time for us Swifties. *Cries ferociously in India*

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[yuri-is-online]

10. Getting a visit from him while you're sick and thinking it was a dream.

I AM SO SORRY I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED YOUR ASK BY POSTING IT TOO EARLY (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

I really really hope you like this friend, I am very grateful for your support <3

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, typical best friend pining for Deuce, references to fainting from exhaustion for Jack. Check out the other requests on my masterlist here.

Silver

"Golden hour" is a funny term when you are forced to think about it under the influence of Twisted Wonderland Benadryl. Which is to say that you feel very grateful to be hallucinating an image of Silver and not the hat man. Rook would be much too willing to entertain this line of thought.

"I just think that it's kind of funny," you try to justify to not-Silver who has kindly allowed you to rest your head in his lap "that your name is Silver and you sort of look like that y'know." He blinks, an intense look of concentration knitted over his lovely face.

"Not really." He says, genuinely remorseful. "I'm just not that imaginative I'm sorry." He idly strokes your hair, the ghost of a smile growing the longer he looks at you. It flutters into your heart and briefly halts your train of thought; you don't know if you should be happy it's the weekend so this can't interrupt your classes or mad you can't enjoy your day off. But then, what about this dream? Silver doesn't really go out of his way to hang out with you, if you had not been running a fever...

You had been reaching for him, pausing only when you realize in a desperate effort to stay in the illusion. What had you been talking about? You wonder ignoring the way Silver leans to follow your hands. Oh right, golden hour.

"It's super pink and purple," you mumble "and it's just- it's supposed to be the prettiest thing in the whole wide world and there it is trapped in your eyes." Sliver takes a deep breath, almost like he is trying to restrain something, before slowly, gently, caressing your eyelids in an effort to convince them to close.

"I think you need to go back to sleep prefect." You want to tell him that's a silly suggestion because you are already asleep, but something about finally closing your eyes makes you just that much more comfortable. As you drift into the darkness, you feel someone pick you up, cradling you bridal style as they begin to walk up the Ramshackle Dorm staircase.

"The prettiest thing in the world, huh. I wonder what that says about you, when you are what's reflected in them?"

Deuce

Today was not a good day for the only plot relevant members of freshmen class A. Both of your friends had forgotten to charge their phones last night, and while Ace had been smart enough to slip his into his pocket, Deuce had left his charger back in their dorm room. That hadn't really been anything other than an inconvenience at first, but then the rain had started.

"I'll be fine, you two should worry about yourselves, I know Varags isn't canceling your club practices for this."

