#she cares you know- shes better than i in that way

[merrinla]

More finds in the cut content. What's interesting is that this is post-game content. I don't know if these are pieces of DLC or an extended epilogue. Rook and Lucanis drink wine in a gondola. In one version, Lucanis refused to be First Talon and left the crows. The Viper arrives to Treviso to hire Lucanis to kill the local Venatori. The lines in the localization file are out of order. I've organized them as best I could, but I'm not sure if everything is correct.

The gondola scene

Rook: What are we celebrating? Revenge? Saving the world? Lucanis: How about a quiet moment? Rook: Is it quiet? Really? Lucanis: If it's not quiet, it's at least clear.

Option: If only the Antaam were gone. Rook: Treviso's beautiful. Too bad it's filled with Antaam.

Option: You're surprisingly romantic. Rook: Who knew you were a romantic? Lucanis: You bring it out in me. Rook: Yeah, yeah. I'm a bad influence.

Option: Let's not go back. Rook: Let's stay here forever. Lucanis: A little. Not forever.

Rook: What? No fancy glasses? Lucanis: That's Caterina's style. I'm more pragmatic. Lucanis: Well, more pragmatic than her anyway.

Option: Learn from your elders. Rook: There's nothing wrong with a bit of class. Lucanis: (Chuckles) I'll remember for next time. Rook: Oh yes. This is so pragmatic. Lucanis: I know.

Option: Casual's better. Rook: Less clean up. Rook: That's why we're having drinks in a gondola instead of the kitchen. Lucanis: Knew you'd understand.

Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize our home... (Crow Origin) Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize Antiva... Rook: Does it feel wrong?

(apparently Rook moved, causing the boat to rock.) Lucanis: Careful. Gondolas are more fashionable than they are stable. Rook: They're plenty sturdy. Rook: See. Nothing to— Rook: Oops? Lucanis: You were saying? Rook: Sorry. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Classic Rook. Rook: I've made things awkward. Lucanis: I like this side of you. Lucanis: More wine? Rook: I saved the wine? Lucanis: (Laughs)

(Talon's version) Rook: How are you settling in as First Talon? Lucanis: There was some initial... friction with Caterina, but she got over it. Lucanis: She thought I'd do things her way and was surprised when I had my own ideas. Rook: Really? You'd think she'd be the most welcoming. Lucanis: No.

Rook: Have you spoken to Caterina or the others? Lucanis: Letters here and there. We haven't met since the party. Lucanis: I don't want to cut ties. Lucanis: But Caterina needs to get used to the fact that I'm no longer her heir. Rook: Are you used to it? Lucanis: I was never comfortable with the role to begin with. Rook: So, no regrets? Lucanis: (Sigh) Rook: It's a yes or no question, Lucanis. Lucanis: It's not. You've enough experience with regret to know that.

Rook: I respect your decision to walk away. Lucanis: It wasn't an easy decision. Lucanis: It was hard. Walking away. Rook: It was hard watching it. Lucanis: Let's not talk about me.

Rook: It's not an interrogation if you care. Lucanis: Why not? I've been thoroughly interrogated. Rook: (Snorts) Is that how it works?

Option: Your priorities have changed. Rook: You've changed your tune. Lucanis: I am. On what's important.

Lucanis: Rook. I owe you. For my life, my freedom.

Option: Consider it paid in full. Rook: That debt was paid when you helped us defeat the elven gods. Lucanis: No. That was a job. What you've done for me...

Option: I needed a mage killer. Rook: I had selfish reasons. Lucanis: Rook. I'm serious. Lucanis: Whatever your reasons...

Lucanis: The Venatori killed the man I was. Lucanis: You put the fight—the life—back into me. Rook: I... Thanks.

Lucanis: If you need someone taken care of... Just say the word. Lucanis: Your enemies are House Dellamorte's enemies. (Talon's line) Lucanis: Your enemies are my enemies.

Option: You make murder sound sweet. Rook: Awww. That's sweet. And scary. Lucanis: Of course those are the same thing to you. Rook: I was only teasing. Lucanis: How am I supposed to argue when you say things like that?

Option: I'll settle for friendship. Rook: Or we could just be friends? No killing required. Rook: I still care about you—as a friend. Lucanis: Didn't want you to get the wrong idea... Lucanis: We're still friends. Lucanis: If that's what you want... Rook: Appreciate it.

(non romance/friendship version?) Rook: Oh, I'm aware. Just haven't figured out what I want in return. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Lucanis: For a price. Rook: And you'll charge me... Lucanis: Like I said—a fair rate. (Talon's line) Lucanis: I'm not a Crow anymore. Rates are negotiable. Rook: Still sounds pretty Crow-y to me.

Rook: It's passed sundown. Lucanis: (Sighs) Rook: Time to go? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Lucanis: Don't worry. I'll collect. Rook: Fun time over? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Possibly lines from a subsequent quest.

Rook: Business at a Chantry. Not very Andrastian of you. Lucanis: What in our experience together makes you think I'm a good Andrastian? Rook: (Chuckles) Fair enough.

Rook: You sound like you have a plan. Lucanis: Always another mark. Rook: I take it the Antaam are the subject of this so-called analysis? Rook: Why do I get the feeling there's going to be less "analysis" and more stabby-stab? Lucanis: Keeps Wrath content. (Wrath is Spite's previous name?)

Lucanis: Viago said it'd be a fitting spot. Rook: You've proven it's a good spot for an ambush. Lucanis: And you're loud. Which do you think will attract the Antaam?

Meeting with Ashur. It seems as if Lucanis and the Viper were discussing their business, and then Rook came.

The Viper: If you don't trust my intel— Lucanis: I trust your intel and... Lucanis: Fortunate the Rook is here to save the day. Rook: The Rook can detect sarcasm!

Option: Ashur, you shouldn't be here. Rook: This isn't Minrathous. Rook: Ashur, if the Antaam find out you're here... The Viper: I've paid the right people so that they don't.

Option: You two make quite the pair. Rook: The Viper and the Demon. Sounds like a nursery rhyme to scare children.

The Viper: I was just leaving. Rook: Leaving so soon? Rook: You don't have to. Lucanis and I could show you the sights. Rook: There's wine tasting, Antaam assassinating, gambling— Lucanis: Rook. The Viper: You're ruining Rook's fun. Rook: Think about my offer.

The Viper: Should I pay now or— Lucanis: Just go.

Rook: What did he want? Lucanis: Some of us have work to do. Lucanis: It's about time I take care of things at home.

Rook: Who's the mark? Lucanis: Venatori who fled Minrathous after Elgar'nan's fall. Rook: That's why Ashur was here. Lucanis: He's the one who hired me to dismantle the Venatori in the first place. Lucanis: Might as well finish the job.

The most unclear part. Maybe it's related to the quest to kill the Venatori that Viper pointed out.

Rook: Can't take the huge door. Lucanis: The Venatori are inside. Strike from above and we'll take them by surprise. Rook: Above, eh? Rook: Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.

Rook: Not sure why Antivans even build doors. Rook: We never use them. (Crow Origin) Rook: You never use them. Lucanis: We're the Antivan-fucking-Crows.

Rook: We need to be cautious. Rook: If we're not careful, he'll kill the girl. Lucanis: Not if he's dead.

Lucanis: Focus on the self-important bastard. I'll take care of the rest. Rook: They're all self-important—and why do you get so many? Lucanis: Their predictability makes them easy targets.

Venatori: Two, four, six piggies come to slaughter. Venatori: Be grateful. Your meager existence will serve a higher cause. Rook: I'll show you a higher cause right up your— Venatori: (Grunts!) Venatori: Uh—God killer! Right he— Lucanis: Mage killer. Venatori: (Yells in pain) Rook: Lucanis! That's cheating! Lucanis!

Lucanis: Fucking Venatori. Rook: (Sigh) You can take the blood mages out of Minrathous, but…

[goldenroutledge]

kiss you soon

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

prompt: ❛ if you’re tired of kissing me, i’d better go. ❜

summary: three times where lando can’t get enough of you.

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

the first time.

“Just one more, darling.” Lando bats his eyelashes from where he sits in his makeup chair, with you lounging on a plush couch nearby. He’s filming an interview with Hilton today, so he got some touch ups from a makeup artist. His eyes glance at the door every so often to make sure she won’t be here to scold him for messing anything up. “Come on, please?”

You stand up, granting his wishes by kissing him gently. His fingertips brush your cheek as he deepens the kiss, clearly craving more than just a peck.

He smirks when he pulls away to look in the mirror, checking out the gloss on your lips that has transferred onto his. The crew on set will surely put two and two together. “Look at that baby, you made me pretty for TV.”

You giggle, pinching his cheek. “You need no help with that.”

Lando shrugs. “Maybe not. At least it will send a message, though.”

“You want all of your fans to know that you were making out with someone before the shoot?”

“Yes, it will put those nasty Norizz rumors to rest, and maybe the camera guy who’s been eyeing you since we got here will take a fucking hint.” Lando gives you his signature cheeky grin as his eyes roam your features lovingly. “Not that I can blame him.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks, and for that, you peck his lips one last time. “No more flattery, you’re on the job. That sweet talk won’t get you very far right now.”

“It’s gotten me far enough.” He muses cockily, laughing as you take a throw pillow from the couch and aim it for his head.

A few knocks sound on the door and the production assistant tells him that Max and the crew are waiting for him in the next room. Lando gets up, but not without blowing you a kiss through the air first.

You pretend to catch it, blowing one back to him. “Go get ‘em.”

“I’ll try!” Lando shouts, making his way to the nearby room where the interview is being filmed with his best friend.

Upon finally seeing Lando arrive on set, Max stands up from his own chair that reads ‘TALENT’ on the back of it. “It took you long enough! What was the hold up?”

Lando doesn’t respond verbally; the grin that spreads across his face is better at revealing what exactly he’s been up to this time. “Oh, right.” Max acknowledges, remembering that you’ve been with Lando in his dressing room all morning. “Does that explain why your lips are so shiny then? They didn’t do that to my lips.”

Lando laughs when he notices the candid moment between them is being captured by a camera, coincidentally being filmed by the same guy that he knows has the hots for you. “Apparently there’s a kissing scene in this. Y/n and I were just practicing.”

Max pretends to gag, shaking his head in faux disgust. “Alright then, I’m leaving.”

Lando turns to the camera man who looks almost stunned at the confession. So much for his PR training, it’s gone out the window by now. Months have gone by since he was last inside a Formula 1 paddock and it didn’t take long to wear off at all. “Make sure to keep that in the final cut, okay?”

–

the second time.

“You’re tense, honey.” Lando murmurs while his hands massage your shoulders as gently as they can.

“Tell me about it. I think I slept wrong.” You wince but lean into his touch, telling him to massage harder because it hurts so good.

“Or you’ve just been stressed out lately? Trying to be everything to everyone without taking care of yourself.” Lando suggests as if it’s obvious. There’s nothing he’s more attuned to than your well being, he’s always quick to notice anything that might be going on with you. It’s truly a blessing and a curse.

“Thank you, Dr. Norris, but I just have a lot on my plate right now. It’ll pass.”

“But I can’t just sit back and let you forget about yourself in the process.” Lando adds, planting a kiss to your exposed neck. “You deserve to relax, it just so happens that I can help with that.”

Your fingers run through his curls, letting your eyes flutter shut as he focuses more on leaving trails of kisses on your skin and less on massaging the tension from your muscles. “I think I need one of your yoga classes. Remember when we did yoga on the beach in Miami?”

“How could I forget? Stretching you out happens to be my favorite pastime.”

You gasp, smacking at his hand lightly. “Lando!”

“What? I meant stretching you out for yoga. Don’t tell me your mind went other places...”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“-ly funny. I know I am, baby. And I got your mind off things already, didn’t I?”

“That you did. Maybe you’re not such a bad doctor after all.” You sigh contentedly, turning around to pepper his lips with kisses. “And it pains me to say this, but I still have so much more work to do that I should be getting back to.”

“When was the last time you took a break?”

You smile against his lips, breaking away for a moment. “Doesn’t this count as a break?”

“No, it does not. I’m talking something that lasts longer than a few kisses before you go back to spending hours staring a hole through your laptop.” Lando trails his hands across your shoulders and down your back, never pulling away too far from you. “These knots won’t work themselves out. Just let me take care of you. Please?”

“Well since you asked so nicely…” Your hands travel from tangling in his hair to resting on his chest. “How about in 30 minutes from now?”

Lando groans, you can feel the vibrations against your lips. He finally pulls away, putting some distance between you two. “Fine. If you’re tired of kissing me, I’d better go.”

“No! I’m never tired.” You whine more urgently than you mean to, surely boosting his ego more than it needs to be boosted. To prove it, you kiss him once more.

It’s short-lived as he pulls back with a smug grin. “I can tell, darling.”

“You’re a tease. I won’t even be able to focus now, thanks to you.”

Lando makes his way towards the door, deciding to leave you to your work. The sooner you finish, the sooner you’ll kiss him again. “Good. When you’re done trying to focus, you know where to find me.”

–

the third time.

It’s a McLaren 1-2 for Lando and Oscar to kick off the season.

Everyone in papaya rushes to parc ferme, ready to greet the drivers in an aggressively eager embrace, you included. From the moment Lando stood on top of his car, waving a fist in the air, you were cheering at the top of your lungs.

Lando hops down from his car and rushes to where you’re standing behind the barriers, passing by his team before he gets to you. He engulfs you into his arms, and neither of you care about the sweat that he’s accumulated during the race.

“You did it!” You shriek, and the sound is surely picked up by the nearby camera capturing your interaction. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“What did I tell you?” Lando muses, reminding you of the confidence he’s had all weekend about winning today. The quiet promise your boyfriend made that he’d win this race for you, and he did. But the people didn’t need to know that. It was just fine being a kept secret between the two of you.

Neither of you had made it a point to confirm your relationship publicly, wanting to keep your romance under wraps for as long as you could. You can’t risk anyone trying to pop your love bubble. It was only because of Lando’s insistence that you were in parc ferme with everyone to begin with.

Lando proudly embraces his team and Oscar follows suit. The two drivers congratulate each other and the crowd roars once again. Lando hears you better than anyone else, though maybe he’s just acutely aware of the sound of your voice. He smiles at you, helmet off this time, and stops in his tracks.

“You coming? What are you waiting for?” Oscar questions, realizing that Lando isn’t keeping up alongside him on their way to the cooldown room.

“Give me one second!”

Before his teammate can ask why he’s rushing back to you, Lando’s lips are on yours and he’s kissing you for the world to see, surprising you both. You always knew Lando could be impulsive, but this was different. It doesn’t take long for you to melt into his hold, smiling against his lips with pride and it sends the crowd into a frenzy.

The look you give him is one of astonishment, as if to say, ‘I can’t believe you just did that!’. If nothing else, it’ll give you something to talk about later. Lando walks away cooly, receiving a nudge in the ribs from Oscar as they walk away.

“Looks like you have more than just the win to celebrate, eh?”

Lando smirks, shrugging to play off his public display, or declaration, of love for you as if it was meant to happen. And in many ways, it was. “Something like that.”

There’s nothing quite like standing on the top step of the podium, it’s a feeling that Lando could get used to. As long as you’re here cheering him, he plans on it. The Australian sun shines onto the podium and the trophies sparkle from its golden rays. ‘God Save the King’ plays throughout the paddock, and Lando spots you front and center in the crowd.

He winks, blowing a kiss in your direction as you beam with joy. The questions will be endless as to who Lando was kissing below the podium, but he doesn’t care. When this is over, he’ll be able to kiss you with the world watching, like nobody’s watching at all. Lando can say confidently that is by far his biggest win of the day.

💌: comments & reblogs are always appreciated! feel free to request more from the be my valentine blurb event!

taglist: @marjorieswrld @n3versatisfied @freyathehuntress

(add yourself here!)

[vershautece]

husband lu headcanons

self indulgent thoughts of how i think lu would take care of u kinda tradwife but also just him being so masculine and sexy and caring omg!!! NSFW and SFW

- he’d hold you in his arms whenever you’re upset, even when he’s working you’ll just climb onto his lap and you know not to disturb him but he’ll just let you sit there with your arms around his neck and he’s pressing soft kisses to your shoulders and your hair

- daydreaming about his arms and hands, how his hands would caress up and down your waist as you make out, and when you’re cuddling his arms would wrap so tight around you protectively; if he had one arm around your waist and his other hand caressing your cheek oh god

- brushing your hair out of your face and holding it back for you while you suck his cock, also cradling the side of your face in his hand

- cooing at you when you’re on his lap (or on his cock lol, but this thought is sfw) ‘you okay, beautiful?’ ‘c’mere, take deep breaths’ ‘i know you’re stressed, i know. rest on my lap’

- he’s such a good listener, holding you in his arms while you rant or open up to him: ‘yeah, baby? i know’ nodding at everything you say and giving you answers for everything

- making him food all the time, he’d come home and dinner would be on the table immediately for him :)

- he’d love coming up behind you whenever you’re doing something (usually when you’re baking or cooking) to grip your waist and ass, pecking your cheek and neck

- sometimes he’d fuck you way too hard, you asked for it because you were so horny but you end up struggling to walk afterwards, so he’d carry you everywhere bridal style and bathe with you the 2 days after until the aches are gone

- him being obsessed with the way your left hand wraps around his cock with the ring he bought you ;)

- sex allll the timeeee. your sex life has always been perfect, but after getting married it somehow got even better - you’re getting that dick every night on whatever surface in the house you want :) if he’s stressed or you’re stressed it’s even better, he’ll fuck the shit out of you to distract himself or calm you down

- morning sex on weekends, particularly on sundays when you both dedicate your time to a lazy morning together. you’d wake up late, cuddling and talking, then some slow, cosy sex before you both take a shower together, and then you make the two of you breakfast in your robe while he gets dressed :’)

- it’s not long after you get married that you get pregnant; i think his sister got pregnant like right after she got married so i think his mom would gently pressure u both after your wedding too, because his family are traditional and expect grandchildren - what she wouldn’t know though is that u guys are more than ready because lu has been telling you you’re having his children for about 2 years prior lol

and during pregnancy he’s giving you your usual princess treatment x100 - carrying you bridal style everywhere, laying with you whenever he can caressing your bump, buying all your pregnancy cravings even in the middle of the night, making love to you whenever you’re horny even if he’s exhausted or you wake him up from sleep, and he would shave for you when your belly gets too big that you can no longer reach :’)

^ i wanna do specific hcs for having kids with him so i won’t go into detail in this post

- his mom teaching you all his favorite italian meals so you can make them for him :’)

- when you have kids you have to be careful about when and where you have sex when they’re in the house, so sometimes you’ll be cleaning the kitchen or something while they’re upstairs and he’ll pull up your skirt or dress and fuck you right there, you have to mostly rely on quickies until they’re with their grandparents or godparents, but!!!!! shower sex is ur favorite thing together, because when your kids are asleep and the water’s so loud you can fuck for as long and as hard as you want :p

- omg also!! when your kids are asleep and you’re watching TV downstairs by the fireplace he’d fuck you so slowly on the couch under a blanket

- sucking his cock whenever you can tell he’s stressed, even if he doesn’t ask you can always tell what he wants and you’ll provide for him like the perfect wife you are !!!

- fixing his tie for him every morning and pulling him into you by his tie to kiss him

- vacation several times a year because we know lu loves to travel; he’d take all your pictures for you as your own personal photographer, you’d lounge under the sun together all day, then make love in your villa at night with the sound of the ocean outside your window :3

- he’s aaaalways playing with your fingers and kissing your hand, he does this in public a lot if you’re nervous or just if he wants to show u some affection :) he’d play with the ring on your finger and tell you you’re all his

- the things he’d say to you out of nowhere like while you’re cuddling or just coming up behind you to whisper in your ear: ‘look so pretty’ ‘my beautiful wife’ ‘baby, you’re all mine’

- whenever you get dressed up; ‘spin for me’ :3

- he’s always making you blush and giggle

- after you’ve been wearing heels all day he’ll take them off for you and massage and kiss your feet as you tell him about your day

- his family love you, and everyone knows you’re the most perfect couple :’) they talk about you both all the time

- he always has his arm around you, always holding your hand, fixing your makeup for you, holding your bags, everyone around you sees how he treats you like a princess

- thinking about in missionary how you’d push on his abdomen when it’s too much bc he’s so big and he’d almost cum instantly from looking down at your hand and seeing the rock he put on your finger >.<

- he’d keep note of everything, like he’d know when your makeup products are running out and he’d buy you new ones, he’d know your menstrual cycle and know exactly how you’re feeling throughout the month

- speaking of your cycle… he’d know when you’re ovulating and he’d treat you sooo well. that rough passionate sex during ovulation week, oh he’d give you everything you need 😊

- i didn’t wanna make this post too much about your children bc i wanna save it for another post but him scolding your kids in front of you omg while you’re cleaning the house or something and now you’re soaked hehe.. another thought is watching him coo and rock your babies to sleep and then get into bed with you and give it to you so good all night :D

- that post wedding sex…. and your honeymoon… all night long literally you were seeing stars by the end of the night

- he would be so so protective over you, his arm tight around your waist, giving you soft pecks on your neck while you’re speaking to men - he’s not the type for lots of pda, just enough to make you feel safe and secure with him

- the smell of his aftershave while he’s getting ready for the day and you’re sat in bed watching him pull up his boxers and >.< omg watching him shaveee in the mirror and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek

- he’d loooove pampering you in the bath or the shower, you’re his beautiful wife and he’ll do anything for you

- he’d read to you in bed when you need comforting, pulling you onto his lap and holding you by your waist, or laying down spooning you

- he’d buy you your fav glosses and lip balms without you asking because he’s obsessed with tasting the strawberry and watermelon flavor on your lips hehe

- him holding both you and his baby girl to his chest while you’re all asleep in bed or on the couch :’(

- gripping his bicep while you’re walking

- always sleeping naked or almost naked, he loves laying on your boobs <3

- so many sweet, slow evenings by the fireplace where he’s holding you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings to you and kissing your skin

so there are my thoughts oh i need to be married to him right now. 😔🩵

[akawifeyy]

REPUTATION | smau (CS55)

description: ...and in the death of her reputation, she'd never felt more alive. the story of y/n l/n, and how one scandal altered her life forever.

tropes: us against the world, reinvention, age gap (25 and 30), mv33!ex, popstar!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing, hate speech & misogyny

| note: currently clowning as i wait for the release of reputation (taylor's version), so i wrote a fic based on it!

comments (9103):

@ user1: diabolical coming from a man who looks like sid the sloth 🤨

@ user2: I don't listen to Y/N L/N's music, but she deserves more credit than what Max is giving her.

