#that's a lot of words for something i'm not writing

[cosmic-whispers]

When I'm Above the Trees - Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: Heather Collins sees a lot. She sees how Robby is with you. And how you are with him. And she watches you fall in love. A story of heartbreak, healing, and moving on. Inspired by happiness by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: Collins pov (she is NOT villianized in this, but it’s v angsty for her but with a hopeful ending), fem!reader/robby endgame (age gap mentioned, not specified), attending!reader, mention of attempted suicide patient, violence against healthcare workers, jealousy/self-worth issues/insecurity, medical inaccuracies, no use of y/n

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Hi, coming out of writing retirement with this little fic because I’m in love with this man. This is my first go at writing for the pitt, so please let me know what you think! The news from earlier this week about Tracy was very disappointing. Collins was amazing and deserves the world, and it makes me sad that we won't see her again.

In hindsight, she was blinded. It was obvious, right from the beginning. 

When you were first hired on as the new attending at PTMC a few months ago, Heather actually liked you. You were young, had been an attending for just a year before joining the Pitt, but you were eager, kind, and wickedly smart. You were attentive, patient, and listened to everyone’s concerns. You naturally navigated towards Robby. You were both the day shift attendings, you bounced ideas off each other. That wasn’t surprising to Heather. He was an extraordinary doctor, fascinating and full of experience and advice. 

You asked interesting questions, encouraged his ramblings. You challenged him in ways no one else dared to–questioning his judgements with patients. You never did it in a rude or condescending way, you were genuine in your curiosity and your input was valued by everyone. Including Robby. That was surprising to Heather at first–he never liked his medical opinions being questioned. But he let you do it. Maybe you were able to get away with it because you were an attending. Maybe because the patient satisfaction scores increased after you started working there and he valued your opinion. 

But Robby’s patience was short. He was quick to get frustrated, throw a sarcastic comment, and run away from anything that wasn’t medicine. Heather knew that all too well. She had been close to him once. She shared love with him once. But, as it always happened with Robby, his lack of communication, brutal sarcasm, and steel-enforced emotional walls drove her away. It drove most people away. 

But you were not like most people. 

You were patient, stubborn, and unwilling to take no for an answer if you knew there was something you could do to help someone. You listened. Without judgement, without expectation. And it was exactly what Robby needed. A friend. Robby opening up was rare, something that he had outright refused to do in the past and something she had begged him to do for years. It made something ache in her chest that it wasn’t with her, but she was grateful that he had someone. 

She didn’t realize when it became more than what she thought it was. 

She didn’t realize it when he insisted you be at his side for the attempted suicide victim that came into the hospital one Wednesday evening. She had noticed previously that suicide cases were particularly hard for you. You never said anything, and she never asked. But Robby seemed to know and he stayed by your side the entire time. She saw how proud he was of you after the patient was stabilized.

Not when a car accident victim came in and she saw you both working on the patient like a well-oiled machine. You both knew what the other was going to say before you had even opened your mouths. She saw the way Mohan and Mel looked between the two of you in awe–two people completely in their element and tuned to the same frequency.

Not when a patient came in whose lungs weren’t able to provide enough oxygen after catching COVID. She saw Robby’s chest shake in restrained spain when the patient ended up coding. Heather knew he was thinking about Adamson. He walked away without saying a word, disappearing around the corner. She thought about going after him, but noticed you following close behind. 

She assumed it was a friend comforting a friend. 

But she didn’t witness that summer evening on the roof where Robby hugged you so tight you thought he might bruise you. She didn’t witness the moment the shine returned to his brown eyes and he finally let go of whatever was holding him back from you. She didn’t witness how he kissed you with so much passion and tenderness and devotion. 

She didn’t witness the quiet moments late at night in his apartment in the following months–you and him, cuddled in bed naked, and Robby, so unlike himself, rambling on and on about every thought, fear, and insecurity in his head without any hesitation. 