You really should not have said that. Maybe you haven't been feeling well for a while now or maybe the rain + no central heating + no parental figure had been what put you down. It didn't really matter what caused it, you feel like death and none of your text messages are making it through to either of your friends. At least Grim was kind enough to bring you a bunch of blankets and pillows from your room, there was no way you were giving him free reign in Sam's with your wallet no matter how badly you needed medicine. The only thing left to do is try and sleep it off and that's what you do, tossing your phone onto a chair Grim had propped up next to the couch.

~~~

Deuce had been sitting in the library before Trey kindly told him that you were out sick. He had not bothered asking where Ace had gone off too, assuming that by the time he made it to Ramshackle he would already be there and laughing at him. But that was not the case and now that he is sitting here wondering if he should try to wake you up or just let you sleep he can't decide if he is angry at Ace or happy to be alone with you. He does know he feels disappointed for even needing to ask.

"Yuu?" He decides to try and whisper, that way if you're deep asleep you won't react. You are curled up on the couch so tightly you might as well be a cat, the way you nuzzle into his palm when he tries to take your temperature does not help. You open your eyes but don't say anything at first, you just... smile? Smile and reach to hold his hand with a contended mrrp. Every muscle in Deuce's body is painfully tense, he desperately wishes he knew what he was supposed to do in this situation.

He knows what he wants to do, but that has to be the one thing he is not supposed to, right? You are his best friend, there is nothing more than that. It's with friendly intent you reach to hug him, it's with friendly concern he pulls you into his embrace and holds you tightly so you don't crash onto the floor.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He whispers and you shake your head into his chest before looking up into his eyes with pure friendly adoration.

"I wish you were here," your eyes close, sending you back into sleep and Deuce into a spiral "I want to wake up in your arms just once."

"Me too..." he relaxes, gently moving you back to your couch before you can do more harm. "I- I hope you can remember I want that too."

Jack

Jack adjusts the position of your arms around his neck and makes sure he has a firm grip on your thighs.  He has given piggy backs before but never to an unconscious person.

"You need to be more realistic about your limits."  The words taste like sandpaper on his tongue, for someone so invested in the opinions of his seniors Jack sure had been determined to ignore them when it came to how hard he pushed you.  He couldn't, well he could have helped it.  He could have done some research about how to safely start working out, or asked you if you were even interested in training with him.  But no, he did neither of those things, instead he just told you that your stamina was pitiful and that you were going to start training with him immediately.  Knowing him he probably threatened to leave you alone if you couldn't keep up, some friend he was.  "Sorry," he expected the word to feel heavier, maybe sting a little, but his pride doesn't feel any worse than it had when you fainted "I don't like seein you hurt."  Maybe it's because you're asleep and he doesn't actually have to worry about coming off too soft, or maybe it's because you stir in that sleep to bury your face further into his hair signaling that you still feel safe with him on some subconscious level, but he feels like he can just... talk.  Like even though you aren’t awake your heart will listen.

"I know I talk a lot about how if you're weak you'll get left behind, or that I don't need friends but that's just second nature y'know?  It's not like I don't want to be around you, and I definitely don't want you to get sick."  Again you move, but your steady breathing confirms you are still asleep as Jack nears Ramshackle with his precious cargo.  “When you wake up I’ll say sorry the right way, and make sure to get you some water… ha I wonder why you even came out today in the first place?  I’ve been a pretty shitty friend-”  

You take a deep, deep breath at the back of Jack’s neck, exhaling as your arms tighten around his neck in a way that could choke him if you had been angry but now feels more like a hug.  Hot air tickles him from his neck all the way down his spine as his stupidly keen ears pick up on a sleepy murmur he knows has to come from somewhere deep in your dream-addled mind.  Don’t be stupid, I wanted to spend time with you.  Why?  You know why!  And even if you don’t-

“It’s a secret~”  You actually say out loud, speeding up Jack’s heart rate and his steps.

If he doesn’t put you to bed soon he’s going to be the one who’s dehydrated. 

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 9 (2) Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

"Adele, just a heads up that I need to participate in the hunting competition next week." He surprised me with the news when I least expected it.

“Hunting? Sounds like fun! What's that for?”

Deon's reaction to my question wasn't a happy one; he seemed really stressed and overwhelmed by the news.

"The emperor hold a hunting competition to inform the world that the empire is not afraid to hold a contest in the middle of war." He spoke in the monotone way, looks like someone drop him to the grave and sucks his positivity.

"Oh, that sounds complicated. Are you okay with that?" I genuinely worried about him, ever since he brought this topic, he don't look too good for me.

He pressed his finger against his temple, looking quite pitiful with stress written all over his face. All I can do is offer him some comfort with a gentle stroke.

"It was tiring. The Emperor sent me a gift of clothes that I couldn't refuse to wearing!" He finally yelled, that’s likely the root of his stress.

"Is that too revealing for you?"

He shook his head and covered his face with his hand. "No, just the color..."

"Bad? "

"Too striking..."

Is that bold color on Deon really working for him? If it’s not a great match, maybe he should reconsider wearing it.

"Let me see, you give it a try later. If it's suitable for you, it might be the best for you!"

"Adele, don't you too... Remember already nagging at me too..."

"Who’s Remember?"

"My butler. The old man I talked to this morning, that's his name."

Remember is the head butler's name earlier?

Fix, I'm in a story made by earthlings. The English word doesn't really seem to fit as a character's name.

This definitely confirms that Deon is the main character of this world. No female character appeared at him makes this original story the mc is the male, not the female one.

"Adele, you tend to drift off into daydreams quite a bit, don’t you??"