-> @ user3: I agree, you don't get famous from nothing. she put in a lot of work and Max is invalidating that

@ user4: no way bro is reducing her to just a pretty face when he lacks that 🗣️

@ yourusername: was i just a fool?

tagged: @ yourbffusername

comments (3742):

@ user5: We love you Y/N 🫶

@ user6: don't listen to the haters y/n we absolutely adore you

@ yourbffusername: my flawless queen 👑

@ user7: Everything Max Verstappen says about you is true, you sound like a dying whale every time you open your mouth

comment deleted by @ yourusername

Interview with Max Verstappen (2025):

After being asked about his opinion on his ex — Y/N L/N —'s newest single, Max Verstappen grew visibly agitated and attempted to change the subject. When forced to reply, he scathingly responded, "She used me as a stepping stool to reach the next level of fame, and she got what she wanted. The past is in the past, and I don't care about her anymore."

comments (29458):

@ user3: Insinuating that Y/N slept with him to become famous is repulsive, and I hope Max gets what's coming for him

-> @ user8: didn't he literally cheat on y/n?? 😭

@ user9: "I don't care about her anymore" the eyes never lie chico, we know how you really feel

@ user10: I've never been a MV33 fan and this just adds fuel to the fire.

@ user11: can someone PLEASE explain to me what's going on? I know Max and Y/N were together at one point but I got grounded and had my phone taken away for a loooong time so I don't even know anything anymore 🙂‍↔️

-> @ user8: @ popculturetea just made an amazing timeline explaining everything!

@ yourusername's Private Instagram Story

@ popculturetea's Timeline

@ f1ynlover: mama y papa, mama y papa

tagged: @ carlossainzjr, @ yourusername

comments (4852):

@ user12: I bet Y/N doesn't wanna touch another F1 driver with a ten foot pole, but this pairing would absolutely devour 😜

-> @ user8: he would 100% match her freak

@ yourusername: i do love chili peppers 🌶️

@ yourusername: we're balling not bawling

tagged: @ yourproducer, @ carlossainzjr

comments (3832):

@ user13: OMG

@ yourproducer: Next big song is on the way!

@ user14: Carlos Sainz tagged is crazyyyy

-> @ user4: he's definitely the mystery man 🫣

Text messages between Carlos and Y/N (2025):

@ grillthegrid: The difference between Max Verstappen (c. 2022) and Max Verstappen (c. 2025). Crazy

tagged: @ f1, @ maxverstappen

comments (49325):

@ user15: NOT THE OFFICIAL GRILL THE GRID ACC PIPING IN ON THIS DRAMA

-> @ user16: it's the loss of y/n effect 🤗

@ user17: Cheating on Y/N will do that to you lmaoo

@ user18: Sid the sloth ahh 🥱🥱

@ carlossainzjr: F1 drivers were given a second chance, and I wasn't going to screw it up. Más que feliz de ser su pimiento picante para siempre. Happy 2 months, mi amor.

(More than happy to be her spicy pepper forever.)

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (7392):

@ yourusername: you're so much better <3

@ user1: soooo cute 🥲🥰

@ user19: Spicy pepper and firecracker, a dream made in heaven

-> @ user20: They're perfect for each other omg 🥹

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[kay-jay-self-shipping]

Okay, I'm doing this with 03 and 04, so are there romantic gestures my OCs love and hate. I'll even do this for their canon love interests too!

Orochimaru x Kaede

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Orochimaru loves it when Kaede becomes submissive to his touch. Given her antagonistic attitude, he knows whenever she gives herself to him, she is showing him the trust she has in him, and it brings forth a carnal desire he can never satisfy.

Kaede loves it when Orochimaru will show he cares in small, barely noticeable ways. Is there a book Kaede wants, even if it's that dreaded Icha-Icha novel? She'll find it on her bed one day with no note or mention of who got it for her. Does she need a hug after a horrible evening? Orochimaru will summon her to his chamber and rest her head on his chest without a word. Regardless of the action, she adores this small, secret side of him no one else sees.

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Orochimaru is not a hopeless romantic, he hates overly fond gestures and lovey-dovey behaviour as a whole. He thanks his lucky stars daily that Kaede doesn't tell him "I love you" or shower him in sickening affection.

Kaede hates false gestures. If you make a promise to go for a walk with her, you better keep to that promise. She had a husband once who swore to love her forever, but he lied, so false promises and affections are a deal-breaker for her. Thankfully with Orochimaru, he's pretty bluntly honest and despite his sinister nature, he keeps to his promises pretty damn well!

Lotor x Ziera

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Lotor adores it when his partner is feeling particularly affectionate or giving him sweet words of praise. He spent his entire life in an environment void of love, and to hear Ziera gently kiss his cheek and wish him a wonderful day has his heart soaring more than it really should.

Ziera adores it when Lotor simply holds her hand or turns around to curl up against her when they sleep. She is an alien that shares many traits with felines, so the warmth and security Lotor gives her in those moments mean more to her than any gift ever could.

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Lotor is like Kaede, he hates false promises or fake love. He wants a partner that truly loves him for who he is, and wishes to spend their life with him. Even when Ziera lost her memories, but was told she had dated him previously, she refused to start a relationship with him until she remembered and reciprocated his affections, and he just fell in love with her more for it.

Ziera cannot stand extravagant gifts or over-the-top displays of affection. She'd rather be given a tool-kit to craft her own ship, than be given the best fighter jet within the Galra Empire. Thankfully, Lotor understood this about her before they even started dating, so when he intends to get her a gift, he keeps her love for building and hatred for over-spending in mind. To date, the most expensive things he's bought her are top-of-the-line tools, and the pendant she wears around her neck.

Mereoleona x Lucia

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Mereoleona is a physical person, actions always speak louder than words for her, and the same can be said romantically too. She loves it when Lucia will step out of her comfort zone to initiate any kind of affection, and while she teases the cold woman for it, she reciprocates with her usual burst of boisterous energy.

Lucia is a simple woman who likes spending time with her partner above all else. Thankfully Mereoleona made it a habit to lower her 300 day training trips to a more manageable 259 training trip, giving them a nice two months of time together. Hell, on the off chance Mereoleona needs to go away for longer, sometimes Lucia will join her.

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Mereoleona hates it when people say they love each other too much. It feels false and it's annoying. It was one of the reasons she and Lucia gelled together well when they started dating, because Lucia made it VERY clear she wasn't the type to share her feelings often, but did like to show it with small acts of kindness.

Lucia is pretty much the same as Mereoleona, she hates it when people express their feelings too often. It gives the word less value and feels more like a mark of ownership rather than an admittance of adoration. Luckily Mereo is more of an actions-speak-louder kind of woman, and she finds the more simple affections such as a kiss or holding hands to be far more comfortable.

Piers x Thorn

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Piers loves it when his partner spends time with him, whether they're cuddles up watching movies on his Rotom Phone, or chatting while one of them is practicing their instruments and the other is cleaning their house, it's makes him feel at ease. Thorn is definitely more bold in her affections than he'd like, but she knows when a simple and silent form of affection is more appropriate, and he loves that about her.

Thorn loves it when her partner tries to get into her interests, even if its something as silly as trying her favourite dish. Piers is a shy bean, yes, but if it's in the comfort of her or his home, he'll probably become curious about her newest intrustment or latest obsession and try to get into it himself. Plus, it's cute when he tries a new food and his face scrunched up when he doesn't like it. Oh well, he tried at least~!

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Piers is not into extreme PDA or exaggerated displays of affection. He is a shy man and prefers to keep his loving kisses and hugs inside the home where they can be enjoyed in peace. Thorn sometimes messes with him by holding his hand in public, but honestly... that's the only one he's fine with. However, if she kisses him, he will turn beet red and glare at her as she laughs. (He reminds himself often that he loves her.)

Thorn is a pretty chill person, overall. She's not one to despise any form of gesture or action her partner does. But if she had to pick one, it would be false affection. Her parents were obsessed with their image to the point of destroying her life until she left home, she doesn't want to pretend to be someone she's not for anyone else. Thankfully, Piers is a wholesome and genuine person, so she knows she's not going to run into that issue anytime soon.

Leona x Danika

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Leona LOVES physical affection from his partner. Given he's a lion beastman, it makes sense that he'd love a nap with his lover more than anything else. Danika, being a quiet, and generally introverted person makes his desire to nap with her just soar through the roof, because more often than not, she's down to snooze the day away with him.

Danika is a sucker for praise and loving words, she spent her whole life being hated by those in her hometown, so to know someone actually loves her makes her day just a little brighter. Leona still has to work on this sadly, but even if he flops, when he sends her a text later that says "I guess I was an asshole before, huh? Look, I love you, so get back here so I can make it up to you, my needy little Raven." It makes her heart swell.

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Leona hates it when people try to buy his affection with gifts. He's a prince, for f*ck's sake, he has far too much money as it is! Buying him things does nothing for him. Oddly though, when Danika gifts him a gemstone from her collection, he cannot bring himself to hate it, given each of her gems hold a special meaning for her. She wasn't giving him an expensive gift, but a piece of her heart in crystal form.

Danika hates dramatic displays of affection, such as exaggerated terms of affection or loud, uncomfortable dating scenes that seem more like a flex than an actual date itself. Thank God, Leona is more of a 'walk in the gardens' or 'quality time at home' kind of guy. She knows she lucked out with him, and enjoys every moment she spends in his arms, asleep.

Aaravos x Nymera

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

Aaravos enjoys simply spending time with his partner, be it in public or in private, he just adores being in their presence. He also has an almost desperate desire to be in their arms, given he was trapped in a pearl for three centuries. Nymera is more than happy to accommodate him in both company and her arms.

Nymera is the same as Aaravos, though her's also stems a bit more towards words of gentle love as well. She has been alone for most of her life, and to hear that someone adores spending time with her, and then see it in action makes her feel like she finally found her true home. Aaravos is more than willing to share his feelings for her, whether from across the room or in her arms. Plus she loves his voice and turns a cute shade of pink whenever he compliments her, so it's a win-win!

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

Aaravos hates false promises and affections. A person he cared for as a student once tricked him by pretending to be his friend, which lead to his imprisonment. After such a harrowing time spent seething behind glass, he just wants to know that he can trust his partner. Nymera is unable to hide her true emotions, and a terrible liar, so he knows each and every one of her affections are genuine, and he loves her all the more for it.

Nymera also shares this with Aaravos. Though she has to admit, she's never experienced it. Thankfully everyone she met openly hated her, so she never had to worry about if they were being genuine or not. Aaravos may have started out by manipulating her, but seeing his soft smile whenever he thinks she doesn't notice, lets her know just how genuine his feelings are now, and she knows she loves him just as much.

Vax'ildan x Kadorya

03: Romantic Gestures They Love

EVERYTHING, Vax is a wholesome bean who is simply happy being in his partner's presence. Do they want a hug? Done! Do they want to sit in silence for a while? He's there, holding their hand and relaxing in peaceful serenity. Ryah knows he's utterly smitten when no matter what she suggests they do, he's down to try it! (Poor man would walk into a horror attraction to see her smile, and will regret it later, at least until Ryah rests his head in her lap and strokes his hair, then it was worth it.)

Ryah adores quality time with her lover and physical affection over everything else. She tends to bake a lot, so having a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and simply exist within her space makes her heart swell with love. Vax has startled her a few times with this, but the smile she gives him as she's playfully scolding him assures him that if he were to stop, she'd be upset about it.

04: Romantic Gestures They Hate

I know this is probably obvious, but he can't stand fake relationships and affections. He adores his partner, through and through, so if he were to find out they never truly felt the same, it would shatter his heart completely. While Ryah made him believe she didn't feel the same at first, he was relieved to know she was simply trying to spare him the pain of her inevitable death, it took some time for him to convince her that he would take every second he could with her, over never loving her in the first place. Now, she cannot express in words just how much she adores him.

Ryah hates extravagant gifts, she carries what she needs for her travels and that's it. While she will enjoy the occasional gift, no matter the price, if someone shoved an expensive gift in her face again and again, she would quickly grow uncomfortable. Vax may get her a surprise gift or two while they're travelling, but he knows her by now and is more than content giving her a rare ingredient for her baking, or a simple wildflower he found that would look amazing in her hair.

There we are, that's all of them! I hope none of these are OOC, and I apologize that most of them are similar to the others, but I genuinely can't imagine anything else for them. Maybe I'm tired, or maybe I'm firm on the kind of relationships they have, who knows?

If you guys think they'd act differently with a partner, let me know, I'd love to hear how they'd act with you or an OC of yours!

Lovey Dovey OC Development Prompts

Here’s a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ for you all on this corporate holiday! You can fill this out on your own, or you can ask your followers to send you numbers! (Oh, and remember that the real holiday is tomorrow, when all the holiday candy is discounted.) Have fun!

♥ (01) Is your OC in love? If so, with whom, and for how long? ♥ (02) Does another OC love your OC? If so, whom, and does your OC know? ♥ (03) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC loves? ♥ (04) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC hates? ♥ (05) What is the most romantic thing your OC has done for someone else? ♥ (06) What is the most romantic thing that has been done for your OC? ♥ (07) How successful is your OC at flirting with others? ♥ (08) What is your OC’s dream marriage proposal? ♥ (09) What is your OC’s favorite small way to show their love? ♥ (10) What is your OC’s favorite big way to show their love? ♥ (11) What do others love most about your OC? ♥ (12) What do you love most about your OC? ♥ (13) How does your OC show their love to those that are not their partner(s)? ♥ (14) Does your OC have any romantic traditions? ♥ (15) What is your OC’s favorite type of Valentine’s Day candy? ♥ (16) What is your OC’s ideal first date? ♥ (17) Could your OC fall in love with someone they’ve never met in person? ♥ (18) Does your OC have a “type”? ♥ (19) How highly does your OC value love (platonic, romantic, or otherwise)? ♥ (20) How does your OC feel about public displays of affection? ♥ (21) Does your OC believe in love at first sight? ♥ (22) How often does your OC read romantic literature? ♥ (23) What is your OC’s favorite nice thing to do for themselves? ♥ (24) How does your OC determine that they’re attracted to someone? ♥ (25) Does your OC believe in soulmates? ♥ (26) Is your OC ever the first to say “I love you”? ♥ (27) How does your OC typically spend their Valentine’s Day? ♥ (28) What is something unconventional that your OC thinks is romantic? ♥ (29) What is your OC’s favorite love song? ♥ (30) What is your OC’s favorite romantic movie?

[princesseilish]

NOBODY GETS ME

Paige bueckers x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, breakup aftermath, unresolved feelings, social media speculation, slow burn.

Synopsis: heavily based of “Nobody gets me” by SZA, because we love her, i know i do

Paige wasn’t sure why she even still checked. Muscle memory, probably.

She’d deleted every trace of Y/n from her social media. Unfollowed, untagged, erased. That should’ve been enough. That should’ve been closure. But somehow, against all logic, her thumb still hovered over Y/n’s name when she searched it up, heart sinking at the absence of the “Follow” button.

Gone.

That was the point.

And yet, no matter how many times she told herself she was over it, over her, the world wasn’t done shoving reminders in her face.

Y/n had been on tour for three weeks now. A massive success, sold-out venues, screaming fans—everywhere Paige turned, there was another clip, another article, another moment she tried to ignore.

But nothing hit harder than the song.

Nobody Gets Me.

The first time she heard about it, Azzi was the one who showed her. Of course it was Azzi.

They were in the locker room after practice, cooling down from a brutal session, when her best friend plopped down beside her, phone already in hand.

“Dude,” Azzi started, like she was trying to keep her voice casual, but Paige knew better. “You seen this yet?”

Paige barely spared the screen a glance. “Don’t care.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Azzi pressed play before she could stop it, and suddenly, Y/n’s voice filled the space between them.

“i don’t want to see you with anyone but me,”

Paige’s stomach twisted.

The video showed Y/n standing center stage, bathed in soft lighting, her fingers wrapped around a microphone. She looked different—hollow in a way that wasn’t just the stage design. Her eyes were closed, brows furrowed like the words physically hurt coming out.

“Nobody gets me like you”

Paige inhaled sharply, forcing herself to look away, but it was too late. The damage was done.

The crowd in the video sang the words back to her ex, voices full of emotion, but all Paige could focus on was the way Y/n’s voice cracked on the final chorus. The way she turned away from the mic for half a second, as if she was breaking right there in front of them all.

Azzi’s phone screen dimmed, but the silence between them stretched.

Paige clenched her jaw, shoving her water bottle back into her bag. “It’s just a song.”

Azzi hummed. “Sure.”

Paige tried not to think about it. Really, she did.

But it was impossible when the whole world seemed obsessed with connecting the dots for her.

“Y/n’s new song… definitely about her ex. But WHO??”

“Okay but be fr, Nobody Gets Me SCREAMS Paige Bueckers.”

“They were together for YEARS and just broke up. This song HURTS.”

Paige could ignore Twitter. She could ignore the fan edits, the TikToks, the thousands of comments dissecting every lyric.

But she couldn’t ignore the way it made her feel.

Because if she was being honest—painfully, brutally honest—Y/n was right.

Nobody did get her like Y/n.

Nobody understood the pressure she carried, the way basketball wasn’t just a game to her—it was everything. Nobody had been there from the start, back when she was just a kid with big dreams and shaky hands.

Nobody knew what it was like to fall asleep tangled together in the middle of winter, or to sit in the nosebleeds of an empty arena after a loss because Paige didn’t want to go home yet.

Nobody knew how Y/n used to trace circles on the inside of her wrist when she was anxious.

Nobody knew that Paige still reached for a body that wasn’t there when she woke up in the middle of the night.

So yeah.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly who the song was about.

And that was the problem.

Y/n knew what she was doing.

She knew from the moment she stepped onto that stage, from the second she let the first note slip past her lips.

She knew when she whispered, “This one’s personal,” into the mic before the first verse.

She knew.

And so did Paige.

That was the point.

Paige sat on her couch, wrapped in the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through her cracked blinds. The city outside felt like a constant hum, a reminder that nothing ever stopped, even though it felt like her whole world had.

She hadn’t expected this. Not today. But the number flashing on her screen was all too familiar.

3 AM.

Y/n.

She wasn’t sure why it had taken so long for the message to come through. So much time had passed since their breakup, and now here Y/n was again, calling her at an ungodly hour like it was the only time they could have a conversation that wasn’t filled with too many memories.

Her thumb hovered over the green button for a long moment, thoughts swirling in her head. She should ignore it. She shouldn’t even think about picking up. The last thing she needed was another conversation full of words they couldn’t take back. But that was always the thing about Y/n, wasn’t it? Even when she shouldn’t, even when it hurt, Paige still wanted to hear her voice.

She pressed the button.

“Hello?” Paige’s voice was hoarse, thicker than she meant it to be. She felt the weight of the past couple of months sitting on her chest.

“Paige…” The sound of Y/n’s voice, soft and unsure, made the space between them feel endless. “I—uh, I didn’t know who else to call.”

That was nothing new. Y/n had always been the one who knew exactly how to find Paige when she was at her lowest, when things felt unfixable.

But this wasn’t the same.

“I’m not… I’m not sure what you want from me,” Paige replied, not angry, just tired. “I thought we agreed this was it.”

“Yeah. I know,” Y/n whispered. “But this song—”

Paige clenched her jaw. She already knew where this was going. The song. Nobody Gets Me. The one that had followed her through every city on tour, through every game, through every article written about her and Y/n.

“You don’t get to play that card now,” Paige bit out, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She regretted the words the moment they left her lips, but it didn’t change how she felt. “You can’t just come back into my life whenever you want because you wrote a song about me. You left.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Paige could hear Y/n breathing, slow and measured. “I didn’t mean to leave you,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Paige muttered. “But you still did.”

The silence between them felt like a void, a space neither of them knew how to fill anymore.

“I’ve been reading what people are saying…” Y/n started, hesitating, as if she didn’t want to continue. “They know it’s about you.”

“Great,” Paige said flatly. “Everyone’s got something to say about it, huh?”

Y/n laughed, but it was soft, almost bitter. “I don’t care about what they think, Pa—I mean, Paige.” She stumbled over her words like it hurt. “I didn’t do it for them. I did it for you. I don’t know how else to say this, but… I’m sorry for how everything ended. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

Paige closed her eyes, the exhaustion of everything weighing her down. “I don’t know either,” she whispered. “I don’t even know if I want it fixed.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want to be the one to walk away, but I couldn’t stay either. I couldn’t be what you needed anymore.”

Paige could feel the tension in her chest tighten. So this is what it was, then. This is how they would end. With nothing left but the words that were said too late.

“You were always what I needed,” Paige said softly, before she even realized she had said it aloud. She cleared her throat. “It’s just not the same anymore.”

Y/n didn’t respond at first, and the silence felt heavy. She could hear the faint hum of a car passing outside, the far-off sounds of the city that never truly slept.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Y/n finally said. “But I couldn’t stay in something that was breaking me, too.”

Paige swallowed, the lump in her throat thick. “You should’ve told me that. I would’ve understood. But you didn’t. You just… disappeared. And now I’m left here, not knowing what happened. Not knowing where we went wrong.”

The honesty in Y/n’s voice hit like a punch to the gut. “I didn’t know how to say it.”

And just like that, the door they had slammed shut months ago creaked open again, just a little.

“I don’t want this to be over,” Y/n continued, and it was like the words were a plea. “I don’t want it to feel like… like we’re strangers.”

The vulnerability in her voice cracked through the anger and the hurt, and for the first time in a long time, Paige wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.

She didn’t know if she could go back, if they could really make it work. But hearing Y/n’s voice, hearing the pain, the regret, made her feel like there was a possibility that maybe they could find their way through this mess, no matter how long it took.

“I don’t know how to start over with you, Y/n,” Paige said softly. “But I guess… I guess I don’t want to lose you either.”

Another long silence stretched between them. Neither of them knew what came next.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Y/n whispered, her voice thick, breaking just slightly as if she was trying to hold back the tears she couldn’t let fall.

And with that, the line went quiet.

Paige stared at her phone in the dark, her heart pounding in her chest.

They were far from any kind of resolution, but for the first time in months, she wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.

[yourmomsfavouritegirl]

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings; smut, pure filth, strap, subpaige, domreader,

A/N; our valentine's day special is here!! A bit late...but here! It is a bit long because i am late so i figured you might want a long ass chapter. I hope y'all enjoy this and if you want anything different requests are open!!

Reader's pov

I was walking around in the mall trying to find my last present for Paige since today is valentine's day. I already have bought many stuff to decorate our dorm before she gets home from the team hangout. We have been dating for two years now and honestly they are probably the best years of my life. I finally made my way to the shop i was looking for the past hour and went inside. Me and Paige had...quite an interesting sex life and we may or may not have talked about upgrading things a little. Spice them up. I made my way around the store searching for the toy she has been talking about nonstop and once i found it even though it was in a pretty big size i took it and made my way to the cashier. I had no problem with paying it myself i am not a shy person.

Once my job here was done i quickly left seeing i had one hour left before paige returned. I opened the door and entered the dorm before getting right to work. I placed the roses allover the living room and bedroom and made sure the food was practically ready for when paige got here.

I placed the box with the toy in the bedroom and changed into a long black dress that hugged my curves perfectly. It was a new dress and i had bought it a few days ago just for this day along with the black lingerie i wore underneath. I smiled to myself already knowing that paige loved to see me in black.