She didn’t know. 

To Heather, you were just his friend. 

To Heather, he was still her chance. 

Her chance to have a family, to have a baby. To create the life she had always dreamed of. And in her dreams, Robby was still the man standing next to her. 

Until that day in August. 

The massive heatwave raging through Pittsburgh was bad enough, the large influx of patients with heat strokes and rashes and sunburns, on top of the usual flow in the ED made it a terrible day for every healthcare worker and patient alike. It seemed like everyone was wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. 

A patient had come in, screaming and panicked, a stab wound to the shoulder and you took him into a treatment room. Heather could hear him cursing from the nurses station. 

“You fucking bitch, that fucking hurts!”

Heather glanced into the room, seeing the knife still embedded in the man’s shoulder. You were applying what she assumed was lidocaine on the stab site. From what she could tell, his vitals were good and you were stabilizing him for scans. 

“You’ll feel it start to numb you shortly, Mr. Gale,” you said, patient as always. “It should only burn for a moment.”

He grabbed your arm, his strong grip pinching your skin. “Get this fucking knife out of me!”

Heather stood immediately, moving toward the room. Mateo was already there, trying to step in between the two of you. 

“Let her go, man.”

“Mr. Gale, if I remove the knife, it can cause you to bleed out. We need to do scans to be able to best determine how to help you,” you explained.

“Mr. Gale,” Heather said, getting the man’s attention. “She’s right. We need to be able to assess the wound before pulling out the knife. Please, let her go.”

“NO! I’m in pain, I got fucking stabbed, and you’re not helping me!” The man was panicking and started pulling at your arm harder. Heather looked back at the nurses station and made eye contact with Dana, who was already looking their way in concern. ‘Security,’ she mouthed and Dana nodded. 

“Sir–” Mateo started to speak, before the man, in his panicked state, grabbed the hilt of the knife and pulled it out. The three of you watched in shock as blood began spurting from the wound, landing on your scrubs, and he swung at you, slicing the skin on your arm. You screamed in pain, causing him to let go. He ran toward Heather, who he pushed against the doorframe, and ran out of the room. 

She rubbed her arm where she hit it, and looked back as the man was tackled down by who she thought was security. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth agape. 

It wasn’t Ahmad. It was Robby. 

Robby, who was always restrained and stoic and showed his anger in sarcastic quips rather than physical violence, tackled a man with a knife in his hands. She felt rooted to the spot as she watched the patient struggle against Robby’s grip. The knife had slid out of the man’s hand and Robby was holding him down on the floor, pinning him down with his hands against his shoulders and a knee on his lower back. The man continued to try to fight him off, but Heather could tell he was weakening from the blood loss. 

She looked around, noticing shocked faces of the residents who were all staring at Robby. Perlah and Princess were whispering to each other in a corner, looking between Robby and the room you were in. 

Ahmad came sprinting from around the corner and Robby immediately got up, rushing towards her. Heather’s spine straightened and she was about to tell him that she was ok, until he moved past her and into the treatment room. She turned, her gaze following his back as he made his way straight to you. 

She felt something physically crack beneath her ribs and she swallowed the lump that swelled at her throat. She felt…unimportant. Disregarded. 

She looked at you, tears lining your eyes but still composed as always. Mateo was applying pressure to the wound on your arm. Heather backed away, far enough to be out of the way, but close enough that she could still watch. It was masochistic–the sight before her continued to make her chest feel tight and eyes feel warm, but she couldn’t look away. 

“How’s your pain level?” Robby asked you, peeling away the gauze Mateo had been using and assessing the wound. 

“Not high. It doesn’t seem that deep,” you answered, your voice unusually low and quiet. Your hands were shaking, in adrenaline or fear, and Heather did not miss your uninjured hand reaching for Robby’s and squeezing him. He stared at you for a moment too long and let go of a shuddering breath. 