"Oh, not quite! By the way, I’m feeling so famished, a nap makes me miss the food."

"As I thought, so I asked for lunch to be prepared."

And I was faced with luxurious food typical of nobles. A bowl of corn soup, some chicken in gravy, a dessert, and a piece of bread. It's just the right amount for one person.

"It's already cold, should i ask servant to reheat it?"

"You don't have to worry about that. I can still enjoy it even if it's not warm anymore." I quickly reject his idea, this is looks fine for me.

When I see the cutlery on the table, it really makes me wonder. I have no idea about the proper table etiquette, and it all seems so complicated. I glanced at Deon, giving him a look that said I was completely lost.

He who understood about my trouble after seeing me glanced at the cutlery said, "Just eat your way. I won't judge you."

So I used a spoon that was the right size for my needs and ate with gusto. Deon just looked at me eating hungrily.

"Have you eaten?" I asked Deon, with a mouth stuffed with food.

'If he hasn't eaten yet, perhaps I could share a little with him.'

"I’ve already had my meal, you were the one who overslept!."

'Has he now started to mock me, even though he always appears so weary himself in the devil world?'

"It can't be helped, I'm tired. Having no sleep at all really do the wonders."

"But you sleep too much, can you sleep tonight?"

I pressed my finger to my lips, contemplating whether I would get any sleep tonight or not, "No... I guess."

I can already imagine what I should do at night, maybe take a walk in the garden. because I won't have a fever like humans. The little perks in many disadvantage to became a devil.

"Want to go for a walk?" asked Deon, interrupting my thoughts.

“You want to go for a walk? I think you're tired already.” My voice soared with happiness. if Deon wants to join me, why not?

"If you can't sleep, it will affect my sleep cause I'm light sleeper."

"Okay. Let's go for a walk." I'm really excited to have my tour guide in this new world! I'm eager to learn about the human world during the kingdom era—what were the people like back then?

This could very well be my final moment of tranquility. I need to savor it to the fullest. Nothing can hold me back from my adventures.

"Done, madam. Please see the results, madam." The servants mentioned that they had finished making me look absolutely perfect.

I felt a mix of excitement and reluctance as I approached the mirror.

Ever since I became a servant of the devil, I hadn’t really looked at my reflection. My gray skin made me shy away from seeing myself, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise..

But I'm human now. Let's look at our human version.

I couldn't help but admire myself the moment I caught a glimpse in the mirror. I turned out to be a very beautiful human being...

My hair was still a purplish silver color but I finally saw the face of a human whose beauty I could appreciate as a human being.

I was eager to snap a quick photo before switching back to my devil mode. However, there’s no camera available here, so I buried my futile hopes

Finally, the waiter's choice of dress was a pastel purplish pink dress. But I also realized that this dress suits me. Makes me look pretty and slay.

"Thanks for dressing me."

"No need to thank Madam, this is our duty."

I then turned to look back, noticing the way the skirt of the dress danced around me. The swaying of my skirt only added charm to my natural beauty and make me more confident than before.

"Madam, Master has been waiting outside."

“He's outside? I'll be right out.”

I quickly put on the small earrings that the maid had provided. I chose round pearl earrings. Feeling that my appearance was perfect, I hurried to go out. Want to quickly show off my new appearance.

"Deon!"

I shouted as I walked quickly towards Deon. He, who was initially arranging his gloves, turned to me.

Wow, he looks amazing, even though he's all covered up and the only thing you can see are his striking red eyes. But the his mysteriousness and coolness really being topped up.

He fell silent while opening his eyes wide. Not even saying a word for me.

Was he surprised because I was strange, even though I was already become human?

“How's my look? Is it strange for you?”

He simply averted his gaze, avoiding a proper look at me.

I moved towards him with such intensity that he couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes fully. I did my utmost to present myself as beautifully as possible.

"You are... good." He says that with shy and tried to hide his face even if he already use the a cloth mask.

But I still don't understand the implied compliment that he can't expressed.

"What type of compliment is that, Deon? Tell me whether am I beautiful or ugly in your eyes...?"

I'm so eager to see him compliment me, you know? Women looks the best when her lover praise her!

But he didn't meet my expectation, "Let's go! "

He ran away from me before he could give me a compliment, and I have no idea where we're headed.

"Wait for me, Deon!" I try to catch his super fast walking, but it's not so easy with this dress.

"DEON!"

To Be Continued

[adobealmanac]

Appalachian Traditions from my Father

My dad and his relatives came from the Netherlands, however, when they arrived in America they settled in the Appalachia's. Many of my relatives on his side still remain in those mountains, and thus, continue practicing the rich traditions of one of the oldest mountain ranges. Here I will document some of those old-fashioned remedies and superstitions:

Remedies:

To cure a fever take a bulb's worth of garlic, and a few layers of the largest onion you have on hand and wrap them in a cloth as if you were rolling up dough to cut fresh linguini. Sinch each end with a piece of twine. Take a hammer and with all your rage beat the cloth into a pulp. Once the contents are sufficiently mashed tie the cloth around the wrists, right over the pulse. Leave the poor man's poultice in place until the fever reduces. It should take effect in around an hour.

Headache bandages were one of my great-grandmother's go to remedies to enjoy during a nice warm winter night after a long day of hard work. It would take away any symptoms of a sore head swiftly. First, grab one or two paper bags and cut them widthwise into long, thick strands of brown paper. They should be long enough to stretch across the front of your forehead and onto the sides of your temples. heat up some apple cider vinegar so that it is warm but not hot. Drench the strips of paper in the vinegar like you are making paper mache. Then, apply the strips onto your forehead so that it is thoroughly covered and pat them down with a washcloth. Cover the strips with a headband or bandanna so that they do not drip onto your hair or face, and leave in place until the soreness is gone.