I sprayed some of Paige's favourite perfumes before i went back to the living room getting two glasses of wine set on table and sat there waiting for her scrolling through my Instagram feed. A couple of minutes pass by when i heard her keys jingle before the door opened revealing a Paige who had a white pair of pants and button up shirt with a black blazer.

Her eyes wandered around looking at the atmosphere i had created making a smile appear on her face before her eyes landed on mine. She studied me closely as she pushed the door to close behind her not daring to look away. She looked at me from head to toe as her eyes darkened. "Happy valentine's day baby" i said sweetly before standing up and making my way towards her. "Happy valentine's day beautiful" she replied bringing her other hand in front of me handing me a big bouquet of orchids. I gasped at her gesture before pressing my lips against hers softly before saying 'thank you' in the crook of her neck.

"Wait for me here. I'll go put this in water and I'll be back" i said and she nodded making her way to the couch. Once i had the roses settled i returned to the living room staying just a bit behind to look at her reaction. She was studying the room with a huge grin on her face.

"You like the atmosphere baby?" I asked as i walked in making her jump a bit drom her surprise. We both laughed at her reaction before ahe extended her hands to rake a hold of me. "I love it. I love you" she whispered before pulling me in for a soft kiss. "I love you too baby" i breathed before kissing her once again.

Although the soft kiss turned into a deeper one. I circled my hands around her neck before pushing my tongue deeper trying to taste her better. She let out a soft groan before we pulled away dor air. We sat down and i gave her the glass of wine. We both smiled at eachother and took a sip before placing them back on the table.

Her hands were back on my hips as she studied my appearance. "You look beautiful" she muttered her eyes getting lost in mine. "And you haven't seen nothing yet baby" i whispered back at her making her blush. I placed my hand on her cheek caressing it softly before i kissed her again. Only now both mine and Paige's hunger for one another was much deeper. Much stronger than what we cared to admit.

She slowly guided my hips on top of her lap before i was completely on top of her. My dress riding up a bit revealing much more surface of my thighs. Paige's hand held onto my thigh tightly as i bit her lip pulling it back with me. A soft moan escaped from her lips turning me on even more.

I pulled away slightly studying her features biting my lip at the thoughts of what would happen in a bit. "Don't stop. Please just do something. Please" she whined breathlessly. A smile tugged at my lips as my palm circled her throat. I always loved how submissive she would get for me. Adorable.

I pushed her back before i got up slowly heading to our bedroom. Midway i stopped and turned around seeing she hadn't gotten up yet. "Come on baby. Be a good girl and follow me". She didn't need to be told twice. She shot up and with a couple of long strides she had come up behind me. I giggled as i felt her hands cup my ass before i grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and made her follow me further. I sat her down on the bed and straddled her before slowly lifted up her shirt tossing it somewhere in the room. A gasp left my mouth at the sight of her breathtaking body. I leaned down and peppered kisses allover her leaving her a whiny mess. I got back up to her lips kissing her deeply making her moan at the kiss. Her hands made their way on my ass tightening their grip on it making me yelp a bit. I sat back up and turned so she would face my back. "Help me with this" i said knowing that she would do as I said. And i was right. She sat up and slowly undid my dress helping me slip off of it. She threw it somewhere else while her eyes were devouring me whole. A smirk stayed on my lips as i saw her looking at the lingerie. "I love you in black. You know i do" she muttered standing up now towering over me. "I have one more present for you. And it is in the bathroom. I'm sure you'll love it" i whispered in her ear before i laid on the bed steadying myself on my elbows.

"You did not.." i heard her say from the bathroom making a smile come to my face. She run out shocked looking at me and the toy. "You want me ..to use this?" She asked and i nodded biting my lip. Her eyes darkened even more if that was possible. She slowly put it on after she discarded her clothes. She bit her lip as her hands roamed throughout my body studying every curve and every muscle. I straddled her as she attacked my neck leaving bites and kisses everywhere. "Oh fuck baby" i breathed as she placed her fingers at my entrance. A smirk was placed on her face not daring to come off. She slowly inserted them inside me making me go feral "OH mh fuck-" i whimpered as she slowly pumped them inside me creating a chaos inside me.

"Yes baby just like that. So good for me" i praised Paige as my hand cupped her cheek while knowing damn well what my complements did to her. She looked at me pleading to go faster. With a quick nod she started going faster and faster not letting me take a breath. "Oh yes. Yesyesyes fuck Paige" i moaned out feeling my high coms closer and closer. "Cum for me ma" she husked and needless to say that i didn't need anything else. I felt the string tightening in my stomach finally snap making me see stars. "Oh yes Paige. I'm cumming fuck". A bunch of moans left my lungs trying to make me come down to the face of earth after my first orgasm of the night.

As she slowly pulled them out of me she brought them up to my lips making me suck my cum off of her fingers. I kept eye contact as i licked them off of her letting out a moan at the taste. I slowly turned us around making her lay down. "Sit down baby. Let mommy do the work" i said and straddled her. She bit her lip at how i sat on her stomach. A shaky breath left my lings as i felt the clear ups and downs of her abs. "So fucking pretty all for me hm?" I asked her to which she nodded rapidly. I chuckled at her reaction before i lined up my hole with the toy that was fixated on her waist. "Are you ready baby?" She asked looking as impatient as ever. I nodded as she slipped the toy slowly inside me. My mouth hung open as a loud moan left my lips. "Oh my- Fuck" i groaned as i felt the vibrator at the other side of the strap. Paige placed her hands on my hips slowly making me grind against her. I started going up and down on her as my hands circled her neck for stability as I kissed her passionately.

My eagerness to reach my high got the best of me making me move faster and faster. "Oh yes fuck. So tight for me mommy" Paige moaned in the crook of my neck. I was too stunned to speak so i just took a hold of her face before i smashed my lips against hers. Moans and groans could be heard as we kissed. Only the sounds paige let out made me hornier by the second. I could feel by the impatience of her moves that she was getting closer to reaching her orgasm and so was i.

I pulled away gasping for air as breathy moans left my lips. "I'm so so close baby. Fucking me so good" i whine and almost immediately her movements sped up. Doubling her efforts. "Fuck me too. I'm gonna cum mommy. Please let me cum with you" she pleaded her voice raspy. How could i say no to her?

"Cum with me baby. Let go for me" i breathed and after i said it i felt my whole world crush upon me. "Oh my GOD" I screamed at the top of my lungs closing my eyes not being able to concentrate in anything else other than my orgasm. Paige followed suit letting out the cuntiest moans i have ever heard. My movements started to slow down before we finally stopped trying to regain our breath. Paige's lips left tons of kisses allover my neck and breasts as her quick breath hit my skin sending goosebumps allover my body.

I made her look up at me and felt a lazy and tired smile come up to my face looking at how cute and tired she looked like. "You good baby?" I asked softly caressing her cheek. She smiled at me before giving me a quick peck on the lips. "I'm feeling a lot more than just okay. This was the best present ever" she said making a blush come up to my cheeks. "Well I'm glad. I knew you would love this" i replied motioning to the toy that was still inside me.

She slowly made me sit up sliding the toy out of me and placing it on the bathroom telling me she would clean it later. She came back and held me on top of her. Paige always loved skin to skin contact. "You hungry?" I asked hearing her stomach growl basically. She laughed before nodding. "Great cause i had prepared us a really nice and romantic dinner for before this act but someone got carried away.." i said side eyeing her making her laugh. "I mean come on! Can you blame me? You looked-and still do- like a literal goddess" she said making me laugh and burry my head in the crook of her neck. "Okay superstar let's get you to eat. Them muscles ain't gonna stay strong if I don't feed you" i said slowly getting up still feeling a little weak in the legs.

We got changed into comfortable clothes and made our way to the kitchen. We sat down and ate dinner holding each others hands from time to time. Stealing soft kisses from one another. It was perfect. She is perfect. I can't imagine my life without her.

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Under A Full Moon•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 3.8K

Synopsis: Sevika sees you once at Babette's before deciding you're her favorite girl; and luckily for you, she's your favorite client. Thus blossoms an unspoken exclusivity between the two of you... or so you think, until one night, you happen upon her in between your coworker's legs. You're left blindsighted, hurt, and just plain jealous; and worst of all... you know it's unfairly so.

Continuation of Service Top! Sevika x Brothel Worker! Reader drabble

Content/Warnings: nsfw, service top! sev, brother worker! reader, bottom! reader, fem reader, reader has female anatomy, romantic smut, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), useless pining lesbians, angst w/ a happy ending, L-word drop (love not lesbian you silly!) sev def has an abandonment wound poor bby

A/N: SERVICE TOP! SEV x BROTHEL READER UNIVERSE EXPANDS! thank you so much to this anon for the incredible idea; this is the longest piece I've written, so i apologize that it's taken so long; but here we are, many a late night later! i hope i did the concept justice; this piece was honestly a bit challenging because of it's length and because i had so much fun fleshing out the idea and had to reign myself in a few times, but i really enjoyed the process and hope you all will enjoy the product!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

Today had been awful.

Unequivocally, comically awful. So much so, that Sevika finds herself standing outside of Babette’s, looking up at the silver moon, and wondering if its fullness has anything to do with just how bad her day had been; and she’s never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

It had been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong- her mech arm had been short-circuiting all day, Silco was in a particularly pissy mood after a failed deal, and her team had fumbled a mission because some show-off new hire couldn't be patient- so she could only assume that today’s fury-inducing events were celestially predisposed. 

Actually, scratch that; she couldn't give two fucks about why her day been so shitty. All she knew is that it had, and she was exhausted, and she only wanted one thing right now:

You.

Of course, she wouldn't admit this, but the thought of your pretty eyes lighting up as she walked into your room, your sexy grin stretching across your face as you beckoned her over, your body underneath her as she coaxed you over the edge for the second, third, fourth time; these images had been the only thing holding her together today. 

Sevika knew better. Knew she had no business getting this attached to someone who was simply providing a service; and she'd scold herself for it later, but right now- as she opened the doors to Babette’s and made her way down the hall- she just wanted to see you. 

So, when she pushes the beaded curtain out of the way to see that you're not there, she hopes to the gods you're just on a break.

“Looking for Y/n?” 

Celeste, a coworker of yours, had found herself immensely displeased that you were hogging her favorite customer. Of course, she had failed to consider that clients choose their servicer and not the other way around, but she refused to believe that Sevika may not have been as interested in her as she was in Sevika. 

“Yeah,” Sevika gruffs, “I am.”

“Aw, that's too bad,” the raven-haired girl responds with a pout, “she just left for the day. Said she wasn't feeling well.”

Sevika would be unfathomably annoyed by this cherry on top of her already wonderful day if she weren't, first and foremost, worried.

“Not feeling well? How so?”

Celeste found herself becoming increasingly annoyed by Sevika’s show of concern for you. “She didn't say,” she begins impatiently, “but…” and then, she's trailing a finger down Sevika’s mech arm (Sevika didn't like anyone touching her mech arm but you) “I’d be more than happy to take care of you tonight.” 

Sevika had two options. She could go home and wallow in the frustration caused by the day’s events, or she could suck it up, settle for Celeste’s company, and at least end the night with some release. After all, it’s not like the two of you were exclusive, she thought; there was no reason why Celeste shouldn’t do, right? 

Right?

“After you,” Sevika huffed, trying her best to ignore how wrong it felt to follow anyone else to their room; and for the rest of the night, she’s trying her best to ignore how wrong the smell of Celeste’s perfume is, how wrong the taste of her skin is, how wrong her moans and mewls sounded bouncing against the walls…

And when you come out of the breakroom, you can feel your freshly blushed cheeks heat up in anger when you walk past Celeste’s room to see Sevika in between her legs. You only stand in front of the lace curtain for a second before you’re storming back to your room, and for the rest of the night, you’re trying to ignore how pissed you are. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“I feel so pathetic,” you whine, “I mean, why do I even care? It’s not like we’re together.”

It’d been a week since you saw Sevika with Celeste, and you were sitting in your favorite booth at The Last Drop, hoping that the giant margarita sitting in front of you and your best friend would aid in taking your mind off of it all.

They were no stranger to the situation unfolding between you and Sevika, and at this point, they were downright sick of watching you pretend your relationship with her hadn’t long exceeded client and servicer. 

“Do I seriously need to answer that question, Y/n?” They tease.

“You know, I’d actually prefer if you didn’t” you sigh, before taking a sip of the lime green drink in front of you.

“Right… because you already know the answer.”

They were right. You did already know the answer, but you weren’t ready to admit that the feelings you had for Sevika were very real, and only getting stronger. 

“Well, clearly, she doesn’t feel the same way about me,” you spit. An angry heat flushes your face as the image of Sevika and Celeste floods your memory.

Your best friend looks down at you with a soft, knowing smile. “You know, there’s no way of knowing how she feels unless you ask.”

You lean back with a huff, letting your head hit the back of the wooden booth with a soft thud.

“I can’t do that; and either way, that would be completely unprofessional… or, at the very least, completely humiliating.”

“Oh my God, Y/n, you’re impossible. All this yearning…”

They slide the glass over and away from your reach, taking a giant sip of their own.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, unable to deny the claim, but grateful nonetheless for the humorous distraction from the situation(ship) at hand. 

That is, until the situation walks through The Last Drop’s double doors; and just like it had when you walked past Celeste’s room a week ago, your heart drops. 

“Perfect,” you seethe, watching Sevika make her way to the bar. “I’m gonna head out, okay? Drink’s on me.”

“Fine by me,” your friend quickly surrenders, coaxing one last chuckle from you as you stand, “but hey, seriously, it’ll all work out. I’m here for you too, yeah?” 

You give them a small smile. “Of course. See ya,” you call out before heading to the bar yourself, hoping to Janna that Sevika will stay where she was on the opposite end while you close out the tab; and as you’re sliding coins to the bartender and turning on your heel to leave, you think you’ve successfully managed to avoid her, until,

The hand on your back is large, warm, gentle. You hate that you immediately recognize who it belongs to. 

“Y/n?” 

You turn around, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Sevika.”

Her eyes are scanning your face, then your body; she looks relieved to see you. You hate that, too. 

You just wanted to be pissed at her, avoid her at all costs, and ignore how you really felt about her for as long as possible. Why did she have to make that so hard?

“How are you-”

You interrupt her before she has the chance to make any of those things any harder. “I was just leaving. I’ll see you around, okay?” 

More than anything else, you hate how her face falls when you pull away, making a B-line for the exit. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

For the past three weeks, you had taken to avoiding Sevika like the plague. You figured that after enough time, your feelings for her would inevitably fade, and you could go on about your life as usual. 

Spoiler alert: they would not. In fact, she was on your mind now more than ever; and frankly, it was pissing you off. 

You knew Sevika wasn’t yours. What you had with her was nothing more than business. You had no right to be angry with her for spending her time and her money on a night with someone else. 

That pissed you off even more. 

You sat at a vanity in the breakroom you had quickly dipped into when you caught sight of Sevika walking through the doors of Babette’s. 

“Gods, she comes in, like, every day now,” you complain to the worker seated to your right; the both of you powdering your faces. 

“You know, I’ve actually noticed she’s barely ever here anymore,” they begin. “She used to be here almost every night to see you.” 

They don’t know they’ve struck a nerve; which is why you feel a little bad when you suddenly slam your powder down, their eyes wide and confused as they watch you storm back to your room. 

You shove your way through the beaded curtain, eyes closed and jaw clenched as you try your best to collect yourself. You stand in front of the doorway, taking slow, deep breaths:

In, and out, in, and-

Why does it smell like cigarette smoke in here?

Just as quickly as you register the smell of Sevika’s cigarettes, your eyes fly open.

Here she was, in all her glory, sitting on the velvet couch in front of you. 

You had almost forgotten how pretty she was underneath the warm, soft light of the ornate lamps littering your room. You wanted so badly to crawl onto your place in her lap, to run your fingers through her raven hair, to trace the scars on her face- 

Gods, you hated what she did to you, and you hated that you just couldn’t get over it.

“The fuck are you doing?” You spit, heart already speeding up.

She chuckles through her nose, putting out her cigarette on an ashtray before standing to meet you. 

The amusement on her face drops, her jaw set, eyes boring into you; and for a split second, you’re almost scared. 

Almost; because, despite her intimidating reputation proceeding her, you were privy to a gentleness that no one else saw. 

“Here to ask you the same thing.” she spits. “Fuck have you been dodging me for?”

You knew Sevika. You knew her well; well enough to know that she was far too observant not to notice you avoiding her like the plague. 

“What are you talking-” “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Unfortunately, your plans to ice her out hadn’t accounted for the fact that Sevika simply was not going to let you get away with this.

“Answer me,” she continues, nostrils flaring. 

You nearly break under her gaze, but Sevika knows you well enough to know that you’re nearly as stubborn as she is. 

So when you bite back with a, 

“Why do you even care?”

All she can do is let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Can you be fucking serious? Why do I care? As if I wasn’t showing up here damn near every night to see you-”

“Exactly!” You snap, eyes blowing wide. “Exactly Sevika; why bother showing up nearly every night for six months, refusing to see any other girl, making me feel like I was… I was special, just for you to turn around and fuck Celeste because I wasn’t primed and goddamned ready for you as soon as you walked through the door?”

A pregnant pause fills the room, tension thick in the air. 

Your wild eyes scan the expression on her face. She looks… confused; her own icy greys darting from side to side like she’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together.

You’re trying to figure out what’s so confusing.

“Don’t act surprised,” you begin, rolling your eyes. “Was this not the plan? Convince me we had something so you’d get special treatment?”

“Sweetheart, slow down-”

“Don’t call me that! What is your prob-”

“Y/n!” 

The sound of your name on her lips had only ever been sweet; gentle. 

Loving.

Hearing her say it so scoldingly makes your throat tighten.

You feel like a kicked puppy; and you must look like one, too, because she’s quick to take a breath, dropping her shoulders and relaxing the furrow of her brow. 

“Just… hold on a second, okay?”

You take a deep breath of your own before giving her a small nod. She rubs her temples, seemingly still puzzled, before she finally asks,

“What do you mean you saw me with Celeste?”

And now, you’re just as confused. 

“Um… I mean I walked out of the breakroom to see your face buried between her thighs. What else could I mean?”

Her narrowed eyes zero in on you as the pieces finally come together; and as soon as they do, all she can do is laugh, because her only other option is to walk over to Celeste’s room and let her have it here and now. 

“That bitch.”

“Who, Celeste?” you inquire, “I mean, yeah; she is a bitch. What does that have to do with this?”

Sevika lets out an exasperated sigh, stepping closer to you.

“The only reason I was with Celeste that night is because she told me you were gone.”

Your stomach drops, jaw dropping with it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you breathe out.

“Wish I was. She told me you weren’t feeling well. Could barely focus that night because I was worried sick about you; been worried sick about you since, and if you had just talked to me, you would’ve known that.”

You’re flooded with so many thoughts- so many feelings- that you feel dizzy. This had really all just been a giant misunderstanding? Celeste had really lied like that? 

Sevika had really been worried about you all this time?

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. As angry as you were at Celeste, and as much as you wanted to blame all of this on her own jealousy, you knew that only yours was to blame for the month that had gone by since you’d given Sevika the time of day.

“I.. I’m sorry, Sev.” you mutter, hands wringing in front of you. “Didn’t think you’d be worried.”

“How could you not-”

She stops herself, running a hand through her hair as she turns away from you. 

The whir of her arm is the only sound filling the silence in the room, and you can tell by the tension in her shoulders that her thoughts are likely whirring just as fast.

For the the first time in a month, you reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the tight muscle; just like you would when she’d come to see you after a hard day. 

That’s all she had wanted a month ago; your gentle hands beckoning her shoulders to relax, your sweet voice beckoning her to talk, your soothing presence beckoning her to rest.

How could you not know that you had unwittingly made yourself her center of gravity?

Your hand stays planted where it’s at, but you don’t speak. You can tell by the way her eyes are nearly burning a hole into the spot on the floor she’s chosen to focus on that she’s got something else to say, and just needs a moment to figure out how to say it. 

So you wait; the soothing movements of your thumb saying, “I’m sorry; I’m here,” and the way she leans into your touch saying, “It’s okay. I missed you.”

“I know I’m not… good at this stuff,” 

You smile softly, tucking a stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear.

“So I can’t blame you for not knowing how I feel, but I… you…”

She huffs, and you can tell she’s getting frustrated.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “Take your time.”

She turns to slump down onto the arm of the wingbacked chair by your door. You slot yourself in between her legs, hands coming to rest on either side of her face; fingers mindlessly tracing shimmering lines of blue. 

“I don’t let anyone else touch those, you know?” 

 Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. 

“You don’t?” 

“No. I don’t. Only you.”

Another pause settles between the two of you, but for the first time since this conversation began, it’s comfortable. Peaceful. Familiar.

“Wasn’t my plan to fall for ya,” she finally admits, “and when I realized I had, I wasn’t really sure what to do with that… but I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I was messing with your head and all.”

“It isn’t your fault, Sev,” you sigh. “Should have talked to you sooner. I was just… scared.”

“Of what?” She asks, looking up at you. “Of me?”

Damn her and those puppy dog eyes.

“No, not at all,” you quickly reassure. “Never of you. Was just scared to face the possibility that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you. Didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, you know?”

She lets out an incredulous chuckle; like there isn’t a world in which she doesn’t have feelings for you.

“Well… you’ve certainly made a fool of yourself now, doll.”

“Hey!” You scold, stepping back to cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I’m just saying,” she says with a cocky smirk, “this could’ve all ended a month ago if you had just-”

“Okay, okay!” The wide smile on your face betrays the annoyance you’re trying to feign. Truth be told, you were too relieved by the appearance of her humorous side to pretend that you were mad. “I get it,” you continue, “I said I was sorry!”

“‘S alright, baby,” she shrugs, standing up to meet you; and when she steps forward to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you can’t help but melt into the warmth you’d missed so much.

“Jus’ means we’ve got lost time to make up for.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re two orgasms in when Babette comes knocking on your room’s doorframe.

Your head whips around to give her a wide-eyed stare from your place on Sevika’s lap- and on two of her fingers- chest heaving and lips swollen from the kiss you’d just pulled away from.

“The fuck? We’re busy here,” Sevika grumbles, hand waving to gesture towards the rather intimate position the two of you were in.

“Sorry ladies,” Babette sighs, “You know we close early on Sundays. Glad to see that you two are back at it, though;” and with that, she makes her way back to her office.

Still in shock, you turn back to Sevika; who seems entirely unphased by the interruption. 

“My place?” She shrugs; and you can’t help but burst out into laughter, leaning in for a kiss that’s all smiles. 

“Not gonna take me out to dinner first?” You tease, cocking a brow at her. 

Whatever cockiness you were attempting to exude quickly fails when her fingers curl up into you just right, and you gasp, hips twitching on her lap.

She wraps her mech arm around your waist, sitting up to place a kiss on your temple before bringing her mouth to the shell of your ear.

“I’d say we’re past pleasantries, don't you think?” she croons. 

A shiver runs down your spine, head tilting back as she lowers her head to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck; and when her teeth bite down on your collarbone, all you can muster is,

“Your place.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

She’s got you laid out underneath her on soft sheets of maroon, legs thrown over her shoulders, hips snapping into you ruthlessly.