“Just some stitches,” he said, voice low. “I thought…I heard you scream and I lost it. I wanted to kill him.”

Heather was shocked. At the intimacy of the moment, how close you were sitting, how tender he was being with you. 

“I know, but I’m ok,” you said as Robby started gathering everything he needed for your stitches. 

“Get her an IV, we’ll start some antibiotics,” he said to Mateo and the two of them moved fast through the process. You winced when he injected the lidocaine and Robby whispered something low to you that Heather couldn’t hear, but it made you laugh.

“Gale is HIV negative,” Mateo said, reading the patient’s chart. 

“Good. We’ll still start you on PEP right away, just in case,” Robby said and you nodded. 

They continued treating your injury and Heather stood there. Unmoving. Watching.

Watching the familiar way his arms tightened around your waist and cradled your head to his chest once he was done with the stitches and Mateo had left. He leaned his head on yours and she could see his hands shaking where they rested on your back. Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, holding him close to you and you whispered something in his ear–maybe a thank you or a reassurance. And he chuckled, leaning down and kissing your forehead quickly before letting go of you. 

She knew she was intruding, but her legs wouldn’t move. She had never seen Robby like that. He was always restrained, unwilling to be anything but controlled in front of anyone. But here he was. Grasping your hands as you separated and smiling at you before his eyes flickered back to your arm, making sure you were alright. He looked at you like you were the only thing that could make him smile, the only thing that mattered to him…like he loved you. She couldn’t remember if he ever looked at her like that. 

You took a deep breath and stepped away from him, turning and walking away from the room. 

“You know you’re going home, right?” he asked, walking behind you. 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a scratch, Robby. I’m staying.”

You looked up and your eyes met Heather’s for a moment. 

“Hey, Collins. Are you ok? I saw him push you.” Your concern was genuine and it made Heather feel almost nauseous. 

“I’m fine. Not even a scratch. I’m glad you’re ok,” she said and managed to keep her tone even and calm. 

“Thank God! Thank you for coming to help,” you said, smiling kindly at her. She glanced behind you to Robby, who was still hovering behind you. He was staring at you, like there was no one else in the room. It made her heart burn and she forced a smile on her face as she looked back at you. 

“Of course,” she said and walked away, unable to look at you and him for another moment. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about her dream. In her fantasies, it was still eight years ago. She was waking up with Robby’s strong arms around her, caressing her pregnant belly. It haunted her mind, constantly. At home, where she had too much time to daydream. At work, where she had to bite her tongue every time he saw you with him. The ugly, raging thing inside her chest grew larger every day, and she knew it was a matter of time before it exploded out of her. 

It was barely 7 am, day shift was trickling in for their shift. She saw Robby and Abbot finishing their conversation, with the night shift attending clapping Robby on the shoulder and walking away. She gazed towards you as you walked in. You were heading into the lounge, your bag still strung over your shoulder and you smiled at Santos as she walked in behind you. 

She slowly approached Robby, who was gazing down at the tablet in his hand. 

“Hey.”

Robby quickly glanced at her over his glasses. “Morning.”

She hesitated for a moment, but managed to force the words out of her. “You have a moment to talk?”

He was looking at her now and she wanted to smile. His attention was on her. He almost looked concerned. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yes, it’s just something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” She motioned towards the ambulance bay and began walking out, Robby following close behind her. She made it outside and rounded the corner for some privacy. He stood before her, glasses still perched on his nose and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. He felt so familiar to her, like no time had passed since the last time she felt like this for him. 

She took a deep breath and spoke before her nerve died. “Robby… I still have feelings for you.”

The silence that followed was deafening and seemed to drag on for hours. She looked at him expectantly, her smile diminishing as the seconds dragged on and he didn’t react. He looked off to the side and took a few deep breaths before looking back at her, seemingly deciding what to say. 

“Heather, why would you say that to me?” 

She was taken aback. 

“Because it’s how I feel.”