Throat salve is a cozy drink we used to make to sooth a soar throat. First, combine the juice of one lemon with a cup of water. Boil the lemon water on the stove. Once it is boiling add a tablespoon or two of honey depending on your own preferences. I typically add two as it cuts the sourness of the lemon, plus the honey is good for you. Boil the mixture until it is all combined and serve hot in a mug. You may garnish it with a lemon slice to make it feel fancy.

Sunburn Soother is a simple thing to make. Begin by picking some fresh sage, and lavender if it is in bloom from your garden. Get about two cups of water boiling, and add the herbs. Boil it until a strong tincture is made. Make a similar tincture out of black tea too. I usually leave both boiling until there is just a bit of liquid left in each. Get about a cup of fresh aloe (or bottled, either works so long as it doesn't contain alcohol) and combine it with your tinctures. Once thoroughly mixed apply to the sunburn liberally as needed.

Vicks Vaporub is a cure all as my granny says. Got a cough? slather it on your feet and cover them with socks before going to bed. Anoint yourself with Vicks while doing the sign of the cross to cast out and protect from evil. Congested? Rub it under your nose and on your chest. Going near a decaying animal carcass? shove some in the openings of your nostrils to prevent that god awful scent. Need to fake cry at your enemies funeral? Dab some of that good ol' Vicks Vaporub underneath your eyes. It can even be used to oil a squeaky door. If you don't have a jar that is older than you and somehow still full, go buy one on amazon! Vicks is the gift that keeps on giving.

Superstitions:

Minding your own business is a powerful thing in the dusk draped skies of the Appalachian forests. Whether you hear your name called out on your evening walk, or seeing your neighbor walk to his barn late at night, keep your head down. It don't involve you now, does it? Whether you believe it's a cryptid out there ready to strike, or the moonshiners up to their hobbies, leave them be. Live and let live is the word of the wind, and thus is the virtue of Appalachian life.

Is your ear itching? That means someone has spoken your name. Pay attention to which ear is tingling. If it is your right, they are speaking truthfully about you. They may even put in a good word. However, if it is your left, they are spreading gossip and speaking ill of you. If this is the case, carry a sprig of rosemary on you until five days have passed since the last tingle of your left ear. This will protect you from any ill will sent your way.

The pillows of the dead often contain a wreath of feathers known as an angels crown. Often, it is believed that they signify your loved one being allowed into heaven. However, if you find one in the pillow of a living soul it may signify that their time is near. That is why it is so important to fluff your pillows each night, as you want to break up any budding wreaths before they lay claim to your life.

Drinking alone is never acceptable. Whether it is tea or scotch, be sure to pour a little out on the ground to quench the spirits. I always keep a small clay figurine by the kettle to give a drop of tea to in the morning. Drinking without offering some to the nearby spirits could upset them.

Iron nails can be strong protective amulets. Whether you nail them into the corners of your bedroom or fashion a cross out of them, they provide strong protection against malevolent spirits and evil forces. Superstitions around iron from Appalachia are quite similar to those spoken about in my post the magic of scissors.

Witches marks are said to protect your home from malicious spells and witchcraft. They can be easily fashioned out of sticks by making a five-pointed star with sticks and strings. Place this above the entrance of the home to ward off evil.

While many of these superstitions and remedies are shared around the world, my dads family from the Appalachians continue to practice these folk practices, and thus they remain a strong part of the culture in such an isolated and harsh environment. Many folks from the Appalachian mountains continue to practice folk healing and magic due to the isolated nature of many parts. They take care of their own, you know? The mountains provide a unique environment where the woods truly have some unique powers. While I myself do not reside in those hills, my ancestors on his side did and I continue to practice their ways to connect to them and their homeland. I fondly remember my trips to visit family in the region and the unique culture that fosters there.

[gravehags]

fever for the fire

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: semi-public sex, soft dom Cumulus, finger fucking, reader staring at Cumulus' divine cleavage, Cumulus being a little bit of a stalker, pet names

Words: 1,720

Summary: This party fucking sucks. But what's waiting for you outside, certainly doesn't.

a/n: HORNY GHOULETTE HOURS ARE NOW here's the Cumulus smut I promised y'all and there's not a lot of story build up I just want to do filthy, filthy lesbian things to her. That's it that's the fic. Also era 4 ghoul outfits fucking rule.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

All at once, the party became too goddamn loud.

Someone brought an amp and Dewdrop’s guitar out and all of a sudden, they were being treated to the most horrific hell sounds from the aforementioned instrument while the offending ghoul laughed and laughed. Siblings were getting more and more animated as more and more liquor became consumed and those who hadn’t found someone to make out with were playing drinking games on the ornate mahogany table. You could feel the headache creep up your spine and start to settle at the base of your skull, so you set your punch down (what was even in this stuff?) and stepped out. After you shut the door behind you, the party became wonderfully muffled as you wandered down the cloister towards the courtyard. Finally, you had traveled enough that the chirp of crickets was the only sound filling the air, the hot day finally surrendering to a pleasantly warm summer night. You walked out a few yards onto the grass after slipping off your party shoes and luxuriated in the cool blades beneath your feet and the bliss of finally being alone.

Or so you thought.

“Hey,” the voice comes from behind you suddenly and you spin in place, cussing loudly. Reclining on a lawn chair lounge was a ghoulette with crooked smile on her lips. Her head was cocked slightly to the side, causing the riot of blonde curls that erupted from it to bounce. You could see her fangs peeking out as her smile widened.

“Fucking hell you scared the shit out of me,” you sighed, hands fidgeting in front of you as the ghoulette continued to stare. “You’re…you’re Cumulus, right?” It was an educated guess. Or rather a guess based on her beautiful curvy figure which you had observed from time to time in the library. You knew her name, but that was all.

The ghoulette makes a noise of affirmation in her throat, somewhere halfway between a giggle and a purr. It makes your stomach clench and you flex the muscles in your hands before putting them behind your back.