For what felt like hours, her mouth had been on you, languid and slow; and when her mouth wasn’t on you, she was leaving a mark somewhere on your skin as her fingers worked you open.

From the outside in, it may have seemed like she was teasing, and for a second, you thought that’s what she was doing. You couldn’t really blame her if she were; a little repayment for the silent treatment you’d given her. 

But you knew Sevika well; could read her movements and expressions like a book. She wasn’t teasing. 

She was drinking you in; your form under her hands, the taste of salt on your skin, your whimpers and whines floating through the air. She was committing this moment to memory like it might be the last time, and you realize, she’s scared you might leave again.

It isn’t until you place a hand on her cheek, coaxing her to look you in the eyes and telling her that you’re not going anywhere, that she’s finally pulled out of her trance, lining herself up between your legs with a crooked smile on her face. 

Now, her pace is quick, rough; but her gaze is so soft, eyes blown out with adoration.

Your own begin to flutter closed, rolling back into your head when she shifts just enough for her strap to plant kiss after kiss on the sweet spot of your velvet walls.

“Janna,” you pant, tears pricking your eyes, “Right there, Sev; please don’t stop.”

Who were you kidding? She wouldn’t dare.

Her thumb moves to wipe away the stray tear trailing towards your temple. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

When you open your eyes to look up at her, she’s looking back down at you like she’s in love with you.

“So pretty,” she mutters, her flesh hand warm on your cheek as her thumb traces your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “So, so pretty, baby; missed you so fucking much.”

You’re overwhelmed. By the way she talks so sweet to you, by the way she fucks so deep into you, by the third orgasm that threatens to break like a wave;

And when it does, the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

“Shit, ‘m cumming… just like that, Sev; fuck, I love you so much.”

Your eyes go wide like a deer in headlights when you register your own words; and when her hips stutter, you’re already preparing yourself to be met with a look that says, ‘are you crazy?’ … until, she lets out a groan of her own, not even bothering to pull out before she’s gone limp on top of you.

You’re still mortified, frozen underneath her, staring up at the ceiling. She must feel the racing of your heart, the shallowness of your breath, because she cranes her head up from its place nestled into you shoudler to speak into your ear.

“Calm down, baby. I love you, too.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The moon is full again tonight; a stream of its cool light spilling in through the crack in Sevika’s curtains. You’ve already succumbed to the heavy lull of sleep; of course, not before Sevika insists that you pee, have a snack, drink some water, and promise that you’ll be hers from now on.

She gets up to disarm the heavy metal attached to her shoulder- something she only does when she’s certain that she’s safe- and climbs back into bed, careful not to disturb you. You rustle anyway, rolling over to bury your head in her chest.

Sevika has never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

She cares even less now with the entire universe sound asleep against her. 

End ୨ৎ

[frannyzooey]

On The Green: 6

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (finally!)

A/N: This came pouring out of me and thank god for the lovely @the-scandalorian who responded to my frantic “can you read today” messages with the support and grace and filthy heart and mind she always does ❤️ thank you my lovely ❤️ enjoy!

—

He deepens the kiss immediately. 

Tongue sliding into your mouth, taking, taking, taking. 

He fists your hair in his grip, tugging on the strands with a low groan of hunger that slips from his throat and you lean into his strength, matching it with your own. Your mouths move against each other’s, your lips molding to his firmer ones, and he kisses you with experience, with greed, with desperation. His hold tightens on your hair and he eats at your mouth, as if he can barely control what he’s been trying to rein in. 

Your touch slides across his whiskered cheek and slips around the nape of his neck, your head tilting to the side with a soft, muffled moan and he tries to sit up, only to abruptly pull away with a hiss of pain. 

The sound breaks the spell, and worry floods your features. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he assures you, breathless. “Just got…carried away.”

His eyes are still on your mouth, even with his hand over the fresh wound concealed under his thermal. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, shifting to put some distance between your bodies. “I never should have – not when you’re like that. I –”

He cuts your rambling, cupping your cheek to keep you in place. 

“Shhh, Birdie. It’s okay.” A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. “I more than complied with your silent request. In fact,” he argues with a raise of his brow, “one could argue that I encouraged it.”

You match his small smile with a bashful one of your own. 

“Though it is true that I might not be in the best form to…reciprocate, the way I want.”

Hesitation flits across your face. “And do you? Want?”

His gaze darkens, a shadow of lust that seems to overtake the deep brown. “Very much so, Birdie. Very much.”

His admission must pool slick and warm in the cradle of your hips, given the way you press them together. He notices. He notices everything when it comes to you. You pluck your bottom lip with with your teeth, and he can see the clear need on your face - the one you’re also trying to rein in. He knows he’s too injured for it right now, but he can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when you let loose. When you act before thinking, when you take what you want. 

He’s weighing the decision of pushing through his pain to kiss you again when you lean back. 

With eyes on you, he watches as you crawl over and pluck your blanket from your cot, before crawling back over to his. He’s making room for you before you even reach him, a space you eagerly fill with your body. It’s a tight fit, and when you stretch out alongside him, your limbs naturally fold against his. He drapes his arm over your side, and you’re careful not to touch his wound. 

He thinks he wouldn’t care if you stuck your finger in it if it meant having you even closer. 

“Is this okay?” you ask, timid and soft. The warmth of your breath skims across his neck, and his eyes flutter shut. 

He hums. “More than.”

Rain starts to pelt the outside of the pod, a steady drum that fills the silence. He thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep when you speak again. 

“That was close today,” you murmur. “Too close.”

He says nothing for once, his hand sliding a soothing path up your spine. He maps the curve of it underneath his palm, tracing your vertebrae with his fingers. For all the nights he’s dreamed about touching you just like this, it feels better than he could have ever imagined. Even if his body is strung tight, wanting so much more. 

Your hand finds his thermal and twists the worn fabric, clutching it. “I thought maybe I was going to…” You stumble on your words, and he waits, listening to the tremble in your voice. “I thought that would be it. That I would be…alone.”

He knows he should say something in comfort, but the words don’t come. Instead, actions do: a weight in his chest struggling to break free, his hands itching with the need to touch your face. His arm tightens  its hold on you. 

“I couldn’t make it if I was alone, Ez. I wouldn’t – I’d never be able to –”

Your breathing starts to hitch, and he frowns as if in pain and cradles the crown of your head, pulling you close. 

“I need you.” Your words catch on a sob. 

It hurts, the sound. It rips him apart, fracturing his hard exterior, exposing the soft core. Soft, just for you. Only for you. 

You cry and your little body shakes with it, tears wetting the collar of his thermals, the delicate wings of your shoulder blades trembling. The high of adrenaline must be crashing within you, and he presses you tighter against him, petting your hair. 

“It’s okay, Birdie,” he soothes. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

–

After that, you fall into a deep sleep. 

Your body is boneless next to his, melting against him even more. The first time since he’s met you that he can’t sense any tension in your muscles, he takes the opportunity to close his eyes and revel in the feeling. 

It’s been so long since he’s touched anyone – even longer since he’s touched anyone like this. Your small hand has slipped beneath the back of his thermal, your face tucked into his neck and with a careful movement and a wince of pain, he shifts onto his side to see you better. 

The soft curve of your cheek in the dark, the flutter of your lashes as you dream. The slope of your nose, your lips parted only just with soft, steady breaths. He watches the thrum of your pulse beat in the dark, so delicate, your skin unblemished and soft. It calls for his mouth, but it calls deeper than that too. 

She’s mine. 

The sentiment had been ripped out of his body without him even knowing, every plunge of his blade meant to protect you. A rage like he’d never felt before had taken over when the man threatened to violate you, surprising even him in its ferocity. His bicep was still sore from exertion, and looking at you now, he wants to find ten more men and do the same. 

He wants to kill everyone on this planet just to keep you safe. Just to make sure you never feel that type of fear again. 

He guides your head back into the crook of his neck, your nose fitting just right in the well of his collarbone as if it was always meant to be there. 

A soft, sleepy sigh escapes you, and he closes his eyes. Tucking his chin against the crown of your hair, he presses you closer. 

–

You half expect him to wake you up with a kiss, and half not. You aren’t sure how this is supposed to go. 

He's still asleep when you wake up, so you slip out from beside him and take a shower. The warmth of his skin lingers in the small space, water sliding over your sore muscles. 

“I’m gonna fuck that girl raw. Right next to your dead fucking –”

The memory of yesterday twists your stomach, and you scrub harder at your skin, as if the action could remove the words from your mind. They make you feel filthy, but more than that, it’s the mental image of Ezra’s dead body that haunts you. He came out on top yesterday, but if he hadn’t? You feel the weight of a sob gathering at the base of your throat, and you hold your face under the stream of water, letting the sound push everything away. 

You don’t want to cry again. You had cried enough last night – cried in front of him, something you’d never done in front of anyone before, not even your father. Normally it wouldn’t be something you’d let anyone see, but last night…last night you couldn’t help it. The fear inside you had risen to a pitch and then crashed, too many feelings swirling within you: relief that he was alive, pride that he killed for you, shame following close on its heels. True, bone deep terror at the thought of almost dying, and later, the release of desire that had been bottled up for weeks. 

You needed to purge every one of those emotions, and tucked against his body, you felt safe enough for the first time to do it in the presence of another human being. He petted your hair and stroked your back, absorbing it all in an uncharacteristic silence aside from the gentle sounds he made with his mouth. You poured everything out and he caught it all, holding you close until you felt calm enough to stop. 

You had slept better than you had since you got here, and when you step out of the shower to find Ezra digging through the bin that held his clothing, you sense he feels the same. Certainly looks it, even for someone who had been stabbed the night before. 

“Good morning, Birdie,” he greets you, fishing through the med kit. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, feeling shy all of a sudden. Do you go over and kiss him? Do you talk to him like it never happened? The intimacy last night was so thick it was unbearable: all consuming, quiet and warm, safe from the light of day. A liminal space where the two of you let yourselves act on impulse. Did that still apply?

“I myself was going to take a shower. Did you leave any hot water for me?”

His casual words soothe your nerves. “Yea, there should be more than enough. I wasn’t in there for long.” 

He tosses fresh bandages on the cot next to him, and you see the old ones, crusted with blood, lying next to them. He stands, and the sharp inhale of pain that he lets out has you reaching for him, forgetting all the uncertainty about how you’re supposed to act this morning around him. 

“Are you okay? Did the bandage come off?”

“I took it off,” he says, and your eyes drop to the site of the wound, hidden under his shirt. His fingers lift the material, and you wince at the raw stitches. He drops the shirt, and moves closer. “I thought it would be best to clean it. Who knows where that blade has been.”

A new worry strikes: germs, the constant dust that covers everything on this godforsaken planet. 

As always, he is quick to reassure you. 

“Hey,” he says, using his knuckle to nudge your chin up until your eyes meet his. “You’re thinking about this too hard. You did a fine job stitching me up last night, and fine job cleaning everything before that. I just want to get all the grime off.” His thumb slides over your bottom lip, his eyes tracking its movement. 

The small touch is enough to swallow your worry whole, replacing it with anticipation. He’s giving you the green light, and resting your hands on his hips, you brace yourself against the light-headedness that strikes when he starts to slide his touch down – down your chin, his hand curling around the side of your throat as his thumb traces the line of your jaw. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He leaves you standing there, a girl-shaped pool of want, a loose-limbed trembling thing that aches – but it’s nothing compared to what you feel when he gets out of the shower. 

Opening the door, he walks out in just his briefs. Your breathing hitches, your own clothing too tight on skin that aches to slide against his. 

All pretenses gone, he sits down on his cot and the water droplets that linger on his tanned shoulders catch the light when he reaches for the fresh bandages. “Can you help?” he asks, holding them out towards you. 

He leans back on his hands, thighs spread wide. There is so much of him: the streak of white more pronounced against his damp hair, his broad chest, his firm thighs. Hair that dusts along his limbs, more skin of his than you’ve ever seen. For all the ways you’d imagined a scenario like this happening, it catches you off guard how overwhelming the real thing feels. 

In a haze, you move, coming to stand between his feet. He watches as you slowly kneel between his spread thighs, and the look on his face is almost proud, if it weren’t for the stark, blatant hunger in his eyes. 

Unsure of where to start, you force yourself to focus on the task at hand. 

His stomach tenses when you smear ointment over the wound. His throat bobs with a hard swallow when you lay fresh bandages in place, smoothing them down. Carefully cutting fresh strips of tape, you try to ignore the way his tongue slides along his bottom lip as your fingers gently press them into place around the edges of the dressing. 

You perform a slow inspection to make sure it’s airtight – one that continues, even after you’re satisfied. 

Your eyes flit up to his in question, and the look he returns is as steady as you’ve ever seen it, full of silent permission. 

Splaying your fingers, the air between you feels heavy as you run an exploratory path along the curve of his hip, and up along the ridged muscles along his ribs. His body radiates heat underneath your palm, his skin smooth where it isn’t marred with numerous scars. Lighter against his flesh, they stand out: a thin slice along his ribs, a jagged, ugly looking thing on his inner thigh. When you get to the hair that collects beneath his navel, his thighs tense around your waist, but he remains otherwise still. 

Your mouth waters at the bulge at the crux of his thighs, a slowly thickening heft that forms underneath the dark fabric. Resting your hands on the top of his thighs, you shuffle your knees closer and you can hear his breath catch when you bend forward, pressing your mouth just over his bandage. 

The first sound he makes since you started rumbles out of his chest: a low, husky groan.

“C’mere,” he says, his voice rough. He pats his lap, and giving the bandage another kiss, you obey, climbing up to straddle him. 

When you’re fully seated, his hands settle lightly on your hips, and he takes his time looking. 

“Listen to me,” he murmurs, and you do, enraptured. A live wire in his hold, your body stands on the edge of a precipice. 

“This goes only as far as you want it to. You say stop, I’ll stop.”

“And if I don’t?”

The grin that spreads across his face can only be described as filthy. Filled with intent, something inside him waiting to pounce. You can see it in his eyes, hidden underneath the rich brown. Lying in wait, letting you come to him. You’re both exercising your own amount of restraint – yours is a bundle of nerves, his is a deep chasm of hunger. 

“Then I won’t,” he breathes against your lips, right before he meets them with his own. 

The press of his mouth sparks to life the unlit match inside you that was waiting for this. Your arms wind around his shoulders, his own curling around your waist. His hands press underneath your shirt, splaying over your back, so big his fingers almost touch and you can feel the thick ridge of his cock beneath you. Grinding on it, you almost sob with how good it feels after thinking about it for so long. 

You want to be filled so bad it hurts. 

He keeps kissing you: hands cupping your cheeks to hold you in place, sliding down your sides in a weighty drag, shoving themselves underneath the band of your thermals to grab handfuls of your ass. Back up again to tug your shirt off, molding to your tits to push them together with a groan. His mouth moves to kiss them instead of your lips, his whiskers dragging across the skin just above your bra, his tongue sliding along your sternum with a lick.

Pulling back, he works at the front clasp of your bra. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do everything that I’d like to,” he says, his eyes flicking down to his wound. “But I’m not totally useless.”

He tosses your bra to the floor, and your back arches when he uses his thumbs to rub the tight buds of your nipples right before he replaces the touch with his mouth. He sucks them each in turn, his tongue laving over each sensitive peak, drawing them into his mouth, and biting the plump flesh around them when he cups his hand to push more of it into his mouth. He’s rough with you as his hunger grows, guiding your willing body into position and pressing his hold against your back, his kisses move up your chest to lick at your throat, his teeth catching the skin there. He nibbles on the curve of your jaw, sucks on your earlobe and the crotch of your leggings are soaked when his lips brush along the shell of your ear. 

“I’ve waited so long, Birdie. So long.” His hand slides into the hair along your nape, and he tugs, tipping your head back until you’re looking at him. “I know you have too.”

Your pulse racing in your chest, your belly jumps when you feel his other hand skim along your bare stomach. His eyes stay on yours as his touch skims lower and lower, teasing at the waistband of your leggings. He tucks his fingers inside, a fresh pool of slick wetting your underwear when he brushes against the soft thatch of your pubic hair. 

“Is it wet for me?” he asks. 

Helpless, you nod, swallowing hard. Your fingers curl into his biceps, and his hold on your hair tightens. 

“Can I touch it?”

You nod again, and he grins, a dimple catching at his cheek. His hand slips lower, his wrist forcing your leggings down in the front. 

“The amount of time I’ve thought about doing this. About touching you here.”

Tandem groans of relief sound through the air when his fingers meet the slick wetness that waits for him, his touch sliding through your seam before he presses his fingers up, up, up, your mouth dropping open as he fills you. 

“You already feel like heaven between your thighs,” he says, the words dripping in reverence. “I wish I could taste the bliss that is your cunt.”

The filthy words ratchet you higher, the inside of your thighs straining as you grind yourself into his hand to force his fingers deeper. Like he was being quiet during your exploration only to ambush your senses when he was ready, his words are endless, dripping with intent. 

“Tell me where it hurts, Birdie. Let me soothe the ache.”

“Show me, little one. Show me how you’ve thought about me doing this.”

Your hand wraps around his wrist as you steady yourself, a frown of pleasure etched deep between your brows and you fuck yourself on his thick fingers, your hips never stopping in their roll. His thumb finds your clit, and you cry out towards the ceiling of the pod, a sound that makes him chuckle, dark sounding and pleased. 

A trembling mess on his lap, you’re helpless as he forces you higher and higher, his fingers filling and precise, sliding against a deep spot inside you that you’ve only dreamed of. Just as lethal as he is outside, just as in command as he always is, he plays your body like he’s played it a thousand times before – every stroke tipping you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, breathless. “Fuck.”

“Here?” he asks, smiling when you curl forward, resting your head against his shoulder. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on. Everything that you’ve wanted the entire time you’ve been stuck here with him swirls and blends with everything you’ve ever always wanted and never got, and when he adds a third finger you look at him with hooded, pleading eyes – only to see dark victory in his own. 

He doesn’t have to goad you to tip you over the edge. 

It’s like a forceful shove off a cliff, your body floating through the air. Your jaw is clenched, your cunt clenching even tighter in pulses that squeeze his fingers and he watches it all with a greedy, proud expression. 

“There you go,” he talks you through it. 

“There’s my girl,” he praises, capturing your mouth in a kiss. 

–

It’s a scramble after that to get back down on the floor. 

He’s sucking on his fingers with a low, desperate groan and you’re tugging his briefs down. 

He’s watching as you take him out, hardening at the way your eyes widen. 

Your hand struggles to wrap fully around him, but you don’t hesitate a second before bending to guide him into your mouth. Your lips stretch around the thick tip of his cock, your tongue sliding along the sensitive underside, tracing the line of a vein. Sliding him deeper along your palate, his balls draw up, his cock hardening to the point of near-pain. Your hand works the thick base while you press forward to fit him along the back of your tongue, and it only takes a couple of deep throated strokes to bring him to the edge, with how long he’s been waiting. 

Wanting. 

Driving himself to madness, thinking about the taste of your cunt. 

At the thought, he sucks on his fingers again, and you raise your eyes to watch, a moan sliding out of your throat to caress the length of his cock. 

“Shit, Birdie. Shit,” he warns, hands fisting the blanket on his cot as he leans back to widen his thighs. They tremble along your shoulders, the muscles flexing under your palm where you stroke the inside of one. You find the scar you saw earlier and glide your touch over it, pressing your fingers into his flesh as you force him to the back of your throat. 

At that, he comes. 

Loud and filthy, the groan that he lets out is strained at the end as he pours over the back of your tongue. 

His fingers clench and flex, his eyes pinched shut as if he can’t bear looking as he fills your mouth with pulses of thick, pearly spend. Weeks of tension drain into your waiting mouth, enough that you can’t catch it all. 

When you pull back to swipe at a glistening thread of it that escapes your swollen mouth, there is something so innocent about the gesture that he groans again, this time a plea of his own. 

Pushing on your shoulders, he slides off the cot to drop to his knees in his haste to kiss you. 

You taste like you and like him, and he’s addicted, his cock firming with every lick inside your mouth. You whimper into the messy kiss, and it drives him to near madness the way he knows that if he would touch you right now, he’d find you soaked. 

He can’t fuck you – not with his stomach the way that it is – but he can do other things. 

So many other things. 

“I knew it,” he breathes into your mouth, guiding you onto the floor beneath him. “I knew it would be this good.”

You preen underneath him, reaching to pull him down on top of you. 

“I want more,” you beg. “Please, Ez. Please.”

The juxtaposition of how innocent you look while begging for something so filthy claws at his insides, his body reveling in the urge to teach you just how many ways he can make you feel good. 

He grins, bending down to devour you whole.

[starredblood]

CHIHIRO

PART TWO

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you start suspecting a deeper history with sae-byeok, who is letting you in so easily.

wc. 5.1k

warnings: reader gets bad migraine, bit of angst and fluff

(chihiro masterlist)

(summer, 2021)

You’re walking like you don’t want to be approached. Headphones on and sporting your darkest sunglasses—but it was all because you couldn’t stand being in the sun too long. That’s how the migraines start. You didn’t always have this problem and adjusting to a different lifestyle is harder than it looks.

You don’t want to think too much about it though. The impact one minuscule moment made to your life. But there was a brief time a month ago when the loss was all you thought about—it left you immobilized in your room even when you were fully able to step into the real world. But you were just too sad. You lost yourself…and you don’t know how many others lost you too.

That feeling brewing in your stomach is still there—the shifting of your world. You try avoiding anything that has to do with change to make sure your gut feeling is lying to you. So, you go to work, do your job (somewhat poorly) and go home, your home—that’s what you want your life to be forever now. Preferably alone.

But you already failed to fight back the change when you saw a small feline curled up by the edge of the sidewalk.

You gasp seeing the fragile state of the black kitten, who was trembling profusely and was barely able to open its eyes. Removing your sunglasses to take a better look at the cat, you then glance around to see if it belonged to any passerby’s but no one paid attention to the stray. You frown, thinking that maybe you’re hallucinating this cat that’s crying for help in the sea of pacing legs.

When you bend down and gently pat the cats small back, it flinched horribly making your heart clench. At least the kitten was real, and you’re too afraid to leave it here alone. Someone could trample it.

“Poor thing.” you coo to the kitten and it weakly mewls back. When it gets used to your touch, you scoop the cat in your hands. “Are you lost?”

You exhale through your nose. Your mom never liked cats and would always disapprove the idea of adopting one ever since you were a child. Good thing you moved back into your apartment and can do whatever you please. But can you really take care of another living being in your state?

The kitten, which you find out is a girl, begins to doze off in your warm palms. This has to be a sign for you to keep her. You rub her tiny back with your thumb and decide to take her home.

It was a good thing that you weren’t far from your apartment. The plan is to take her home, scurry to the nearest pet store and tomorrow you will take her to the vet. This change is good, you try to tell yourself as you keep on trudging.

One change you didn’t particularly favor was Cheol’s sister who is apparently everywhere now. You didn’t think it was her, sitting on a bench only a block away from your apartment, but it’s her. The short unruly hair and cold eyes gave it away. What are the odds of finding her here?