“Nice night,” Cumulus says in her warm voice, turning her gaze skyward. You nod and when you actually take in her figure, your throat goes dry. She’s wearing the standard ghoul uniform, but had done away with the restricting tie and had unbuttoned the black dress shirt enough to give a glorious view of her ample cleavage, framed between black suspenders. You avert your gaze a moment too late and you can see her fangs again as you flush horribly.

“Take a seat, sugar.” She pats the cushion next to her left knee and you hesitate only a moment before complying. “Party too much for you?”

You roll your shoulders and groan, very aware of how close the two of you are now.

“It’s not my scene, I got bullied into coming and then got ditched. Typical shit.”

She tuts and begins to wind one of her ringlets around a clawed finger. You try not to watch out of the corner of your eye.

“Poor thing,” she coos. “And now you’ve found me. You’re one of the librarians, right?”

You’ve never seen Cumulus before, well not without a mask that is, and you frown slightly.

“Uh yeah. How did you know that? Have we met?”

Sharp white teeth flash in the darkness and she takes her bottom lip between them while looking at you from underneath long lashes. Your cunt clenches and you’re back to balling your fists, trying desperately to smother whatever the fuck this is.

“No, we haven’t met. Not formally anyway, but I’ve seen you puttering around with the books. Pretty little thing.” Your eyes go wide and there’s that feeling again in your stomach as your eyes dart to meet hers. When she reaches out to brush the tips of her fingers against the fist at your side you nearly choke, chest heaving. Her fingers inch forward to toy with the black and red fabric of your slinky dress and you let out an exhale you know sounds so pathetically desperate but fuck she was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and that was with the mask. The fuck were you supposed to do now after seeing her face?

“Do you want me, little librarian?” she asks suddenly. She’s not looking at you, but instead at the material in between her fingers. “Because I’ve wanted you. I watch, you know. I’ve seen the way you smile. The way your hair falls over your shoulders. The way you’ve gone so long, so painfully ignored by others. Tell me, would you let me have you all to myself?” Her eyes shoot upwards to meet yours again and your jaw hangs open inelegantly, mouth dry and body wanting.

“Yes.” Your voice is raw and cracked, you know you sound like these are the first words you’ve ever spoken in your life. She pulls back, practically glowing, and pats her lap.

“C’mere, baby,” she says softly and you don’t even hesitate before standing up. You inch your dress up your thighs and with a few maneuvers manage to straddle her generous hips. When you settle, she slides her hands up your thighs and you gasp at how cool her touch is.

“Air ghoul,” she says simply while caressing your legs, delighting in how the goosebumps pebble under her touch. You nod dumbly, bracing yourself on the arms of the lawn chair. You’re soaking wet, so wet you wouldn’t be surprised if you were leaving an embarrassing mark on the front of Cumulus’ black jeans but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s almost gleeful as her hands slide further up your thighs to grip at your hips and belly, her claws digging deliciously into your flesh. You bite back a moan at the sensation as your hips rock wantonly against her. All she has to do is lean forward ever so slightly and you’re lunging towards her to slam your mouth into hers. You’re over-eager but she’s patient, waiting for you to slow and match her pace as she languidly licks into your mouth. She makes sweet noises under you and you cant your hips again, sucking hungrily on her bottom lip. When she moves one of her hands from under your dress to pull at your hair you break the kiss with a loud moan. Cumulus smiles up at you beatifically as you continue to grind your sopping cunt onto her.

“P-please. Please Cumulus, I need you.”

She laughs at you, warm and bright, continuing to caress your scalp.

“You want me here? Right now, in the garden? Where anyone can see us? Filthy girl.”

A pitiful whine leaves your lips when you feel one of her claws toying with the waistband of your underwear. You’re starting to feel dizzy and drunk, long after the party punch has worn off. Her hand slides down between the two of you and you choke on your gasp when she pushes the gusset of your panties aside, letting her fingers brush at the heat of you. She inhales sharply through her nose and a small growl bubbles from her throat.

“So fucking wet, baby. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You nod frantically and your grip on the arms of the lawn chair becomes painful when she slips one finger between your folds and runs the pad of it over your clit. You practically howl and she rubs at you slowly, methodically. Cumulus is breathing heavily now, clearly enjoying the mess you’re making on her hand as she slides her finger inside of you and you loudly keen. Her pace begins to gradually quicken as she adds another finger, curling both inside of you to hit that gorgeous spot that makes lights dance across your vision. She’s gasping and heaving as much as you are as she fucks into you, the noises of your slick the only sound in the darkened garden. When she slows, your eyes fly to hers to plead and she grins.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers, honey. I want to see you come undone.”

Your jaw hangs open and your hips begin to rock against her stilled fingers. She’s got them curled perfectly inside you and you do as she asks, head tilting back as you use her. She’s whispering filthy things to you – that’s it love, so good for me, so fucking sweet – but you barely hear them over the sound of your own moans. Your hips and thighs burn from the effort of riding her hand and you’re about to collapse when you feel that familiar pull on your spine, moving upwards towards your chest. The sounds you’re making are lewd and you’ve probably attracted attention to your quiet garden spot but you can’t stop the jolt of your hips. When you open your eyes to look into her heated stare, you stop breathing for one beat, two beats, and then cry out sharply. She finishes the job, her fingers pistoning inside you at an impossible pace as you ride your orgasm, cunt clenching on her. Cumulus doesn’t stop when your body twitches with overstimulation, not until you mewl against her chest begging for mercy. Slowly, she removes her hand from your underwear and Satan, it’s embarrassingly wet, but she revels in it. Bringing her hand up to her mouth you see her fangs flash yet again as she wantonly licks a stripe up her palm and slips her two fingers inside her mouth. The sound she makes is enough to cause your hips to jerk against her one last time and when she pulls you in to taste yourself on her mouth you don’t object. Pressing your foreheads together she lets out a contented sound before cupping your cheeks in both her hands.

“We, uh,” the words feel heavy and slow on your tongue, “we should probably take this somewhere else.”

“Think you made enough noise to wake the dead, sweetheart, but sure. I know a place.”

When you finally disengage yourself from her and stand, the ache in your thighs and knees causes you to groan. She hops up with little effort and pulls you eagerly towards the direction of the ghoul den.

Your shoes sit forgotten in the grass.

[archangeldyke-all]

okay it’s been a while but could you do a pt. 3 to the slow living with sev reqs? Maybe this time it’s just about how they constantly get chosen by the cat distribution system despite always saying how they won’t take another?

adorable ! i was just thinking about these blurbs the other day :)

men and minors dni

the first cat comes to you about three years after you moved in. you guys are finally starting to get the hang of living a slow life, starting to get in the groove. and then a giant blizzard hits.

it's the biggest area you've seen in decades.

you guys were snowed in for days. it was nice for the first few days. like a little vacation-- no where to go and nothing to do but cuddle up by your wife and watch the world outside get blanketed in fluffy white snow.

but by day four, you and sevika were both getting antsy. cabin fever was setting in, and the weather had no intention of lightening up for days.

so that evening, when sevika leaves an icecube on the kitchen tiles to melt and you step in it, the two of you get into a petty, pointless, incredibly passionate argument. it lasts an hour-- mostly because you've got nothing better to do and you've gotta let off steam somehow.

just when sevika's finally fed up with your bickering and tries to distract you with kisses-- her eyes less annoyed and more lusty-- a howl sounds out from your porch.

you both run to the window.

sitting pressed up against the screen wall of your wrap around porch is a skinny white cat-- cringing as the snow batters him. you gasp. sevika gawks.

the cat's in the house in a flash.

the poor thing must have been stuck outside the entire storm-- and the two of you spend the rest of the storm cuddling around the pathetic little thing and feeding him shredded tuna.

and three days later, when the snow's expected to finally melt and the streets are expected to get cleared, you turn to sevika in bed and nudge her.

"you know we're keeping the cat, right?" you ask. sevika chuckles.

"i know." she says.

"wanna take it to the vet with me tomorrow? we can visit the pet shop after. i'll even let you name it." you say. sevika grins.

"cool."

"but i get veto power if you pick something stupid."

"well that's no fucking fun." she grumbles, flopping on her back in disappointment.

she does come with you to run errands the next day, but it takes her ten days to pick a name. it's hilarious.

she takes the process way too seriously-- trying to find something 'perfect' for the cat.

at one point you suggest 'snowball' and she rolls her eyes at you.

"that's way too basic-- you wanna name our white cat we got in a snowstorm 'snowball'?" she asks. you're kind of hurt at her criticism, but you also find it adorable how much she obviously loves the new addition to your little family.

the cat is sevika's first pet. she never had the time when she was an adult, and her parents didn't get her one as a child-- and it's incredibly clear to you that this cat in particular was sent to her.

you guys settle on icicle. apparently 'it's way more badass than snowball.'

sevika calls her ice for short. icicle sleeps on the pillow beside sevika's head.

icicle gets big and chunky in her first you with you and sevika-- neither of you can see past the night you first found her when she was skinny and shivering and so so so cold in your arms. so you spoil her.

sevika installs a little cat door in the porch, and she serves as great pest control for your garden.

on the first real day of summer, you walk outside and find sevika asleep in the hammock, the sun streaming down on her, icicle curled up on her chest. it's the cutest thing in the world.

you ask sevika once about maybe getting another cat for icicle so she'd have a friend, and sevika blinked at you, her eyes wide and her lip pouting as she spoke. "but i'm her friends."

so you guys don't get another cat. but icicle doesn't know that you've landed on this decision.

icicle is pretty friendly with most of the animals on your property. she respects the ducks-- they're too big for her to try to attack them. she loves the goats-- she loves napping with them.

so it really shouldn't have surprised you when one evening as you called out icicle's name through your back door-- ready to feed her dinner-- she came trotting up the stairs with a little ball of fur in her mouth.

she let it go at your feet, gave it a lick, then turned back around and returned with another fur ball, presenting it at your feet as well.

at first you thought maybe she'd caught some bunnies and was trying to show off-- the little fluffs of brown and grey fur beneath you were hardly moving. but when you got closer, you realized that they were kittens.

"where the fuck did you get these!?" you asked icicle. she just licked away at the little babies beneath her.

sevika found the four of you on the back stoop ten minutes later, gasping when you gently placed one of the tiny kitties in her arms.

"was ice pregnant?!" she asks you. you giggle.

"i--i dunno, we got her spayed, right?"

"what the fuck?" sevika asks her fur baby. icicle just licks her paw, the picture of innocence.

it turns out the kittens weren't icicle's. the vet says that she likely found them abandoned and made the decision to foster them. sevika scoffed at that, nudging you and huffing, "i guess we forgot to tell ice she's supposed to be an only child."

the kittens are fucking adorable. ice was an adult when you rescued her, and getting to watch the kittens grow up is so entertaining. they're so playful in the first few months, and icicle is a great kitty-mom, incredibly patient with her babies, gently teaching them the ropes of your property.

icicle even shares sevika with them, and often all three cats can be found tucked into sevika's side while she snores on the couch.

they're both boys, both from the same litter, and the gray one's a grumpy old man in a kitten's body, while the brown one is a sweet, curious little baby. so you decide to name them bert and ernie.

your bed gets a little more crowded, as all three cats like to sleep beside the two of you, but sevika doesn't mind.

she does start complaining about all the vacuuming she has to do, though.

so when a year later, the two of you are visiting the pet supply store and they're having an adoption event and you walk right by a wrinkly, scraggly, mostly hairless cat-- you both fall in love.