And it’s like she too can feel your presence because she spots you trying to brush past her. But meeting her icy glare only gave you more courage to speak up.

You pause in your footsteps, turn back around and walk back to the girl sitting on the bench. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re stalking me?” you ask her, sounding aggravated.

“I was working nearby—don’t get your ego inflated.” she scoffs, then breaks eye contact to look at what you’re cradling. She blinks. “Is that a cat?”

“I found her by an alleyway.” you state apprehensively and continue to pet her.

“And you’re going to keep it?”

“Why not? I always wanted a cat.” you shrug. She presses her lips into a thin line and you use that as your cue to walk away from this conversation. But in the middle of spinning back around, a question pops into your head. “Hey, what’s your name by the way?”

Her expression is bleak and unreadable as usual, but you noticed the small gulp. “Sae-byeok.” she answers quietly.

You curtly nod and start backing away slowly. “Have a nice day, Sae-byeok.” you mutter back awkwardly and start walking faster before another interaction from her erupts. You can feel her stare on your back however.

Ever since you started talking to her, you feel like you see her everywhere. Your mind can’t catch a break from thinking of her. Especially not at work, that’s where you usually find her lingering around but today is a different day with a different challenge and she always seems to be part of the challenge.

A few days after adopting your new kitten, who’s still nameless, you feel a new sense of purpose in your life. You want to take living more seriously.

You sacrificed two hours of your life this quiet Monday morning to go to the library earlier than scheduled to fix the mistakes you’ve made the past couple of weeks. And you have a good feeling about this, your mind is more clear and sharp than before. You might not get paid for these hours of work but it’ll be worth it seeing the look on Dasom’s face when you prove her wrong. Prove everyone wrong.

In your notebook, you mapped out the layout of the library so you spend less time getting lost. After successfully placing every book away in their actual correct spots, you spend the last thirty minutes in the back office organizing and cataloging the library materials—which were completely disarray thanks to you. By the time you finish, it’s time for you to technically—officially be working.

When you clock in the break room, Dasom bursts in a couple of seconds after. When she sees you, her malevolent smirk appears. “Do you happen to be well acquainted with, Remy?” she asks in a mocking manner. You don’t answer her instead roll your eyes and avoid her gaze. “The library looks nice—I’m assuming you had to have a rat underneath your garments or something that helped you make this place finally look satisfactory. Because god knows you didn’t fix this place all by yourself.”

“You’re the exception to the rule, Dasom.” you sneer and try storming off but she had a tight grip on your shoulder blade.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she queries.

You don’t say anything, knowing that she isn’t worth arguing with, and swat her hand off you. When you step out the break room, you hear her clearly muttering insults underneath her breath. You feel bad for her, truly—a once spoiled child isn’t getting what she wants and is taking out her frustrations onto you.

Once your other coworkers start trickling in, you saw less of the likes of Dasom. Most of your morning and afternoon was working on the library’s catalog, the most tedious part of being a librarian. And having to sit down for hours irks you and your poor back.

Now that summer break officially started, more kids began coming into the library to mingle rather than learn. You get it though, you were a kid once after all so you didn’t mind that they came in just to socialize. However, there’s always a handful that come by to get a head start for the next school year—you were once also that type of child. But you didn’t expect a particular kid to be the same.

You look away from your computer screen and become surprised when you see Cheol accompanied by his sister Sae-byeok. He has a thick book pressed on his chest and smiles shyly at you.

“Hi, Cheol.” you greet him casually.

“Hi, noona.” he says back.

“Can you help him?” Sae-byeok asks right after. You look at her and your face morphs into confusion.

You wanted to question her. Why—Why now? Was she not able to help him after all? But this wasn’t about her or you, so you put those thoughts and animosity towards Sae-byeok away and look down at Cheol.

“Of course.” you say, grinning at him. “What do you need help with?”

“It’s hard for me to read this book…”

And with that, you take him to his favorite spot in the library and help him read through the first few chapters of a book that’s clearly above his grade level. But you’re impressed he’s succeeding. It makes your heart full because this is what being a librarian means to you. However, it would’ve been nice if Sae-byeok wasn’t watching you guys like a hawk. But at some point she starts picking up her own book and starts reading.

Halfway through reading the third chapter, Cheol breaks into conversation. He starts rambling about his favorite book that every kid his age loves and he can rarely find it in the library.

“Can I show you my favorite book if I find it?” he suggests, but already rose from his seat so it’s not like you can decline. But why would you—it’s refreshing to see someone his age fall in love with the world of reading.

“Sure.” you say and watching him scurry off to the kids section across the library.

Now the only people in this table were you and Sae-byeok who was sitting across from you. When she sees that his brother left, she lowers the book covering half of her face and starts sending you fleeting glances. You avoiding them by staring down at your hands folded on top of the table.

“Thanks.” she says out of the blue.

You snap your head to look at her briefly. She is leaning against the table, tracing circles on the cover of her current read, Human Acts by Han Kang—an amazing book you might add.

Maybe you’re being too harsh on her. There’s a lot you can learn about a person by knowing what they like to read. And a book as profound as this gives Sae-byeok a whole new layer of depth that you didn’t expect. Now, you’re curious to know her thoughts on it. Instead, you just clear your throat when she spoke up.

“No problem.” you breathe, fiddling with the bookmark you picked up. “He’s a good kid.”

“He is.”

When you eye her again, you see her glaring at something past your shoulders. Out of curiosity you turn around to see what she’s looking so harshly at. It was Dasom, who was also staring back but looks away when she spots you. She disappears into one of the bookshelves.

You whirl your head back around and give the icy girl a tight lipped smile. “I don’t like her either.” you bluntly admit.

The corner of her lips start twitching, like she was fighting back the urge to smile. You start to wonder what’s taking Cheol so long, it’s like he’s purposefully trying to give you a hard time right now. This awkward pause was too much.

Sae-byeok sucks in a breath of air like she was purposefully trying to get your divided attention. She starts rubbing the nape of her neck, appearing to have a hard time making her mouth say words, “Are you um…free later?” she carefully asks.

When she says this you already know where this is heading. You aren’t sure why she’s suddenly trying with you, but it intrigues you. Her cold nature was unraveling.

“I am.” you say plainly.

“I figure that I owe you for helping Cheol…if you want we can go to the cafe we ran into each other maybe like later today…?”

“…Uh—“

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” she cuts you off, determined to avoid your eyes.

You didn’t expect her to be such a wildcard. The timidness seeping through her voice and her softening gaze made your curiosity peak.

“It’s the cafe that looks like a little fairy cottage, right?” you ask her and she nods. “That’s my favorite. I’ll go with you. I get off at three—I’ll meet you there.”

You were too focused on Cheol’s reappearing figure to see the glint of hope in her eyes.

“This is your favorite book?” you ask Cheol, who comes back out of breath but elated with the book he hands you.

After another hour went by, it was time for you to fulfill other duties you had to complete before your shift is over. But you take your time to walk with the two siblings out the library.

After wishing Cheol goodbye, it was now Sae-byeok’s turn. But you couldn’t find anything to say—not after what occurred before.

She stands in front of you, with her muscles tense, stiff shoulders, and hands shoved in the depths of her jean pockets. “Thanks again. I guess I’ll see you later.” she murmurs with a deadpan expression.

All you could do is nod to that, ignoring the queasiness that you felt in your stomach. You wait for them to reach the doorframes to turn around.

You bite back a smile when you overheard Cheol tell his sister as they were heading out, “You guys are seeing each other later?”

When three o’ clock came, you entered the break room with much eagerness than when you started this morning. But the excitement quickly vanished when you saw something of yours suspiciously on the floor. Upon further inspection, you saw that it was your sunglasses split in half—the ones you need to help with migraines. Someone was holding back laughter nearby and you knew who it was. You didn’t want to give Dasom the satisfaction.

Instead you hold in your anger and kick off the broke glasses to the side and grab your purse from your locker. You can feel her throwing daggers when you walk out.

You don’t rely on a map anymore to the cafe, you come here almost everyday now. The only thing you have to do is find Sae-byeok when you enter.

It was easy to spot her quiet and enigmatic figure. She sat by the window again, her hands propped up on the table with her hands folded. She had her hair styled into a short ponytail which she didn’t have earlier. Her once sharp eyes rounded when you stood by the door in a frigid posture. Something about her face feels more familiar day by day.

“What do you usually order?” she asks making you snap out of your thoughts.

You slowly pull up the chair across from her and sit down. “Uh—vanilla latte, iced.”

She nods and gets off her seat to go order. You observe her some more. Her guarded behavior is present to anyone she encounters but with you she speaks in a much softer tone. The way her arms are crossed and her eyebrows are knitted when she orders is a telltale sign to stay away from her.

Your mom told you that you didn’t meet anyone new the past year. And you believed it at first because you didn’t have the energy to go and search if she was telling you the truth. But maybe you want to try now. Unless Sae-byeok is just being nice this whole time and you’re just paranoid.

“Thanks.” you murmur when she passes you your coffee. Neither of you speak as you take sipping your drinks. You feel like there is a big elephant in the room. Your past animosity towards her is no longer present—it left the second she came to you asking if you can help her brother. “Hey, about the past— I’m sorry for lashing out on you…so many times.”

“It’s fine.” she shrugs after finishing taking sips of her cold brew.

“No, it’s not.” you state and frown when she doesn’t look up at you. So, you scoot your seat closer to lean on the table to make her. “I was too cowardly to defend myself against Dasom because her parents donate to the library. So, I threw my frustrations onto you.”

“Like I said—it’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Okay.” you whisper.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” she sighs and starts playing with the hem of her sleeve like she was in careful thought. You wait for her to gather them to say something else. “Just figured you wouldn’t want to tell me after finding out…” she trails off, quieter than the wind.

“About what happened to me?” you ask cautiously. When she nods you chew the inside of your cheek. You don’t discern the fact that your legs are bouncing aggressively underneath the table. “Do you want to know?”

She nibbles on her lower lip. “Only if you want to talk about it.”

It’s been awhile since you spoke aloud about your accident. And how it took a year out of your life. Your heart starts racing, you try to convince yourself it’s just the caffeine but deep inside you know it’s because you’re anxious. Sae-byeok couldn’t look away anymore, clearly wanting a question but isn’t blunt enough to directly ask.

“I got into a car accident. Most of the injuries went to my head.” you explain shortly. But it took everything in you to finally say it. “I lost a year worth of memories because of it. And I get really bad brain fog so…that explains all the confusion and getting lost.”

“Sounds hard.” she whispers and starts glancing out the window.

“It is.” you heave. “My therapist says that music therapy and creating lists help with it.”

“Is that why I always see you with headphones during your breaks?”

“Are you always watching me?” you snort seeing the blush creep up her neck. That’s a sight you never thought you’d see. Her posture becomes guarded again, the arms crossed and contorted expression so you clear your throat. “Let’s change the topic okay?”

“…Fine.” she hesitates.

“Cheol told me his favorite book—what’s yours?”

“Heaven by Mieko Kawakami.” she responds right away, it took you by surprise.

“Really?” you gape, your eyebrows raising up. You see her lips start quivering again. “I love that book—not my favorite though but it’s definitely up there.”

“What’s yours?”

“The White Book—Han Kang.” you say without further thought. You take your last sip of coffee so you hold back the urge to laugh at her crestfallen expression. “You look so surprised when I said that:”

Sae-byeok exhales, like she was holding back the laugh that was ready to escape. You continue to gawk at her—you couldn’t distinguish what was different about her but something definitely was. Like flicker of a switch, you feel more at ease with her. It feels like you can tell her anything. Your heart drops at the possibility of—

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asks casually but already rose from her seat before you could answer. “There’s a spot I think you might like.”

A quizzical look etches your face. “Sure?”

She grabs your empty coffee cup and dumps it on the trashcan. When she opens the door halfway, she pauses and waits for you to catch up.

The moment you’re out in the sunlight your head feels like it’s tightening. This torturous sensation couldn’t be alleviated because Dasom broke your sunglasses. But you are dying to know where she will take you so you might just have to put up with the blaring sunlight.

When you reach the park, you think she’d lead you to a bench and sit by the lake. What you didn’t expect is to stand in front of a large wired gate at the end of the park. On the unreachable end of the gate, you see a massive greenhouse that resembles a mansion.

You’re confused when Sae-byeok bends down to lift up the wired fence, leaving a quaint gap for anyone to trespass through. She doesn’t say anything, but the glint of mischief in her eyes tells you enough—she wants you to duck underneath.

“Do you want to pay fifteen bucks to enter?” she asks you like the clear and obvious answer is to sneak inside the botanical garden.

A sigh escapes your lips. You don’t answer but you always wanted to go see the botanicals. You let your heart speak for your actions and duck underneath the fence. When you make it to the other side, you fight back the urge to wince at the headache starting to kick.

You shield your view from the white sunshine using your hands. But when Sae-byeok crawled to the back of the garden, she took one of your hands with hers and makes you run with her to the enormous greenhouse.

Her warm hands enveloped with yours and it confuses you. You don’t get it—why is she so relaxed with you?

She sneaks you into one of the back entrances, letting go of your hand and guides you by pressing her hand to the small of your back. Every now and then, you feel her hot and unsteady breath hit the side of your neck.

“We’re good.” she whispers when no onlookers or staff caught onto you both for trespassing.

You’re so in awe of the tall strangely shaped trees and arrays of flowers you didn’t even know existed that you almost forgot about the excruciating migraine starting. Sae-byeok quietly watches you, as if she was waiting for you to come to some sort of epiphany that never happened.

She trails after you for a solid ten minutes while you observe and snap photos of different plants you come across.

“There’s a spot outside with a pond—if you want to sit down.” she falters.

Her voice startles you. At this point, your eyes were squinted because you couldn’t take the sharp throbbing pain anymore.

“Lead the way then.” you still say.

You want to hold on longer. You’re dying to know how to solve the unsolvable puzzle that is Sae-byeok.

The pond was small and inviting with only a singular bench that can barely fit two people. When you both sit down she stares straight ahead at the lake as if she was pondering the great mysteries of the world. She has to know you’re looking at her right now.

You didn’t notice her splatter of freckles across her cheeks until now that the sunshine beams straight down on them. A blurry memory pops into your head about the same freckled person in front of you—you feel like you’ve seen her before.

Her posture slackens and she leans the back of her head on the bench. She was squirming at the intensity of your gaze.

“I feel like I know you.” you say outright.

Sae-byeok’s pokerface becomes stern. “From?” she says with a light tone—hope?

“I don’t know…Never mind.” you shut your eyes at the feeling of the sun hitting your corneas. “I need to stop assuming that everyone new I meet is from the past.”

You hear her keep shifting on the bench. “Can I ask you something now?” she asks. You flutter open your eyes and hum. “Do you have any friends right now?”

“Not really. I had a good group of friends in college but we all just naturally grew apart. But as of right now no.” you answer honestly. Adulthood is lonely, you doubt you’re the only one. “How about you?”

There was a brief pause after you ask her the question. Sae-byeok couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pond, it was like nostalgia washes over her. The small rare smile on her lips and fond eyes were a strange yet silently beautiful sight.

“I had one. But she left a long time ago…So, I guess not.” she answers bleakly.

“I’m sorry about that.” your frown. “Did she…?”

“Die? No—just left without saying a word.”

“Ah. That must suck.” you say, looking down at your lap. The migraine was getting worse. You feel your mind get more foggy and your eyes are starting to see all white. But you don’t want to stop talking to her.

“It does…I asked that because—I’m trying to make new friends.”

“You want to be friends?” you say breathlessly and she faintly hums in response. Now you feel awful for the way you behaved around her. But the light was becoming to unbearable you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. “I’m sorry.” you apologize for your past actions and for what’s about to occur next.

Sae-byeok didn’t notice your odd behavior yet. “For what this time?”

“Being so judgmental.” you say, your voice shaking like you were dealing with a lot of pain. “You didn’t deserve it.”

That was the last thing you were able to croak out until you had to press your palms to your aching forehead. The pain was too unbearable, you wanted to collapse on the ground and curl up into a ball by how weak and small you felt.

You feel a hand on top of your shoulder. Sae-byeok’s hoarse voice rings past your ears, “Are you alright? Hey, are you okay?”

“My head.” you say—you hope you did. The discomfort was becoming too much by the minute, that’s when the tears threatened to spill.

“What? What’s happening with your head? Did you get hurt again?” she frantically asks.

She gets off the bench and kneels down in front of you to get a better look at your wet face. Your silent cries were enough to signal that you were fighting an internal battle.

You feel so ashamed, so useless. She shouldn’t be dealing with your mess. “Sorry—“

“Do you need to go to the hospital? Please—Please say something.” she cries. You shake your head, instead you’re barely able to reply with the word home and that’s enough for her. “I’ll take you don’t worry.”

The recollection of what happened after she said that was foggy. You think she carried you on her back all the way to your apartment—but you don’t recall giving her your address or specify what floor you live on. And you’re almost certain that you didn’t tell her the precise location of your bedroom.

It wasn’t until you feel your body lay comfortably on the mattress and hear all your curtains in your room being shut and your cat mewing that you know you’re safe. But the tears couldn’t stop flowing from the pain—you feel as if your eyes were about to pop out of your skull.

“Do you have any medication that’ll help?” you hear her shaky and out of breath voice. At first you thought you were making it up. When you try to sit up, she gently pulls you back down. “Just tell me I’ll—I’ll know.”

You take a deep breath in to gather the words that were disarray in your mind. “Kitchen…cabinet.”

The shuffling of feet’s lets you know she’s left to find it but what you’re surprised about is how quickly she came back. Maybe your mind is too hazy to accurately reflect the concept of time.

The darkness filling the room helped. Your eyes started to adjust better, although it was still a bit blurry you were able to make out the shape of her sitting on the edge of your bed with a handful of medications.

“Be careful.” she gently murmurs when she saw your frail attempt to sit up. “Just point which one you need.”

You point to the orange bottle. She passes you two pills and a water bottle that you slowly take. After chugging almost the entire bottle, you let out another shaky breath.

Your body slowly begins to relax and all you wanted right now was to rest. The pain will take some time to subdue after the medication. You press your forehead against her shoulder blade and inhale her scent of wood-sage and cigarettes—you don’t know why you leaned onto her but it just felt right. What anchored you was the warmth of her hand rubbing circles on your back and her chin propped up on top of your head—and that’s when you knew.

“Sae-byeok…”

“Hm?”

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

(summer, 2020)

“Look what I recently found.” you say, smiling mischievously at the guarded girl.

Sae-byeok humored onto you. She doesn’t know what sort of magic you did you spell her into agreeing to hang out with you but it worked. Maybe it’s the immense loneliness that she can’t get away from is what made her say yes to spending this afternoon with you. She just wants to feel something other than isolation for once. But so far, you were off to a terrible start.

You pull open the wired fence and crawl underneath it. Once successfully on the other side of the fence you encourage her to follow suit.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Sae-byeok snarls, slowly stepping back. She’s already got a lengthy history of breaking the law, she can’t add trespassing to the list.

“Come on I did this last time I was here and I didn’t get caught.” you say encouragingly, still holding onto the edges of the fence. “It’s either this or pay fifteen dollars—now hurry or we’ll really get caught!”

At this point Sae-byeok is frantic, she whips her head around to make sure no one is watching before she starts crawling underneath the fencing. She feels your hand wrap around her wrist to lure her to the back of the greenhouse. Are you some sort of adrenaline junkie? You currently have her ducking behind several displays of wildflowers. If you get them caught Sae-byeok swears this’ll be the last you hear from her

“We’re in the clear.” you whisper and let go of her wrist.

“Why did you take me here?” she hisses and grabs your arm before you have a chance to move around. You look at her with a startled look. “I didn’t sign up to trespass.”

“Well, you said you don’t see pretty things often.” you explain, blinking at her.

Sae-byeok sighs. There’s a reason why she’s so closed off—when she opens up things like this happen to her.

And you seem to determined to explore this garden, you slowly start backing away to a particular spot of this large greenhouse. Sae-byeok could only follow behind you. She silently observes the way you inspect the flowers and read off the signs that list fun facts. Cheol always boast about how smart you are and she isn’t going to deny it. Smart people tend to be the most curious about the world around them. She wishes she had that kind of wonder about life.

So, she tries. She tries mimicking the way you stare at these strange flowers and plants.

“It’s pretty right?”

Sae-byeok flinches by your voice. You are hovering over her, smiling like you’re trying to tell her ‘Told you so.’ She rolls her eyes in response. But they were somewhat nice to look at.

“So, did you like the book I recommended?” you ask her, curiously. She only shakes her head to reply. You conceal the grin itching to form. “Would you consider more of my book recommendations?”

“I don’t read.” she says sternly and knits her eyebrows when you threw her a strange look. “I don’t have time to read.”

The two of you quietly keep observing the flowers. Sae-byeok holds her breath, sensing that you weren’t finished talking because your body was still facing hers.

“You can always come to the library to read.” you suggest. “I always say that time stops when you enter a library—you should try it out.”

She shoves her hands into her jean pockets and walks away from you and this conversation. Sae-byeok doesn’t need life advice from you or anyone else. You don’t have a single clue as to what she has to deal with on a daily basis.

After today, she doesn’t wish to see you anymore—not after this stunt you pulled. Her mind is made up.

🏷️: @lyzem @monkey4lifer @tlouloser @bitchybananaflower @yenyu1s @marfe816 @gummyoonji @peelover25 @saebyeokbliss @knfthxv @we1rdth0ughts @monroesturnns @wiltingconquest @noaanotfound @tyresedidujsfart @madebysae

[bradleysass]

Grimmauld Place: Part Deux - wc: 898 - @samynnad102687 @accio-sriracha @missmoonfrost

James doesn’t sleep. Not that he could, not with the thought of Regulus still trapped in Grimmauld Place, still there—with her. His stomach churns every time he imagines Walburga’s shrill voice, the Cruciatus rolling off her tongue like second nature, Regulus on his knees—alone, helpless.

He grips his wand so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Sirius watches him from the other side of the room, arms crossed over his chest, the shadows under his eyes deepening by the hour. His wounds are half-healed thanks to Euphemia’s careful touch, but the weight of tonight still clings to him, settling into his bones.

“James,” Sirius says, voice low.

James doesn’t look up.

“James.”

He finally meets Sirius’ gaze.

“I swear to you,” Sirius says, serious in a way that makes James stop breathing. “We’ll get him out.”

James clenches his jaw. “Tonight.”

“Tomorrow,” Sirius corrects, and when James’ expression twists into something close to rage, Sirius raises a hand. “You storm in there now, and you’ll get yourself killed. Then who’s saving Regulus?”

James forces himself to breathe.

Sirius is right. Again.

But patience has never been James’ strong suit. Not when Regulus is suffering.

They wait until the first light of dawn, until Fleamont and Euphemia are awake, until James can explain without shaking so hard he can barely breathe.

Euphemia presses a hand to her mouth in horror as James speaks. Fleamont exhales sharply through his nose. Sirius just stands there, silent.

“He’s still in the house,” James finishes, voice raw, “and we have to get him out.”

Euphemia’s gaze flickers to Sirius, heartbreak and understanding etched into her features. “We’ll help,” she says softly.

“Don’t suppose we can just knock on the door and ask politely?” Fleamont muses, rubbing his chin.

James shoots him a glare.

“No, I figured not,” Fleamont sighs. “Then it has to be careful.”

Sirius nods. “We can’t go in through the front.”

James shifts impatiently. “I know that. Do you still remember how to break into your own bloody house?”

A ghost of a smirk tugs at Sirius’ lips. “You think I didn’t sneak out more times than I can count?”

“Then let’s go,” James says.

They move quickly. James and Sirius fly under Disillusionment Charms, landing on the rooftop of Grimmauld Place just as the sun begins to rise. The house is still dark, but James knows better than to think Walburga is asleep.

Sirius leads the way, dropping down into an alleyway near a side entrance, pressing a careful hand against the old brick. “There’s a service door,” he whispers. “Never used except for the elves. It opens from the outside.”

James barely holds back a snarl at the word elves—he doesn’t want to think about Kreacher, about the way Walburga probably forces him to punish Regulus for even breathing the wrong way.

The door clicks open.

James’ breath catches.

Sirius grabs his arm before he can lunge inside. “Slowly.”

James nods, even though every part of him is screaming to run.

They creep inside, the house unnervingly silent. The air is stale, suffocating. James’ heart pounds so loudly he’s afraid it’ll give them away.

Sirius nudges him forward, whispering, “Reg’s room is—”

But James already knows.

He moves on instinct, weaving through corridors, pressing himself into the shadows, Sirius hot on his heels.

Finally, they reach it. The door is slightly ajar.

James braces himself, then pushes it open.

Regulus is curled up on the floor.

James’ breath stutters.

He doesn’t look hurt—no visible injuries, no fresh wounds—but his arms are wrapped tightly around himself, his face pale, his breathing shallow.

James drops to his knees beside him. “Reg,” he whispers, hands hovering, unsure where to touch.

Regulus’ eyes flutter open, dark grey and dazed. “James?” he breathes, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

James lets out something between a laugh and a sob. “Yeah, love, it’s me.” He reaches out, brushing damp hair from Regulus’ forehead. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Regulus blinks slowly, then shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be here.”

James clenches his jaw. “Not leaving without you.”

“Jamie, you don’t—”

The sound of a door slamming open makes them both freeze.

“Regulus Arcturus Black!”

James whips around just in time to see Walburga storming down the hall.

His blood runs cold.

Sirius grabs his wand, yanking James up. “Time to go.”

James hauls Regulus up with him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Regulus stumbles, still weak, but James holds him steady.

“Move,” Sirius hisses.

They run.

Walburga’s shrieks echo through the house, a curse narrowly missing James’ head. The walls seem to close in, the air crackling with dark magic.

James doesn’t stop. He grips Regulus tighter, pushing forward, chasing the glimpse of daylight through the open door—

Sirius throws a hex over his shoulder, hitting a portrait and sending it crashing to the floor. Walburga’s screech is deafening.

The three of them burst outside.

James doesn’t stop until they reach the alley, until they’re hidden behind the wards, until he can finally, finally breathe.

Regulus sags against him, shivering violently. James cradles him close.

Sirius runs a shaking hand through his hair, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”

James presses his forehead against Regulus’. “You’re safe,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”

Regulus exhales, eyes fluttering shut.

And for the first time in his life, he believes it.

[gallifreyan85]

A Mother With No Heart Will Give Love

pairing: mentor!Agatha x reader

summary: you always believed your mentor had a heart. one lonely night, you find yourself with the proof that agatha harkness can be just as vulnerable as anyone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

It was nighttime. You were both outside, in the small wooded area surrounding Westview, slowly finishing up the day’s lesson. It was on Earth magic, Green Craft-- as you’d read in the books, and you wondered briefly why Agatha had saved it for last. Almost as if she were avoiding it. It had gotten dark, slowly but surely, the sun setting behind the small town, the last of its rays disappearing from your face in a slow, bleeding backdrop of color and light as you watched Agatha pack up all your stuff. You were feeling good, content with the day’s outcome, maybe because it was a little different from what you considered the usual.

You were used to staying in the basement and listening to her talk about spells, enchantments, how to channel magic and do useful things, how to defend yourself. But today when you came down with a mug in your hand and your notebook in the other, your mentor shot you a coy smirk, and said to finish your tea and get your jacket. You’d be having a lesson outside today.

So, as you sat on a tree log, shoes shuffling absentmindedly in the dirt, you couldn’t help but notice that Agatha, usually composed, formidable and proficient, seemed slightly off tonight. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing maybe, but she seemed softer towards you somehow, more gentle. You’d take all the affection she gave of course, but you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying a little. It wasn’t like her.

You watched her stacking the few books you’d brought with you, dusting off her dark blue coat.

“Agatha?” you asked carefully.

She looked up at you, “Yes, pet?”

“Is everything okay?”

She smiled at you. Smiled. “Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Don’t know. “ you murmured, “You just… seem a little… I don’t know. Nicer.”

She scoffed. “Please. I’m not nice.” A tad of her usual snark returning.

You gave her a smile, short, nodding, and coughed a little. It was getting cold, and you wished you’d brought a better jacket. Something warmer maybe. A sweater to keep you from freezing on the walk back to the house.

Agatha paused.

You could’ve sworn her hand wavered, the book she was holding almost slipping from her grip. You frowned. That was an odd reaction. Especially for her. Before you could ask anything else she was there beside you, shrugging off her coat and draping it around your shoulders. The words you had died in your throat. One of her hands ghosted across your shoulder, smoothing down the fabric there and sending a wave of warmth from her touch down your arm.

You looked up at her, trying to gauge her expression.

“Thanks.” you murmured softly.

She didn’t answer right away, but her hand stayed on yours, moving lightly to your back, ghosting across your hair.

You didn’t move. Didn’t dare to, not wanting to break the moment of sudden tenderness.

She sat beside you. You stayed still. Then she spoke, her voice still holding a hint of her knowing confidence, but there was warmth there too, a soft, gentle something coating every word of her tone.

“I need you to promise me something, pet.”

You turned to look at her. “Promise what?”

“That this...what we’re doing, what I’m trying to teach you, you take it seriously. I know it may not seem like it but—”

“I take it seriously.” you said, quiet, “You’re a good teacher.” It was a half-truth. She was teasing and tough on you sometimes, pushing you to do things over and over until you felt like there was no magic left in your hands, but she could be kind, too. Sometimes. Rarely. In her own, Agatha way. You knew that she cared more than she let on. And you wouldn’t have anyone else teach you but her.

You watched some unspoken emotion drift behind her blue eyes, somehow bright against the dark twilight that surrounded you.

“Good.” she said. “Flattery won’t get you everywhere, dear, but it’s good you’re listening. You’ll need it all one day.”

“I know.” you said, “I want to learn magic, and you’re amazing at it, and—”

“It’s not just about learning it. It’s about protecting yourself.”

You stayed quiet. “I’m safe here.” you said, “I’m with you, and—”

“And one day I might not be there to come save you from whatever mess you find yourself in.” she spoke, each word sharp and clear. “I won’t be here forever, you know. And it’s vital you learn as much as you can while I’m here to show you how to do it right, to survive—”

You frowned a little. “The world isn’t going to eat me. I don’t go looking for trouble, you know.”

Again, it was a half-truth.

Yes, you didn’t go looking for trouble, but also yes, trouble did seem to find you, maybe because it was one of the many perks of being around Agatha Harkness for long.

“You say that now, but you being a witch is more than enough to land you into danger.”

“Do witch hunters still exist?”

She sighed. Deep.

“It’s not just that. You can’t trust anyone. Even other witches. Especially other witches.”

And you realized what this was. You always knew, of course, how could you not do the simplest research on the person you’d ask to teach you magic, but you never dared to ask.

Your eyes went to the brooch dangling on her necklace, the thin golden chain, three white figures on a dark slab of oval stone. And of course, she noticed at once. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

No snark, no sarcasm, no deflection.

Instead her hand, one that wasn’t still playing with the ends of your hair, rose slightly, the tips of her fingers brushing against the pendant.

“It was my mother’s.” she said, quietly. “A useless thing, really, passed down in our family, some dusty heirloom she never intended to give me. I only took it after—”

She didn’t have to finish for you to understand.

You didn’t speak yet. Just thought.

How that must have felt for her, young, maybe as old as you were now, alone, standing in the middle of the aftermath of her own power, the only people in her life dead by her hands, her magic, her own fear and power. How alone she must have felt, you thought. How angry, how afraid. Of course she wouldn’t show it. But you knew. If anyone did, you supposed it was you, knowing that Agatha Harkness did have a heart. You saw the proof every day, soft pats on the head, a tea or coffee handed to you in the middle of studying, the warmth of a mug pressed into your hand, the quiet, soft, gentle hum of her magic washing over you every time she did something sweet, even if she would deny it when asked.

“She wasn’t a loving person.” she murmured. “She was cold, always seeing magic as something to be controlled, same as people. Same as her coven. But she couldn’t control me.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I’m telling you because I need you to know, hun. People always betray you. You can’t trust anyone, even if they’re your coven. Your family. Your sisters. And having too much knowledge or power can make them turn against you like that—”

She snapped her fingers, so suddenly that you flinched.

“And no matter how much power or magic or knowledge you get, you always end up alone. You need to learn to deal with it. Get used to that feeling. Don’t let it control you.”

“But you’re not alone.” you murmured.

She tilted her head to look down at you. “You say that now, but—”

“No.” you interrupted, suddenly feeling the urge to let her know just how much her presence means to you, “I’m not. I mean it. I’m not going to leave you. Or betray you, I wouldn’t, ever—”

“I know, hun.” she murmured. “I know you wouldn’t. I believe you. But I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did.

That surprised you.

“W-what?”

She just shook her head, a distant look in her eyes, “The things I’ve done dear, they’re not decent. They’re not good in any way. And I don’t regret them. Any of them.”

And yet you saw a glimpse of something in her eyes that made you think otherwise.

And then you thought maybe, maybe you were just as twisted as her, because you didn’t care. At that moment, looking at her through the soft moonlight, seeing her look so vulnerable for once, so different and alone, you didn’t have it in you to resent her.

You knew what she’d done. Killed other witches, took their powers, fought so many people, but--

All you wanted to do was reassure her somehow, make her feel safe.

Make her feel as safe as she made you feel.

So you hugged her.

She stiffened immediately, shoulders tensing at the sudden contact, a soft huff escaping her in surprise. “Uh—”

You didn’t let go. Held on tighter. Her arms, hovering hesitantly around you, lowered a little, just barely brushing against your back.

“You’re not bad, Agatha.” you told her quietly. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, and I’m not leaving you-- ever—”

She huffed again, but you went on.

“No. I mean it. I promise. I’ll stay with you, and learn more magic, and-- and I’ll stay until you get bored of me and kick me out.”

You thought you felt her smile against you. Just faintly. Just a little. “Get bored of you, hun? Now that’s impossible.”

It made you smile in return. And, since this was apparently turning into some sort of heart-to-heart talk, the kind that Agatha Harkness never does, well, you thought, might as well--

“Thank you for looking after me.” you made out.

She didn’t reply right away.

“Don’t say it like that darling, you’re making me sound like some sort of-- caring—”

You giggled. She gave you an offended look, pulling away a little, and you couldn’t help but pout. She snorted. “You’re so needy.”

“No, I’m not-”

“Oh, yes. You are. Needy and clingy and must you be so affectionate all the time, honestly it’s like watching a baby kitten.”

“Kittens are cute.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. Quiet fell upon you for a moment, and you didn’t let go of her arm, just listening to the soft stillness of the woods around you, the gentle movements of leaves against the late-night breeze. A gust of wind swindled past you, making you shiver slightly. You felt her arm shift to pull you just a bit closer. Though you knew she wouldn’t admit it. You leaned against her, silent, feeling slightly shy at the emotional moment this was turning into. You ducked your head against her, rested your chin against her arm. She didn’t move away.

“You know,” she said softly, “sometimes… Sometimes I wonder why you’re still here. Why you insist on staying with me. You should be running away.”

“I’d never run from you. Not like that.”

And you meant it. You couldn’t imagine yourself running away from her, not in fear like she was expecting you to.

She sighed, the sound reverberating against you. “You’re far too sweet for someone like me, you know.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…” another sigh, soft, almost sad, “You make it really hard not to care for you. And I don’t do that. Not ever. Not since…”

“Since what?”

“Not since… since my son.” she murmured softly, so quiet you almost missed it. “My… Nicholas. And those last few days...”

You didn’t move. You weren’t sure what to say, how to--

“You remind me of him so much sometimes, you know?” she said, still so quiet, “You’re both so happy, so innocently optimistic and carefree and-- you don’t-- see me like everyone else does. You look at me like-” she paused again, “like I’m…”

You looked up at her and were taken off guard to see tears in her eyes, a rare sight, and you wondered how many had seen her like that and lived.

“Like what?” you whispered, softly.

“I’m not good for you sweetheart. You shouldn’t be spending your time with a cynical old witch like me, looking at me like that—like you think there’s some good left in me. Trust me there isn’t.”

Your heart hurt.“That’s not true.”

Agatha chuckled wetly. You reached up to hold her hand before she could pull away.

“Truth is, hun, you make me feel things I thought I buried-- with—” she turned away. “It’s not good for my-- my reputation.”

You hugged her again.

She hugged you back, arms wrapping around you, pulling you close, more tightly than you’d felt in a long, long while.

“You make me want to be less… cruel, hun.”

“Is that really so bad?” you murmured softly.

She shook her head, just barely, pressed her face into your hair. You felt tears, warm, wet, sliding down her cheeks and into your hair, to your face. You didn’t move. Just held on tighter.

“I’ll always stick with you.” you murmured. “I...I won’t leave you. Ever.”

She exhaled against you, breath trembling slightly. “You stay safe for me hun, okay? I need to know, I need to know you’re listening to me when you’re here, when—”

“I’m listening.” you said, soft but firm. “I promise I am. And you’ll teach me more about protection spells, and about runes, and-- and we can haul up in your basement if something comes for us, and you can kill it and save us.”

She chuckled tearfully.

You could her her sniffling, her hands momentarily leaving your back to presumably wipe her eyes. You didn’t turn, letting her pull herself together. When you thought she did, a little at least, you pulled your head back slightly and glanced up.

Her blue eyes were wet with tears, slightly red and glassy, seeming more pale than usual.

It scared you a little, seeing your Agatha, usually so composed and tough, reduced to tears over-- what?

You?

Her son?

Her-- grief, and--

“I worry about you, pet.” she said finally, her voice frail for once. “Sometimes I look at you and think you’ll change your mind one day, that you’ll see how… how I really am. How b—”

“I won’t. I see you, Agatha.” you told her softly, in the best comforting voice you could muster, “I see through what others don’t, and I won’t leave you. I don’t even know where I’d go if I did. You’re… you’re all I have left.”

There was a moment that seemed to stretch forever, where she simply held you and didn’t let go. And then-- as quickly as it started--

She shook her head, and stood up abruptly.

“We should head back. It’s late.”

That was it then. Moment over. You knew she would probably do this but something pulled in your chest as you stood up as well, her coat still draped around your shoulders. You bundled it into your arms.

“Do you...want this back?”

She looked at you. Then the coat. Then she shook her head. “Keep it until we get back.” she told you, voice already returning to her old self, “I know how much you’d whine otherwise. And dress better next time. I won’t waste all that time and effort on teaching you magic just so you can die of a simple cold. Hopeless.”

You smiled faintly, and looped your arms through the sleeves.

The coat was warmer than it looked, and you immediately felt a wave of comfort wash over you, mixed with a faint whiff of her perfume and laundry detergent, a soft and floral scent, something you associated with her house.

When she picked up the books and started to walk, you caught up with her, following silently in the slightly-oversized coat, feeling way too snug. You tried to loop your arm through hers. She gave you a pointed look, one eyebrow raised, but let you do it anyway.

“Just this once.” she muttered. “Don’t get used to it.”

You knew it was a lie. She knew it was a lie. Neither of you acknowledged it. You knew neither of you probably ever would.

So you walked, quiet and content, with your hand resting on hers, the paved road firm and grounding beneath your shoes. She didn’t speak more, didn’t mention what she told you, but when the two of you stepped into her front yard she leaned down, hand on the door, and said softly into your ear.

“If you tell anyone about that I will turn you into a bug and feed you to Senor Scratchy.”

You stilled. The words were whispered with such an honest threat, and yet you couldn’t help but smile. You weren’t sure she’d ever really do anything she so often threatened you with, but you’d keep her secrets either way. Of course you would.

You tried to look up at her but she was already inside, disappeared into the kitchen or upstairs, leaving you alone on the doorstep. You followed, stepping in and basking in the warmth of the place, then lightly closed the door behind you.

You found her in the kitchen, making tea on the stovetop and waiting for the water to boil.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at you. But as you sat down, her coat still around, keeping you warm, you noticed the two mugs she’d set out on the counter. You felt her hand ghost over your hair as she went into the living room. A barely-there gesture. Perhaps a silent thank you. But it was enough. You knew, and she knew, and that was more than enough. You were there with her. You were home.

A/n: this wasn't proofread. please don't come at me, I'll edit if I find any mistakes. The title is from Aurora's song Heathens. I'm not sure if I managed to write soft Agatha in a way that's line with her character but I rewatched episode 9 today so that's where the idea came from. Thanks for reading, y'all. Love you. <3

[fucking-brains-out]

Is anyone going to contribute? no? ok imma do it myself  (also I changed Danny names in this since I think that his name has to be more Arabic)  Warning 1000 words 

bad translator of arabic

Danny thought that his life couldn't get more complicated but no, apparently being a half ghost means your afterlife is also weird, he had to be reincarnated into a cult involving corrupted ectoplasm, sure why not and to make it more weird he was born a girl and first born of the daughter of the leader and his Grandfather Ra  

Dalia Al-Guhl is his name here but secretly he calls himself Danyal (he liked more than Daniel to be honest) 

Even in his new life he still has his ghost powers but because of the corrupted ectoplasm is making him sick, he was going to be scarified if it were not from his mother who intervein in, now he is head healer of the league he is known as the Shadow healer (bear with me ok?)  the only good thing about of the league is his baby brother, his Akhi, his Najam, Damian  

Ever since he was a baby Danny has taken care of him, when his mother was in a mission or simply to watch him, he tells him the story of his old life, he told him about stories of his father that his mother told him too, when he was sick Damian make an effort in visit him and when he was better he would sneak Damian in his hidden space where he would watch the stars (Talia knew about the hidden space but wouldnt tell his father about it her dear Dalia had already too much in her place) he would bring him there with him and tell him about the stars he would call him his Polaris and Damian would call him Ursa since he was his big brother   

(“Why am I Polaris?”  

“Because you're my little brother” 

“I'm not little” 

“Yes you are look how tall you are”  

“Tt” 

“Hehe”) 

He would train with his mother when he wasn't sick, Talia despite the circumstances is a good mother, she always looked at him in a way that he knows is a face of proud parent (and if that didn't make him miss his mom) he has tea with her and trains with her, when he is sick he comes to visit him and take care of him (since one time an traitor tried to poison him, good thing he realized and his mother took care of them) sometimes she takes him to minor missions   (“Why do you always help me mother? I know there's a reason for that” 

He sees her pause  

Because my dear Dalia, you and I aren't so different”)  

He can't say the same thing of his grandfather, it makes seem Vlad like a minor thing, he is the fruitloop of fruitloops, he hates his grandfather so much but what he can do? Nothing even if his mother interferes, he has the final saying which sucks because his grandfather can be the most sexist motherfucker ever and a fucking asshole (it doesn't help he is a fucking immortal, when he gets all his strength back, he will brag his rusty ass into the Realms) he always make sure to get a challenge of sorts and if he doesn't make it he will judge him, he hates it, even if he admits he is very skilled that's not good enough for him  

He really misses Damian; he got really sick a time ago he couldn't even leave his bed, in that time his brother had gotten permission to go to their father Damian said he wouldnt go if he didn't come but grandfather prohibited, he was too weak and he still hadn't proved himself to the standards, mother also tried but it was final, he will not go, Damian was very upset but he consoled him that he could write to him anytime, he promised him that he would find a way to join him with his father. That was the last time he saw his brother, he writes to him to time to time but it's not the same and they know it, he is happy that Damian has adapted well to his father family (he also corrects him in certain things, no Damian just because you want to be Robin doesn't mean you have to duel Timothy, don't be mean to our brothers) , he misses him dearly he... he wishes to be there with him, his mother tells him to train more so grandfather approves him to go, but to be honest he thinks she tells him this because so he doesn't lose hope, but it has been 4 years he trying  to do more mission so grandfather can consider it  

Right now, he is on a mission, he has to dispose some traitors that are keeping the pits in restricted in an unknow location, grandfather says the levels of a Lazarus pits have been weird, so he sent him to kill the nuisances (even tho he knows that the pits makes him sick) mother would have go in his place but she was in another mission (how convenient isn't? Can you hear the sarcasm) anyways he is near the place where the pits are, the guards weren't that of an issue and it seem it as the leader wasn't here, but he still has to check the pits, he really hates them, he can't even filter them honestly- 

Time in 

He looks at shock at Clockwork, who he hasn't seen in so long 

“Danyal Al-Guh, Daniel Fenton, Danny Phantom, it's good to see you again” 

“Clocky” he jumps in his arms of the older ghost  

“Danyal, I have carried news, news that you won't like very much”   “What happened?” already in edge  

“There was an accident with princess Ellie, she was seriously hurt fortunate she was able to just retrieved to her core but there's a possibility of breaking” says somberly   The room got colder as frost came from his feet   “What can I do?”  

“You must carry Ellie core in your own, she will reform acondently but the consequences is that she will be reform as an human baby” he brings out his baby core, she has that light green color that she loves so much  

He, honestly expect it, its almost impossible to a ghost heal once they're retread in their cores and if they do reform it takes time  

“I accept” he touches his daughter core and it disappears from his hand, he feels her in his own, she is happy to see him again 

“Now Danyal, you must flee the League of Assassins their ectoplasm can damage Eli in this form, I suggest you go to your brother, be aware to explain the situation to Lady Gotham”  

He nods, he had already come to that conclusion 

“Can you deliver some letters? I have to explain to mother and Damian”  Clockwork nods “Of course”   

*Sometime later*  

He gives the letters to CW and banish, time begins to flow in normal again and flees the place, he goes to one of his hideouts and begins to prepare, he cuts his long hair and changes his clothes to a more comfortable ones, once he is done, he will go to Gotham 

“I'm coming home my Polaris”   

Prompt #12

Okay I have seen a few things of Damien and Danny being siblings but most of the time they are twins but that is not the angle that I’m currently going for since I do remember reading once when Danny was Damien’s older brother some time ago  and  I’m going to throw in some trance Danny misunderstandings with baby elly but a lot more interference from clockwork

so Danny was reborn as Danielle al Ghul and for some reason he was born female but he did not care since he could just simply proclaim himself trance when he’s older, he knows he’s a baby he still has all  his memories from his first life and his time as the ghost King but he sees this as a vacation  that will take an entire lifetime but a vacation non  the less one that finally will let him relax hopefully.

but unfortunately he was born to a family that worships a thing known as a Lazarus pit   a hole  of disgusting, old  ectoplasm that has become corrupted, not to mention he found out later he was born into a league of assassins, and these two things wouldn’t really be a problem since he still has his durability and enhanced senses so he could avoid getting killed, and  he thought  the ectoplasm  would not affect him but unfortunately due to how old and disgusting it was it was making him sick so from when he was a baby he was ill and obviously his grandfather saw this as a liability but his mother somehow convinced his grandfather that he might have inherited his biological father’s intelligence so he might be useful for something other than one day taking over the league of assassins, and that she would simply try and bear another child in order to get the perfect heir,

when Danny was 4 his mother gave birth to his little brother Damien who unlike him was not affected by the Lazarus water so was the perfect  heir in his grandfather’s eyes.