she's got four patches of orange hair-- one on each of his cheeks, one on his forehead, and one on the tip of her tail. looking at her head on-- she looks like a normal cat. and then when she turns to the side, as sevika says: she looks like a scrotum. she's adorable.

you tried to walk away, not needing another cat to buy food for-- but when the attendant told you that her name is 'shredded cheddar' and she was rescued from a fire-- hence the baldness-- and she only had a week left to get adopted before she'd be euthanized so a new cat could join the shelter-- well, what were you supposed to do?

shredded cheddar is your 'fourth and final' cat, sevika declared as she scooped the sweet, sleepy cat into her arms and began kissing the tuft of hair on her forehead. your just laughed at her and she glared at you.

"what?"

"every time you say that, we got another cat in our bed in a year." you say. sevika snorts.

that's not true.

it's true.

less than two months later, all four cats in your home start acting suspicious.

they're skittish around you and sevika, their food is disappearing-- you start to wonder if they've started going to neighboring properties and scamming other families out of food, pretending to be strays.

you find your answer a week later, while you're cooking.

sevika shouts out a curse from the basement, and you go flying down the stairs.

"what? what's wrong?!" you ask.

sevikas holding her chest and glaring at icicle where she's sitting in the corner.

"sev?" you ask. sevika gestures for you to come over to the closet she's got open, and you poke your head in, gasping as a pair of green eyes blink up at you from the dark, shadowed floor.

"is that a cat?!" you ask.

"i smelt wet food down here-- i thought maybe one of them threw up. nope-- they've all been harboring a fugitive-- feeding it their own food. she says, gesutring to where a pile of uneaten shreds of fish and beef sit beside the cat. you giggle.

"looks like we got another cat." you say, shrugging. sevika groans.

"you have to take over vacuuming for me. i can't deal with five cat's worth of hair in this house."

"or you could just give it up babe. we're the crazy lesbians that built their own house 'n grow their own food-- of course we're gonna be covered in cat hair." you laugh, leaning down to pick up the black cat and hug it to your chest. sevika pets its head, chuckling.

"fine. but i wanna name this one." she says, smiling down at the cat. you laugh.

"i get dibs on the next, then."

sevika just rolls her eyes.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

[localgirlywithnolife]

♡ ι'νє вєєη ¢σηƒυѕє∂ αѕ σƒ ℓαтє, ωαт¢нιηg му уσυтн ѕℓιρ αωαу ~

`♡~° ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ : ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ꜰᴀᴅᴇꜱ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ. ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

/ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ./

"Hey!"

You looked behind to see gojo frantically waving at you from the ocean.

"Join us he-"

Before he could finish whatever he was about to say he got splashed with a bucket of water by Riko.

"WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THE BUCKET FROM!?" Gojo yelled as he started to chase Riko in the ocean. You saw Suguru get out of the ocean and walk towards you.

"Care to join us?" He said with that boyish handsome smile of his.

"No, I think I'll pass for now."

"Why."

You gave him a bashful smile. "I need to really take in this scene of you guys playing in the water so that I can draw it...that way I'll never forget this moment". Some unrecognisable emotions flash across Suguru's eyes. Suddenly he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the ocean.

"W-wait, what are you doing, Suguru?"

"To draw a moment with the utmost accuracy...you need to experience it yourself beforehand." With that he pushed you into the ocean.

Safe to say you had one of the most fun in your life splashing water around with the three of them.

/ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ/

The sound of somewhat loud knocks filled the empty hallways of jujutsu high. You were on the verge of breaking down Suguru's rooms door.

"Geto Suguru open the damn door!"

Suddenly the door swung opened and the sight of a very sleep deprived Suguru welcomed you. He was trying to smile but you could see that it wasn't real

"Yes, (name)? A little bit more and you could have broken the do-" You didn't let him finish his sentence as you hugged him tightly. You could hear him gulp harshly.

"What happened-" You shushed him with your finger.

"I know what you're feeling dumbass but that doesn't mean you're going to give up over 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 incident. We've all been traumatised but that doesn't mean we can't get better damn it!" You were almost crying at this point. Suguru said nothing and hugged you back. You felt something wet touching your hair. It was obvious that he was crying. He was finally letting himself loose.

That night you both comforted each other by embracing and facing your fears and trauma .

/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ, ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒ/

"Satoru!" You called gojo from afar. Seems like he was training. Both of them haven't been the same as before. Suguru looked more and more tired each day. Satoru was overworking himself.

It's not like you were any better. Blaming yourself because of what happened in that godforsaken day. You were on the verge of going insane but kept it together. Shoko could do nothing but watch as her friends die a little by little.

"Yes, do you need anything (name)?" He asked as he stops training.

"Do you know where Suguru is? I can't seem to find him these days." You asked him with a worried tone attached to your voice.

"From what I know he has been going on a lot's of solo missions right now. I think he had a mission in a village today in particular." He explained thoroughly. From what it seems like, Suguru is avoiding you. You were confused but nodded and thanked him. You quickly left Satoru because it seemed like he was busy.

It's final, when he comes back today you'll confront him.

But he never came back.

/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ/

You don't remember the last time you got out of your room. That conversation still haunts you. You just hope and wish to the gods above that this is just a really crazy fever dream and that never happened. But let's be honest, you lost faith in Gods.

"He killed 112 villagers along with his parents to save two girls." Yaga states.

"What?" You asked quietly.

"In the reports of the incident, 112 villagers were killed by a cursed-"

"I HEARD YOU THE LAST TIME DIDN'T I!?" You screamed at his face.

"It's been proved-" You once again interrupted him.

"LIKE HELL HE DID? DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT? HOW CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? HE'S YOUR FUCKING STUDENT!" You were fuming with and anger but mostly disappointment. You were gripping your hand so hard that blood was dripping. There is no way the Suguru you know would do this...right?

"He has been sentenced to death (name)..."

You didn't say anything after that. You just left.

You tried to call him, text him, hell you even searched for him. Still no clue of him. At the end you just isolated yourself in your dorm room.

You had nothing to do

/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒᵒ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ/

"I thought star religious group already ended?" Suguru said while walking towards the stage wearing a kimono.

"It's a different group but the roots are the same, are you really going while dressed like this?"

"What? I need to make an impression." Suguru replied nonchalantly.

"Geto-sama!" Two children called out to him. He patted their heads and went to the stage.

"Hello everyone I apologise for the wait. So from now on please be sure to follow me."Many objected.

"Hmmm, now that's not good is it....yes! You right there." He pointed at a old man. His head got crushed. Blood splattered everywhere. Some even got on his face.

"Now let's try this again....You obey me now."

'I hate monkeys.

This is the path that I chose for myself.

The path to creating the perfect world.

A world where only jujutsu sorcerers are allowed to exist.

A world where ̷W̷̷e̷ can live in peace.

₥Ɇ ₳₦Đ ⱧɆⱤ'

He was lost in his thoughts when suddenly those two children surrounded him. He smiled and bent down to their level.

₩₳ł₮ ₣ØⱤ ₥Ɇ ₥Ɏ ⱠØVɆ.

/ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ?/

You were running like your life depended on it. Well it did.

"(Name) Suguru is here."You dropped everything you were doing after Shoko called you stating Suguru is near.

You needed so many answers from him.Why?Running through the crowd, bumping into. some people. Even though they cursed at you, you had no time to say anything or apologise.

You see him.

"Suguru!" You shouted. He looked behind to see you panting.

"Oh hey (Name)." He gave you a soft smile.

"Explain." You glared at him.

"Didn't Shoko tell you?" He fully turned around this time.

"So you're just going to kill everyone who's not a sorcerer!? I thought we wouldn't kill unless it had a point!?" You shouted.

"There is a point. A reason." He states calmly.

"That's bullshit Suguru! Killing everyone just to create a world for jujutsu sorcerers. That's beyond impossible!" You shouted again.

"How arrogant of you." He said calmly. His voice devoid of any emotion and at the same time it sounded like he had no regrets or feelings about what he had done.

"But....what about you and Satoru? If you guys wanted....together we could do it, couldn't we?" His words sent chills down your spine.

"After all, we were the strongest trio...weren't we?" You did not like the way he said that.

"I have decided how I want to live my life (name), what I want to devote myself in. Now it's a matter of doing my best to achieve my goals." He started walking the opposite way after saying that.

You couldn't just watch him leave like that.

You had to do something right?

So why was your hands shaking as you tried to activate your cursed technique?

"If you want to kill me here, do it I won't stop you. There is a point in killing me." He repeated your words.

You were hyperventilating. You need to do something anything.

Anything please.

You couldn't do anything at the end.

/ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ/

You could feel all that all too familiar cursed energy.

"Damn it! Gather every jujutsu sorcerer available here right now!" You followed the command. You were numb at this point. You stopped smiling long ago. You are just a living machine who followed commands.

Then why did your heart started to beat a little faster when you felt him around?

Gojo dealt with the situation way better than you though. But that doesn't mean his way of coping was good. Drowning himself in practice. You both were just as broken as the other. Both you and gojo ran to your students. There stood Geto. All in his glory, holding Yuuta's hands.

"Get your hands off of my students Suguru." Gojo calmly says. You just stood behind Satoru with your stotic expression.

"Oh Satoru and (name)! Long time no see!" He waved at both of you.

It never failed to flutter your heart when he waved and smiled like that.

Even if it's broken.

"Step away from the students Geto Suguru." Your voice was devoid of any emotion. It made Suguru's heart ache but he said nothing. He just smirked.

"I heard your new first year students are amazing. Never failed to find true talent huh? But oh....what is the Zenin clans failure doing here?" He mocked Maki.

"You bastard!" Maki pointed her weapon at him.

"Watch your words. I don't need any monkeys like you in my world." Suguru glared harshly at Maki.

"You watch your own mouth Suguru. I will not tolerate any insults towards my students." You threatened Suguru. It hurt your heart to talk to him like this but you had no choice.

"My apologies (name), It wasn't my intention to make you angry." He scratched his neck sheepishly.

"Then what exactly did you come for, Suguru?" Satoru was now in front of Suguru.

"To declare war." He states seriously.

"Everyone here, Listen up closely, On the upcoming December 24th when the sun sets, We shall conduct the night parade of a hundred demons. It will take place in the crucible of curses, Shinjuku and the sacred land of jujutsu Kyoto. We will unleash a thousand curses upon each place.

And of course they're only intention would be 'massacre'.

If you wish to stop this scene straight out of hell. Come and stop it with all your might.

Let us freely curse each other to our hearts content!" He smiled.

Except it wasn't the soft and handsome smile you were so used to once. His smile right now contained nothing but malice. Everyone was silent.

"Ahhhh Geto-sama!!! The store will close!" A young teen suddenly shouted.

"Oh it's already that late? Sorry Satoru and (name). The girls insist to eat some crepes." He started to leave.

"Hurryyyyy!" That same girl shouted again.

"Did you think you'd be able to leave so easily?" You said getting in Suguru's way.

"Oh well, I doubt you'd want to do that. The precious students that you both care so much about are all within my range." Numerous types of curses surrounded the first years.

"Well, see you all on the battlefield!" He left once again.

You were frozen on your feet like all those times. You couldn't move.

You had failed to do anything once again.

A/N: so uhhh this is my first time writing a one-shot and it's kinda unfinished. If this is well received I might make pt.2 idk. SO NERVOUS ABT THIS RAHHHH.

Do not repost or copy without my permission. Please reblog to support me. Thank you for reading ♡~

Dividers used from @cafekitsune and @rookthornesartistry ♡