They both were still being trained Damien obviously because he was supposed to be the next heir of the league of assassins but Danny was being trained more in intelligence and healing but it does not mean his assassin training didn’t happen and to the surprise of everyone he was keeping up with his training  the only thing is his illness made it difficult for him to gain his grandfather’s approval since Danny would randomly faint or start coughing up blood.

Also despite constant attempts to keep Danny and Damien apart most of these attempts being done by  grandfather they had a good relationship and Danny had become the league of assassins head healer by the age of 12 and his grandfather, Ra's al Ghul could admit that Danny was not as useless as he once said but despite that Danny’s condition was getting worse, so much that by the time Damien was 10 and about to leave to go to his father Danny could not leave his bed.

okay so a time skip happens of 4 years and this is where I’m going to have to explain on how elly fits into the story, so something happens in elly  gets put into her core and while Danny is on a mission clockwork gets in touch with him again and explained the situation with elly and explains that she needs to be incubated a.k.a. he has to carry her like a normal human baby and Danny Seeing this is a chance to reunite with his daughter along with to get away from the league of assassins makes a plan and stages something that makes it look like he got (assaulted) when in reality all that happen is that he absorbed elly’s core,now for his plan to get away from the league of assassins

he writes a letter to Damien explaining the situation blaming their grandfather for the entire thing by stating that he had been getting worse and   grandfather had sent him on the mission regardless to a place that was honestly more dangerous than he could handle in his much weaker state and now things have happened ( he does not mention that he is pregnant technically since it would be too early to know that for a normal human)

Damien having lived for 4 years with his father and siblings had learned that most of the things the league of assassins did was not okay and receiving this letter from his brother that he had kept secret from his family because he honestly thought that his brother was safe and he did not see a point in telling them about Daniel, was absolutely furious how could grandfather do this, Daniel was a cherished member of the league of assassins she was the best healer, what would be the reason for grandfather to put him in such danger and then he would think Daniel had always been strong his fighting prowess was that on almost the same level as mother  the only reason it wasn’t better was because he was ill and to be honest if he was not ill he probably would’ve far surpassed grandfather,  Damien comes to the conclusion that grandfather was scared of Daniel and was purposely keeping him sick and putting him in dangerous situations just to keep him in line, Damien would not accept this and would immediately set up a meeting with his father so that they can rescue Daniel.

[half-of-a-gay]

i’ve never done this before clearly but : rugby player sevika x teams manager reader , PLEASE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!

my first request 🤭🤩🤗

Rugby player!Sevika x Team manager!Reader

Sevika was a force on the field—unstoppable, relentless, a powerhouse in every sense of the word. She was the kind of player who made opponents hesitate before getting in her way, and the kind of teammate who turned a losing game into a victory with sheer determination. She had the scars to prove it, the muscle to back it up, and the confidence that made her damn near impossible to ignore.

Except when it came to you.

You, the team manager who kept things running smoothly—ordering equipment, organizing travel schedules, making sure their bruised and battered bodies had ice packs and painkillers ready after every brutal game. The one person Sevika, the unshakable, unbreakable rugby star, could barely string two sentences together around.

It was ridiculous, really. She could trash-talk a 200-pound forward without flinching, could carry half the team on her back if needed, but the second you looked at her with that easy smile, clipboard in hand, asking how her shoulder was doing after last week’s game, Sevika forgot how to function.

She wasn’t the kind of person who talked about things.

Not about her injuries. Not about how exhausted she was. And definitely not about the way she felt whenever you so much as looked at her.

So she kept quiet. It was easier that way.

You, on the other hand, were everywhere—on the sidelines, running the team like a well-oiled machine. But Sevika noticed the small things, too. How you hooked your pen on the collar of your shirt when you weren’t taking notes. The way you chewed your lip when you were deep in thought. The fact that, no matter how chaotic things got, you always checked in on her first.

And that terrified Sevika. Because if she let herself believe you cared more about her than just another player on the team, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from wanting more. So she buried it.

Or at least, she tried.

She had survived another week of avoiding you at all costs. But the universe clearly had other plans.

"Sevika."

Your voice cut through the noise of the locker room, sharp and unrelenting, and she froze mid-step. She considered pretending not to hear you, but based on the look on your face when she turned around, that probably would’ve gotten her killed.

Shit. Caught.

Slowly, she faced you, schooling her expression into something bored, as if you weren’t standing there, arms crossed, looking at her like she was one wrong answer away from getting her ass handed to her.

"Yeah?" she drawled, leaning against the row of lockers with the kind of forced, lazy confidence that was supposed to hide the fact that you scared the shit out of her—and that she was, in fact, internally panicking.

"You’ve been ignoring my messages about your rehab schedule."

Damn. She knew she should’ve responded to those.

"I’ve been busy."

You arched a brow, unimpressed. "Too busy to let me know if your shoulder is still wrecked? That’s funny, because I saw you benching twice your weight in the gym yesterday."

Sevika exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. "It’s fine."

"It won’t be if you keep being stupid," you shot back, stepping closer.

Sevika tensed.

You were too close—close enough that she could smell your perfume, something soft, completely at odds with the sweat and adrenaline that clung to her skin.

Her brain short-circuited. She was not built for this.

"I—I’ll do the rehab, alright?" she muttered, suddenly very interested in the scuff marks on the floor. "I’ll text you back."

"You better."

You held her gaze for a second longer before stepping back, giving her just enough room to breathe again. But then—

"You do realize we have an away game next week, right?" you said, arms still crossed.

Sevika blinked. "Yeah?"

"And that you’re a starter."

"…Yeah?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose like she was the biggest headache of your entire existence.

"Sevika, we need you at full strength. We're all counting on you." Your voice softened, just barely.

Oh.

Sevika swallowed, her pulse skipping in her throat. You didn’t say it like the coach. Didn’t say it like she was just another player.

You said it like it meant something more, like she meant something.

Fuck.

Her chest tightened, words sticking to the roof of her mouth. "…I’ll take it easy," she finally muttered. "No promises, but—I’ll try."

You tilted your head, considering. Then, after a beat— "That’s the best I’m gonna get, huh?"

"Pretty much."

You sighed, shaking your head, but you were smiling—just a little.

"Fine," you said, turning to leave. But just as you reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder, smirking.

"Also, if you're gonna keep staring at me during practice, at least try to be subtle about it."

Sevika felt her heart stop.

You were already walking away, leaving her standing there like a complete idiot, blood roaring in her ears.

She was so screwed.

---

Sevika couldn’t stop replaying that moment in her head.

You knew she’d been staring. Had you known for a while? Were you just messing with her? Or— worst case scenario—were you dropping a hint because you wanted her to do something about it?

That thought lingered in her head all week, crawling under her skin in a way that no brutal tackle or grueling practice could. She spent every spare second convincing herself she should just make a move already.

And with the away game coming up—two nights out of town, stuck in a hotel together. Perfect opportunity. She could finally say something. Maybe ask you to grab coffee. Or a drink. Or hell, just talk to you like a normal person.

Yeah. She could do this.

Probably...

---

The away game was brutal. Hard hits. Fast plays. The kind of match that left blood on jerseys and bruises on ribs. Sevika played like she had something to prove—not to the opposing team, not to her coach, but to you.

She tackled harder. Ran faster. Every time she did something impressive, she flicked her gaze toward you, trying to catch a reaction.

And she did.

She saw the way you leaned forward when she broke through the defensive line. Saw how your fingers tightened around your clipboard when she slammed an opponent into the ground. You didn’t cheer, but you didn’t have to. Sevika wasn’t an idiot—she knew you were paying attention.

By the time the whistle blew, declaring their victory, she was covered in sweat and aching all over. But she barely felt it.

Because when she looked up, she caught the smallest smile on your lips.

And that? That made it all worth it.

The players were cheering, laughing, slinging arms over each other’s shoulders as they trudged off the field. You were waiting by the locker room entrance, already running through logistics in your head.

"Bus leaves at ten sharp," you reminded them. "Anyone late buys breakfast for the whole team."

Groans and grumbles followed, but Sevika barely registered them. She was already working through her next move.

This was it. Now or never.

---

Sevika liked to take the edge off with a drink after games. But she could handle her alcohol. She always kept her control—anything to keep the world from getting too close.

But tonight? Tonight, she let go.

Because the opportunities had been there. Moments to make a move, to say something, to do something. The bus ride, when you sat next to her, your knee brushing against hers. The hotel check-in, when you nudged her playfully after handing her room key. The post-game celebration, when you stood right there, close enough that she could've just—

But she hadn't.

Every single time, she hesitated, choking on the words before they could leave her mouth.

So, instead of dealing with that fact, she drowned it.

One drink turned into two. Two turned into five and more.

Which was how she found herself outside your hotel room door at 1 a.m., one hand braced against the frame, the other knocking—too soft at first, then a little more insistent when you didn’t answer right away.

When the door finally swung open, you were standing there, sleepy and so unfairly cute, wearing an oversized sleep shirt that hit mid-thigh. Your hair was messy, your voice groggy when you muttered:

"Sevika?"

She swallowed hard. Was she always this warm, or was that the alcohol?

"You gotta help me," she said, blinking slowly.

You sighed, already rubbing your temples. "Are you drunk?"

"My shoulder hurts," she said instead, leaning against the doorframe a little more, tilting her head at you.

"Sevika—"

"Can I come in?" She blinked up at you, purposefully softening her expression, just a little. "Please?"

You exhaled through your nose, stepping aside. "Five minutes."

That was a mistake.

Because the second she was inside, Sevika collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto her side with a dramatic groan.

You sighed, closing the door behind you. "I swear to God, Sevika—"

"Bed’s nice," she muttered into your pillow, voice way too soft for someone usually so gruff. She rolled onto her back, blinking up at you. "You’re nice."

You crossed your arms. "You said your shoulder hurt."

"It does," she whined, stretching her arms over her head, shamelessly putting her toned stomach on display beneath her hoodie. She peered up at you, smirking. "You gonna fix me up or what?"

You shot her a dry look. "You’re so full of shit."

"But you like me," she countered, her grin lazy, lopsided. "Don’t deny it."

You crossed your arms, raising an unimpressed brow. "Are you flirting with me right now?"

She smirked, slow and lazy. "Depends. Is it working?"

"Not even a little."

She pouted—actually pouted—before shifting to one side and patting the empty space next to her.

"Come here."

You scoffed. "Not happening."

"But my shoulder hurts," she whined, drawing out the last word like a sulky child. "And you’re all warm."

"You are not cuddling me, Sevika."

She huffed, rolling onto her stomach, muffling her next words into your blanket. "You’re cruel."

She peeked up at you, her hair falling over her face, her lips set in a dramatic little pout. "Please?"

"No."

She groaned again, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her face. "Ugh, fine. I’ll just die from shoulder pain. Right here. In your bed. Tragic, really."

You snorted. "You’ll be fine."

"You don’t know that," she grumbled, dropping her arm just enough to peek at you. "What if I wake up and it’s worse?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Sevika—"

"Just let me hold you for, like, five minutes," she bargained, voice pitiful. "It’s for medical reasons."

"Oh my God."

"Please?" she tried again, giving you the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster.

Not even you can resist those big gray eyes. So you fold. Of course you do. You pointed a finger at her. "You get one minute."

Before you could even finish sitting down, Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled—not hard, just enough to throw you slightly off balance.

"Sevika—"

But before you could protest, she was already maneuvering you, shifting so that when you finally settled, her head was resting firmly against your chest, arms draped lazily around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She let out a content sigh, her breath warm against your collarbone.

You stiffened, praying she doesn't notice now hard your heart is pounding against your chest. "This is not happening. Get off."

"Shh." She nuzzled in closer, completely unbothered. "Shoulder hurts. This helps."

"I should’ve just let you suffer. You are so lucky you’re drunk," you muttered, glaring down at her.

She just sighed happily, tucking her face into the crook of your neck. Her grip tightening ever so slightly. "You smell so good," she murmured. "Like…flowers or something."

Your face heated. "Sevika—"

"Soft," she mumbled.

"I swear—"

"Mm." She hummed, already half-asleep.

You should’ve pushed her away. Should’ve made her move to her own bed.

But as her breathing slowed, as her body relaxed against yours, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to.

You just shook your head, turning off the lamp, very aware of the fact that Sevika—stoic, untouchable, intimidating Sevika—was currently curled up on your chest, sighing like she’d never been more comfortable in her life.

[prettyangellllll]

More Than Best Friends

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex.

Summary: She and Rafe had been best friends since childhood, inseparable through every stage of life. Though attraction always lingered beneath the surface, they remained just friends—through relationships, heartbreaks, and late-night conversations. But one night, as she stayed over at his house, everything changed. She was frustrated, vulnerable, and Rafe? Well, what were best friends for?

---

They had been inseparable since they were kids. Every memory she had—summer bonfires, late-night adventures, skipping rocks at the Cut—Rafe was always there. He was her constant, her best friend, the one person who knew her better than anyone. They had always been close, but there were boundaries. Unspoken rules neither of them dared to break.

Attraction was inevitable, but it was something they both ignored. Rafe had his girlfriends, she had her boyfriends, and that was that. Until now.

She lay beside him in his bed, staring at the ceiling, heart heavy with frustration. It had been months since her last relationship ended, and the loneliness was starting to get to her. Not just emotionally—but physically. She shifted uncomfortably, heat pooling in her stomach, biting her lip in frustration. Rafe noticed. He always noticed.

"You okay?" His voice was husky in the dimly lit room, concern laced in his tone.

She exhaled sharply, turning onto her side to face him. "Not really. Just... going through it, I guess."

Rafe propped himself up on one elbow, watching her carefully. "Still thinking about him?"

She shook her head. "No, it’s not that. It’s just... been a while. And I guess I miss—” She cut herself off, embarrassment washing over her.

A slow smirk tugged at Rafe’s lips. "Oh," he said knowingly. "You mean... that."

She groaned, covering her face. "Forget I said anything."

But Rafe didn’t let it go. He reached out, gently pulling her hands away. His blue eyes darkened as he studied her, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip. "You know, I could help you with that."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Rafe—"

"What?" His voice was low, teasing, but serious. "We’re best friends, right? And best friends help each other."

Her pulse quickened. She shouldn’t entertain this. They had never crossed that line before. But the way he was looking at her, the way her body ached with need—it was dangerous. And tempting.

"You sure?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, eyes never leaving hers. "I’ve never been more sure of anything. Just let me take care of you."

Before she could second-guess herself, he was moving. His hands slid under the covers, pushing her thighs apart as he settled between them. The heat of his breath against her inner thigh sent shivers down her spine. She gasped as he pressed soft kisses along her skin, teasing her, drawing out the anticipation.

"Relax," he murmured, voice dripping with seduction. "Let me make you feel good."

Then his mouth was on her, slow and deliberate, his tongue working her in ways she never could have imagined. He groaned against her, gripping her hips tighter, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

"Fuck, Rafe—" she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

He moaned at the sound of her voice, his hands traveling up her body, squeezing and exploring. He didn’t just want to make her feel good—he wanted to ruin her for anyone else.

His movements became more fervent, his tongue flicking and sucking in perfect rhythm, pushing her higher and higher. She was a trembling mess beneath him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body arching off the bed as pleasure consumed her.

"Rafe, I—" she tried to warn him, but he didn’t let up. He wanted to feel her come apart against his mouth. And when she did, when her body convulsed and her thighs tightened around his head, he groaned in satisfaction, holding her down as he rode out her high.

When she finally collapsed back against the pillows, completely spent, he crawled back up her body, his lips ghosting over hers, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin.

"See? Best friends take care of each other," he murmured, smirking as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

She let out a breathy laugh, still coming down from her high. "I think we just crossed a line."

He smirked, pulling her closer. "Maybe. But I’m not complaining. And something tells me you’re not either."

No, she definitely wasn’t. And as she settled into his arms, she felt a new kind of warmth spread through her, not just from the pleasure but from the way he held her so securely. He ran his fingers up and down her back, his touch featherlight, soothing her overstimulated body.

"You good?" he asked softly, his voice laced with something deeper than just satisfaction.

She nodded against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. "Yeah. Really good."

He chuckled, pulling the blankets over them. "Knew I’d take care of you."

She sighed contentedly, nuzzling against him. His warmth, his scent—it was familiar, safe, and for the first time in a while, she felt truly at peace.

Rafe kissed the top of her head, his fingers still tracing patterns on her skin. "Get some sleep, baby. I got you."

She smiled at the nickname, feeling the weight of exhaustion pull her under. With her body tangled up with his, their legs intertwined, their breathing in sync, she let herself drift off, knowing that when she woke up, things might be different.

But for now, wrapped in his arms, she didn’t care.

[crazycat010]

I found you

Gojo Satoru x reader (soulmates AU)

IN WHICH: Gojo finally finds his soulmate, after being given a very unlucky way of connecting to them.

fluff, angst, y/n is insecure about her looks and powers, her colleagues are worried sick about her. Almost-dying thoughts. Talks about death (fight and curses being killed), blood and scars. Fight between y/n and her friend.

Reader is written about as a female and there are references to her clothing. Happy ending.

word count=6.103 words

“Ahh” Gojo hissed, grabbing his face in pain, when was it going to end?

Another blow, this time at his abdomen, that made him double over in pain.

“Gojo-sensei! Are you okay?” Yuji gasped, checking to see if he was okay.

“Yeah, don’t worry! M’fine.” The teacher laughed it off, used to the feeling.

“You sure got an unlucky way of connecting with your soulmate.” Maki added.

He shrugged his shoulders. He was one of the strongest, if not the strongest sorcerers alive, he came from a rich family, had many friends at Jujutsu High and a never ending list of women of all kinds who would do everything to even go on a date with him! All in all, he considered himself lucky, yeah, maybe his parents hadn’t been the best, being married for convenience and not love, but his mother loved him and his sister was very dear to him.

Nonetheless, everyone who learned his way of connecting with his soulmate cringed sorrowfully, pitying him: he felt most, if not all, the pain his soulmate felt. Though it was probably the same for his other half, it really made his life more difficult. It was like they were constantly getting beaten up for some reason, while he tried in every way possible to not hurt himself as to not pain them more.

With his students, he was headed to the entry of Tokyo Jujutsu High School’s complex, where he would meet with the students and teachers from the Kyoto College.

He’d heard a new teacher had recently arrived, but he didn’t care about it much. He had resigned from trying to reach his soulmate a long time ago, after many years spent searching.

He had gotten quite tired, and decided it would be better to let fate do his own thing. Was he gonna meet his soulmate soon? Had he already met her? Was he ever going to meet her?

Those question remained unanswered, and the ‘soulmate’ case closed.

After a long walk, they’d finally reached the meeting point. He had never realized the grounds were so big…

They were met with the usual group: the two teachers Gakuganji and Utahime and the students Mai Zenin, Kasumi Mia, Noritoshi Kamo, Aoi Todo and Mono Nishimiya.

Gojo looked around, expecting to see another teacher, but was found with nobody else.

Not having to hear the question, Utahime had already answered: “The new teacher had… some jobs to finish. She should arrive this evening.”

“Oh, okay! Well, let’s head to the school grounds so we can have a proper catch up!” Gojo said happily, masking yet another strong blow, this time aimed to the back of his neck.

The trek in the Foothills of Mount Mushiro was unusually quiet.

Seeing Gojo’s confused expression, Utahime said: “The kids have grown quite attached to our new teacher. They’ll get back to normal once she’s back.” She told him calmly, almost as she was reassuring herself.

“So, what’s up with this new teacher?” Satoru couldn’t help but ask, interested in this new mysterious figure.

“I promised not to do any spoilers, but I’ll tell you this: she’s very patient and kind, even more than me. The only problem is, taking care of everybody else, she often forgets to look after herself, getting injured because of her Cursed Technique. That pretty much sums up her entire personality, so I think you two will get along nicely.”

“Oh so they’re a she?” Gojo implied, smirking.

Utahime rolled her eyes, chuckling.

“Anyways, it’s good to know we’ve got someone else on our side. I bet you care a lot about her.” He replied.

“We all do…”

The dinner was filled with the usual laughter and chaotic environment, created by the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event. Yet Gojo could sense something was off: while most of the students were able to fake it and enjoy their time, Utahime, Mai and Todo looked nervous and uptight, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, Mei Mei said, taken back: “She’s here.”

Mai and Todo sprinted towards the door, Utahime and the rest of he students following closely.

Even the old Yoshinobu had gotten up and was slowly heading towards the entrance door.

“Hellooo…Ahh!” Said an unfamiliar voice, before hearing a loud thump of bodies falling over.

“I swear if you ever scare us like that again, we will kill you. And that’s final.” Mai said to the unknown figure in a stern voice, opposed to her comforted look.

“Todo?” Asked the girl, searching for help.

“I’m on her side on this one.” Answered the black-haired boy.

“C’mon, not even you Utahime?” She asked again. Utahime raised her hands up, showing she was also on the green haired girl’s side.

“We’re glad you’re back, Y/n-sensei.” Said Kamo, offering a hand to get her up to her feet, while Yoshinobu simply nodded.

“We sure are!” Said Mika and Nishimiya, reaching for their teacher in a fond group hug.

‘So that’s the mysterious teacher…Y/n. That’s an unusual name, but I like it’ Gojo thought, heading to the new sensei to properly greet her.

“So you must be the new teacher everyone’s talking about!” Said Gojo.

“Y/n Y/Ln, it’s nice to meet you.” She replied.

“Gojo Satoru, and the pleasure is all mine.” Said the smug teacher, going for a simple handshake since he’d noticed her hands were entirely covered by black leather gloves.

‘The new teacher looked, weird. Not in a bad way though. She had silver straight hair, cut short just below her chin, with a huge side bang covering the left side of her face. Her eyes resembled her personality, a sparkly silver adorned by big lashes and complimented by a pair of thin brows of roughly the same color. She wasn’t short, but she was just around Utahime’s height, so the difference between her and Satori made her lift her chin upwards in a cute way, in order to face him directly. Her clothes were torn apart, leaving her in a black leather suit that covered her entire body, a neck warmer on her neck and chin and a belt with small weapons, matching gloves and combat steel-toe boots. She was full of cuts and what looked like blood and dirt and prominent a eye bag could be seen on her right side of the face.’ Gojo eyed her cautiously.

“Well, I’m sure you must be famished by now, so why don’t we go back to the dinner table and get a new seat for miss Y/Ln here.” Shoko interrupted the oncoming silence.

“Don’t worry. I was able to grab something to eat along the way. Nonetheless I’m very tired, so, if you don’t mind, I’ll head to my dorm to wash off the dirt and get some rest.” Y/n kindly turned down her offer.

“I’ll show you the dorms.” Utahime intervened, grabbing her by her arm with force.

“Don’t worry, I saw where they were com…” The silver haired girl tried to stop Utahime, but was met with an icy glare even Gojo had rarely seen on his ex-classmate’s features.

“I said I’m showing you the dorms. C’mon let’s go.” She ordered Y/n, who couldn’t do anything but comply, getting pitiful looks from her students.

The evening continued nonetheless, no sign of Utahime’s return.

‘That just means we’ll get to meet the new kid tomorrow’, Gojo shrugged it off.

The next day, Y/n was finally able to join the others for breakfast, having been patched up the night before by a very angry Utahime.

She knew what she had done the other day was risky, telling everybody to go so she could single-handedly defeat the three first grade curses, but she wasn’t gonna risk anyone else getting injured, that’s just who she was like.

She knew Utahime would’ve gotten furious and mad at her for making her worry and scolding her, but, in reality, she was happy knowing there were people who really cared about her well-being.

That morning she ate almost twice her daily portions: she had lied the day before, in fact, she hadn’t eaten anything since the past breakfast, but she didn’t want to intrude in the meal or, especially, she didn’t want to have to take off her gloves or any other part of her suit to eat.

Underneath all that fabric, her body was constantly full of bruises and cuts, which concentrated on her arms and the cause was her Cursed Technique.

YOUR (Y/N’S) POV

“Soo, Y/Ln. How are you feeling? You looked pretty rough last day.” Gojo tried to initiate a conversation with you, after you’d finished eating and were casually strolling around the campus to show you were all the main facilities were located.

“I’m fine, thanks. And please, call me Y/n.” You responded, smiling.

“That goes for me too. Anyways, I’m glad you’re doing good, you should’ve seen your students and co-teachers yesterday, they were worried sick.” He replied.

“I’m sure they were.”

“Well, you got me curious. What happened?” He asked, trying to not invade your privacy but at the same time get to know you more.

“Let’s just say, on our way here, we got caught up with some curses. They weren’t that strong, but I decided to finish the job myself while the others came here.” You answered.

“What grade were they? What do you mean by some?” He questioned you.

“They were…three first grades.” You said, a bit embarrassed for some reason.

“What? I mean, wow! You managed to take them all out on your own! I don’t mean to come as judgy or stuff, but when they’d told me a new teacher had arrived at Kyoto High, I didn’t really expect someone that strong.” He said, shocked.

“Thanks, I guess…? I kinda get that a lot!” You replied, chuckling to yourself and shoving your hands in your pockets.

You wore a simple navy blue hoodie and black tight jeans with a pair of white and blue sneakers with silver gloves covering your hands.

You had always been very insecure about your scars, being basically covered in scratches and those squiggly white lines. When you didn’t wear gloves or you exposed your scars in any way, you always got weird or pitiful stares from those around you, so, a couple of years ago, you’d decided it would be in your best interest to hide them.

You started absentmindedly fidgeting with your necklace, until Gojo interrupted you in your actions: “What’s up with the gloves? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You were used to people asking that type of questions, so you replied how you usually did: “My hands get cold.”

He stared at you, unamused. Many people figured that was a lie, but they usually dropped the topic at your response. Instead, he questioned you further: “Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes, not knowing if you were more irritated or amused by his investigative nature. All your friends knew about it, and he looked like a pretty chill guy, so, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him.

“Okay, fine. It’s because of my Cursed Technique. It’s called Glass Veil.”

He seemed intrigued by it, asking you: “I’ve never heard of it before. How does it work?” 

You decided to explain it further: “it’s exactly what it sounds like. I create barriers made of transparent, glass-like cursed energy. They can reflect attacks, bend light to make me invisible, or distort space to create mirages. Sounds great, right? Yeah, well, here’s the catch. My defenses aren’t invincible—if an attack is too strong, the barriers shatter, and I feel every bit of that damage. Cuts, energy recoil, you name it. And if I try to reflect something too powerful? My own body starts breaking down from the strain. Oh, and those mirages? They don’t just mess with my enemies—they mess with me too. Use too many, and suddenly, I can’t tell what’s real anymore. If I push myself too hard, my entire technique collapses like shattered glass—leaving me completely defenseless. So yeah… it’s powerful, but if I’m not careful? It’ll kill me before my opponent even gets the chance.”

He looked at you, amazed. “Woah. I didn’t know techniques like that existed. I’m sorry for you though, it must hurt when you fight.”

“Yeah, well, you get used to it.”

“You know you shouldn’t. You should ask for help if fighting off curses becomes a threat to your safety.” He scolded you.

“Thanks…I-I mean, I don’t know what to say. I really appreciate it, Satoru.” Yes, you had many friends that worried about you, but this felt different. You were happy to know you’d made a new friend. After knowing how your technique worked, most tried to change the argument or make it about themselves, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong.

“But hey, enough about me. What do you have to tell me?” You asked.

“Well, I think you know pretty well how my Cursed Techniques work.” Gojo replied.

“Yeah, but, I’d like to hear more about how you manage to use them.” You inquired further.

“Okay, so, basically…” He had looked surprised at first, but in the end, started telling you everything. He talked to you about the basics of his techniques, then began to trail off about how he’d learned them and how he used them in fights. You’d talked so much it had already become lunch time, when, somehow, the topic became the thing you feared the most: soulmates.

You’d heard of all types of ways someone is connected to his soulmate and finds him, there were the most romantic ones, like where the other’s first sentence to you is written on your forearm; the more unique ones, where one would switch bodies with the other on a certain date; or the more creative ones where flowers sprouted in the point the other would first touch you or bump into you. You’d read so many books about it, wondering if you’d ever be able to find your soulmate.

You’d tried anything, yet you never found any red strings, or markings on your skin.

The main difficulty was, you didn’t have any signs of knowing if your soulmate was alive or not. I mean, you sometimes felt intense pain in parts of your body, but you were convinced it was simply because of your Cursed Technique and how you often over-worked yourself, which looked like a pretty good explanation for those around you.

“Do you have a soulmate?” Gojo asked, coming to a stop.

You were in front of a beautiful lake with the sun and a soft breeze helping you relax.

“Not that I know of. They might as well be dead or have never existed. I never got any signs actually.” You said, voice lowering.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Satoru said, staring at his shoes sadly.

“What about you? I’m sure you got a beautiful lady or dude waiting for you at home.” You shrugged off the heavy burden that had weighed on your shoulders since forever.

“Pft. I wish!” He replied.

“Wait really? Did you get any signs?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I can feel part of their pain, at least the physical one.” He said, chuckling.

“Oof, that must be painful!” You said.

“Yes, it is. I just wish I could find her, or him for that matter. I’ve been searching for years.” He confessed you.

You went to give him a pat on the back, telling him encouragingly: “I’m sure you’ll find them, sooner or later. I may have not known you for much, but you seem like a pretty good guy, and after all you’ve done as a Sorcerer, you deserve to have a happy ending more than anyone.

He looked taken back at your words and hugged you tightly, crying a bit in your sweater.

You caressed his broad shoulders, giving him small reassuring pats, and telling him not to worry, your heart subtly breaking at his broken state.

Breaking the hug, he wiped his eyes and sniffed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from him with his confessions.

Grabbing a tissue from your pockets, you wiped his beautiful eyes, getting lost in them for a second.

You then offered it to him to blow his nose, and he took it gratefully, thanking you.

“Blimey, it’s already 1:15 p.m.! We’re late for lunch!” You said panicked, looking at his watch.

Laughing, he took his hand in yours with a nonchalant: “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

In the blink of an eye, you’d been teleported right outside the dining hall, where he kindly opened the door for you and held it in a very gentlemanly way.

Thanking him, you quickly reached your seat at the table, in between Mai and Utahime, who both wore the same scolding look as ever, to which you replied with a tight lipped smile.

That afternoon, the students’ training was planned, in order to make the last preparations before the competition days.

You sat on a bench near the practice grounds with Gojo, asking him about his students and their cursed techniques.

The day ended quickly, and you soon sent all your students off to bed, in order to regain all their strength back with a good night’s sleep and be in perfect shape for tomorrow’s team competition.

The next day, tension filled the air heavily and all the students were silent, reorganizing their mind and thinking about the strategies they had  practiced yesterday.

You didn’t know what the Tokyo students had in mind, but with your students you had elaborated an intricate and intelligent plan that used everyone’s abilities: Mono would be the jolly, controlling from above on her flying broomstick the situation and occasionally helping on the grounds, Miwa would work in pair with Mekamaru, focusing on the trio formed by Panda, Yuta and Inumaki; Todo had taken upon himself the responsibility of Yuji Itadori; Kamo would concentrate on Megumi and Mai on Nobara and Maki.

You’d explicitly told them not to engage combat unless needed, focusing on the task at hand, which consisted of killing 14 curses scattered across the forests of Mount Mushiro.

You teachers were to gather in the main classroom, where you would know what your students were doing thanks to Mei Mei’s crows.

To say you were anxious was an understatement, but Utahime told you to calm down and that everything was under control in case something went wrong.

The teams had until midday to defeat the curses, and then the team with the most points would’ve won.

Everything was going smoothly, the teams having killed 6 curses each and not fighting against each other too much.

That was, until Mei Mei lost contact with her crows. It was obvious someone, or something, had killed them.

You immediately panicked, scared your students could get hurt by what had finished Mei’s crows. The other teachers were on alert as well, instantly dividing their jobs between who would rescue the kids and who was going to fight off the curse.

Mei Mei had been able to get back one crow, which helped you all realize the problem at hand: there were around 5 special grade curses and many lower-grade curses.

You had planned for Gojo, Yaga, Yoshinobu and Mei to fight off the curses while Utahime, Nanami and Shoko were going to help the students.

They were going to divide themselves into groups for the different areas of the High School: Gojo and Mei would take the eastern side of Mount Mushiro, Yaga and Yoshinobu the Western. There was only the section surrounding the dormitories left, but before you could offer yourself for the job, Utahime grabbed you by the wrist: “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” You scoffed.

“You’re not joining the fight, you’re already injured.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You replied cockily.

“You don’t get to choose after all your reckless decisions.” She shouted back, the room going silent.

“They’re my students too, so if you think I’m just gonna sit here while they risk their lives out there, then you’re wrong.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Hey Utahime, calm down. We know you’re right but we have other things to discuss right now.” Gojo tried to make the girl relax.

“No you shut up! Y/n don’t you dare step out of that room! Do you understand me?” She said.

“I already told you I’m going and there’s no stopping me!” You replied, moments away from becoming the angriest you had ever been.

Impatient, she lashed out at your insolence:“YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” You yelled back, the words slipping out of your mouth before you were able to register it.

Everybody’s heads turned to you, making you feel uncomfortable, so you decided to just go outside and do your job: “I’m going to fight the curses located near the dormitory, if someone else has got anything to say, tell it to the wall, at least it may listen.”

You shut the door loudly behind you, not caring about their shocked expressions or Utahime’s blank stare: you were utterly furious, who was she to tell you what to do? You were a grown-up sorcerer, you knew the risks of your job. She had no reason to lash out at you that way, she may have been worried, but it’s still your students we’re talking about; besides, your bruises had already completely healed and you were well-rested.

Thinking back to it, though, you felt sorry to have screamed at her, she hadn’t deserved it: she was only worried about you, but it sometimes got too much; you would apologize later.

You started running to the site in the uncomfortable sweater. You certainly hadn’t expected an attack that day, so the outfit wasn’t the most appropriate: you wore a baggy pink hoodie with a plain black sports Bra underneath and a matching pair of black leggings with your usual boots and gloves.

Along the way, you met a few small curses, bringing them down one by one without even having to use your powers, slicing them in parts with the small knives hid in the boots.

Reaching the dormitories, everything seemed oddly quiet and ordinary around you, until you sensed a tremor in the ground.

What was happening? You looked around as the ground rumbled and shook, a huge crack filled with water opening a few feet away from you. Out of the blue (literally), emerged a towering, humanoid figure with a body made of black, swirling water, deep-sea corals, and glowing abyssal fish embedded in its skin, its face masked by an eerie, translucent jellyfish-like veil.

You rapidly formed a glass shield around you to protect you from the high-speed water whips that came from the creature’s limbs.

You didn’t recount ever facing a curse like this before, but you figured it was nature-based.

In the bat of an eye, the whips started coming from all directions, rendering you unable to do anything but protect yourself in any way you could.

You formed a glass sphere around you, in order to get complete coverage while you studied the curse’s powers and thought of a plan to end him.

However, you weren’t given the time to think, as a water field surrounded your figure, pressure rising at unmatchable speed while the temperature and the oxygen decreased.

You had to be swift: you were already in a glass bell-like structure, where the oxygen would’ve run out quickly, so your biggest issue at the moment was to keep breathing.

Feeling another tidal wave coming to hit you, you made up a fallback plan, using the strong force to make the glass bell explode from within, sending shards of glasses flying and temporarily stopping the curse from attacking you because of the great quantity of cursed energy that had hit him.

You regained fighting stance in that short period of time, but weren’t able to react as another huge wave crashed over you, swallowing you whole. It would’ve been useless to create another shield, as it would’ve shattered in pieces, causing you severe feedback injuries and tiring you even more in the effort.

You felt like you were in a maelstrom, unable to breath and consequentially think properly, losing consciousness against the high pressure and not feeling your limbs because of the intense cold that had surrounded you.

You regained your vision, once the curse had stabilized the whirlpool in front of him and cleared a small tunnel, barely big enough for you to start breathing again.

He smirked at your unresponsiveness, your head throbbing and heavy: what if Utahime was right? Maybe you shouldn’t have come here, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to save your students, becoming a dead-weight to the other sorcerers who could actually provide help to those in need. Maybe you weren’t enough and you shouldn’t have ever considered becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. You should’ve stayed with your parents, attended a good school and got a financially rewarding job, ignoring the monsters you saw while walking around the city center and forgetting about the small light balls you had been able to create since you were a kid.

You could’ve prevented this, but deep down, you had always known it: you were born alone and you were going to die alone. You couldn’t wish for your friends or family’s help: your family loved you dearly, but, not being sorcerers, they didn’t understand you; Utahime and the rest of Kyoto’s sorcerers only took you under their wing out of pity, nobody saw you as anything else but a loner who liked hurting herself. You weren’t going to have a happy ending like Gojo or Utahime deserved, you were never going to find your soulmate.

Accepting your fate, a smile found its way onto your cracked lips, tears flowing freely from your eyes and merging with the surrounding water.

“I knew you were an easy prey the moment I saw you. How could anybody this helpless become a sorcerer? If you’re afraid of your own looks, how do you expect to be able to save everybody? You can’t fight! You were never meant to become a sorcerer, you’re just a harmless little girl who’ll die alone and unloved, forgotten by her very own friends and family.”

You knew it was the end, yet you weren’t scared. Exhaustion took over you as the Abyssal Curse, ‘Shinkai’, as you remembered him from a book in Kyoto’s library, ultimated his domain expansion: The Midnight Trench.

Suddenly, you were surrounded by void, you started struggling to breath, lungs feeling flooded and bones crushing under the increased water pressure and cursed energy barriers.

Then, a group of sea-monsters like you’d never encountered before, attacked you, devouring you from limb to limb, ripping your body to pieces as your mind felt like it was about to explode.

You saw your friends’ faces and your past’s happy memories started filling your head: you saw your parents bringing you for the first time at a Luna Park, Utahime comforting you after a bad training, Shoko curing your cuts, Mai and Todo offering you your very first Takoyaki, Gojo hugging you so tightly you felt like you couldn’t breath…

You couldn’t breath. YOU COULDN’T BREATH!

You had to get out of here, you were too young to die! You still had to save your students, find a real purpose in life, make your family and friends proud and happy but, most importantly, you had to find your soulmate! You couldn’t let your family, Utahime or your other colleagues down and you had to prove the curse wrong: you could fight and you sure as heck were going to!

You tried to remember what you had read about this particular curse: their domain expansion was characterized by hallucinations like the one you were having right now. You concentrated on your powers, when immediately a thought came to your mind, making you laugh: ‘You were the one who created mirage-like illusions! This curse had no chance against you whilst it used your own cursed technique!’

Simultaneously, you created a new mirage of yourself and made the real you invisible, thanks to the small light that reflected into the oceanic void.

As the curse started attacking the illusion, you saw a ray of sunshine from above: that was it! You’d found an exit!

You decided it was time to test that little gadget Mechamaru had built inside your boots: clicking a small button, a soft gush of wind came out from your soles, slowly lifting you in the air.

A soft breeze caressed your face, body warming with the sun rays, clean air filling your lungs: you had made it out! Concentrating on what you had to do now, you suppressed temporarily your ecstasy, knowing it wouldn’t have taken long for the curse to discover the deception.

You remembered these kind of curses usually took their cursed energy from water sources they couldn’t depart from, unless they didn’t mind losing a substantial portion of their powers.

Looking around, you noticed how a blue gluey trail connected the curse, still focused on their small domain, to a water fountain near the dormitory.

Sprinting towards it with all the strength you had left, you closed the pipe in order to stop the water from running and cutting off Shinkai’s water source.

The curse visibly tumbled, the energy they had previously used for their techniques and domain being drained from their body.

“Hah! You escaped, you insolent little girl. I should’ve known. Well, what are we gonna do now?”

You kept silent and invisible, circling him as he kept his back on you, eyes trained where the whirlpool had been until seconds ago.

Having reached the perfect spot, you revealed yourself: “I’ll kill you and all your stupid friends.”

“I’d like to see you t…”

His sentence was cut short by you slicing his head off with a sword made out of light.

The Jelly sphere rolled onto the ground, the body collapsing on itself and becoming a pool of suspiciously dark water, before evaporating completely.

You sighed, but the happiness was shortly lived.

Not only were the grounds near the dormitory a complete mess, but also you were full of cuts and bruises, your head so heavy it felt like it was about to fall off.

On your right arm, a huge gash had appeared, blood dripping copiously and drenching your torn apart hoodie. You decided to take it off, ripping a piece with which you would have wrapped your forearm, and throwing away the remaining pieces, leaving yourself in the sports bra.

Your legs and abdomen weren’t in a much better state, clothes ripped to pieces because of the explosion you’d created at the start of the fight, and you were thankful you couldn’t take a look at your back even if you wanted to, knowing it was probably reduced even worse than your front.

Not finding anyone near your position, you headed towards Mount Mushiro, were most of the students were located, along with the teachers and the curses.

You put one foot in front of the other, trying not to let your dizziness get the best of you, when pain shot in your left leg, as if you’d twisted it badly. Soon, you felt the same pain on your back and your left arm, falling to your knees as you gasped for air. It didn’t come from your cuts; it was different, like it came from the inside. You got a sense of deja-vu…Had you ever felt like this before? You were sure you had. All of a sudden, you remembered the mysterious pain you’d felt many times when you were younger.

As everything clicked into place, your conversation about soulmates with Satoru flashed in front of your eyes. You fought back the joyous tears that threatened to spill from your bruised eyes, a ray of hope appearing in your mind. Had you found your soulmate? If so, what did the pain mean? Was he okay? A sense of worry and anxiety washed over you, as you ran up the stairs of Mount Mushiro, heading to where loud battle noises came from, your heart beat increasing rapidly.

Not wasting any time, you bolted towards Gojo’s location, relieved at the vision of him beat up, but with the same smirk as ever. A huge dead curse’s body rotting behind his glorious figure.

Before coming out of the woods, a small voice in the back of your mind remembered you your scars were all exposed by then to anybody who looked in your way. What was he gonna think of you? Would he repel you for your looks? Would he hate you and be disgusted by you forever, not giving you a chance to prove your theory?

But then, you stopped listening. You stopped listening to the small devil that had haunted your past since you’d discovered your cursed technique, reminding you about how you didn’t fit in and weren’t liked by anyone.

You decided you were done giving in to your fears and letting them win over you: you only decided how you were going to live your life, and you sure as hell didn’t eat to hide your true self ever since, if you could.

Feeling free from the Cains you’d bound yourself to, you jolted towards an oblivious Satoru in a hug that sent you both flying on the ground.

“What the…?”

A confused look passed his face, soon followed by a mix of anger, worry and relief.

“What did you think you were doing? Running off alone to challenge a special grade? Are you freaking insane? You’re hurt! You shouldn’t…”

Sensing something was wrong, he halted in his words.

You were a complete wreck, full of blood and dirt, sobbing incessantly and body shaking feverishly, your hands gripping his suit like he was going to fly away any time, yet a sincere smile painting your features like a small kid who’s been gifted candy.

“Hey, hey. Shh, shhh. Don’t cry, it’s okay! I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine!” He soothed you, caressing your bare back with his left hand, holding you tightly with the other hand, still sat on the ground.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” He asked in a patient, father-like tone.

You slowed down your sobs and trembling, sniffing every minute or so, your throat feeling dry and blocked.

Not enough brave to look at him in the eyes, you asked him: “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” He answered, lifting your chin up in order to look at you in the eyes.

Your side bang had moved behind your ear, revealing an ugly scar that ran across the left side of her face, from her eyebrow, along her eyelid, to her rosy cheek, wet with tears.

You had chosen that haircut specifically to hide that repulsing scar, yet, when he saw it, he didn’t flinch or appear disgusted. Rather than that, he looked…intrigued, almost happy to have seen a side of you you usually hid from others.

He’d also noticed how you didn’t have your hoodie or your gloves anymore, and he felt somehow relieved: you trusted him. Besides, to him, you’d never looked more attractive.

“Turn your infinity off.” It wasn’t meant to sound like an order, but to Gojo it seemed rather bossy, yet, confused, he complied nonetheless.

As you felt your skin touch, for the first time ever, a warm chill rand down your spine and a burnt feeling spread across your left hand’s ring finger, where a marking had appeared: ‘Satoru Gojo’.

He looked at his hand, finding the same marking as yours, but with your name written instead.

He stared at you lovingly, contemplating whether to kiss you or not.

He recounted the years spent searching for you, the pain he had felt and the loneliness that had graved on him until the day he’d met you, deciding to go for it.

You were both dirty and stinky, though it still somehow felt beautiful, more than you could’ve ever imagined.

It was slow and passionate, full of raw emotions that couldn’t be kept at bay anymore.

Finally, as you two detached, a new feeling washed over you, one you’d never felt before: love.

You’d finally found your soulmate, as he’d found you, and you knew you would both love each other to whatever end.

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