“I…it’s been years. Things have changed…What did you expect to happen?” he said, his eyebrows furrowed. His deep brown eyes looked almost sad as they bored into her. 

“Robby…things can be like they used to. Better.” Especially since she had heard from Dana that Robby was finally in therapy. She didn’t think too hard about what or who convinced him to do that. 

“Heather, it’s too late,” he said, voice low and careful. “If you had come to me a year ago with this I would have jumped at the chance, but I’m not in the same place in my life. A lot of my past…I’ve healed. I’ve learned to move on from the pain and,” he hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And I found someone to help me through that.”

Heather whispered your name. He nodded, eyebrows furrowed, face serious. She looked down, feeling tears burning in the corners of her eyes. 

“I didn’t realize it was like that. That you’d move on so quickly.” Her voice quivered as she spoke and she cursed herself for feeling so foolish. So angry and sad and embarrassed. 

“Quickly? Heather, I spent years regretting what happened between us. Years wishing I could have you back in my life, but thinking I wasn’t good enough for you. Or anyone.” His hands rubbed over his face and took a step away from her. He chuckled, humorless and sad. “You know I went to therapy? You always begged me to, and I feel like shit knowing that I never did because of my pride. But…”

But he did it for you. He didn’t have to say it. 

“I wanted you for years. A life with you. But not anymore.”

She couldn’t stop the sob that bubbled out of her. “Why can’t you want that now?”

“You know why. I'm sorry, Heather, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his hand landing on her shoulder, trying to keep his distance but still comfort her at the same time. “I care about you. I always will. But she’s…she’s everything.”

She didn’t find it fair. You only knew him for a few months. She knew him for years. She had seen him at his lowest moments, yet you were the one to help him heal through it. You were the one he was willing to change for. She wanted to scream at him that he was being cruel, but she knew that he wasn’t.

“It feels like you’re choosing her over me. When we've been through so much together. When I’m the one who’s known you longer.”

“But you never understood me. Not the way I needed you to. And that’s partly my fault for not opening up to you,” he said. 

She didn’t understand him the way you understood him. It was unspoken, but they both knew it. 

“It's not fair.”

“No, it’s not. We missed our chance. But…Heather, you have to move on.”

She nodded, wiping the tears off her face and straightening her spine. “Alright.”

“Are you going to be ok?” He asked her and she forced another fake smile on her face. She didn’t know if he could still tell if it was real or not. 

“You know I will.”

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and walked away, piercing a hole straight through her heart. She watched him walk away, towards the nurses station where you stood. You were smiling, talking with Dana quietly before your shift officially began. Robby approached you, his hand landing on your lower back and you looked up at him, your grin growing and eyes shining. And him…

The way he was holding you…looking at you. The certainty and devotion in his gaze. A look in his eye that had never existed before you. He was in love. 

She could see it now. 

Her heart split in two, knowing the future she had pictured in her mind—Robby at her side—would never be a reality. Not with her. The baby she imagined would never have his warm, brown eyes or his charming nose. Or his smile. Maybe in another lifetime, maybe if you had never shown up in Pittsburgh. Maybe if she had loved him better back when they were together. 

She loved Robby and wanted him to be happy. That’s all she ever wanted for him. And he was happy with you. Despite her jealousy, she wondered what it was like for you. What he was like with you. Did he cuddle with you? He always used to grumble when Heather would ask him to cuddle saying that he got way too overheated. Did he complain about that to you? Or did he do it without complaint just to be able to hold you close to him? Did he cook his incredible latkes for you? Did you cook for him?

She didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. She didn’t know him like that anymore. But she knew that he opened up to you in a way he didn’t open up to anyone. He let you comfort him after difficult cases, shared long conversations that she only knew existed through brief glances through the window in the break room door. She knew that he was more affectionate and open with you in public than he had been with her. That he was willing to put his medical license on the line and attack a patient because they hurt you. He was healing with you… for you. 

She had no right to feel jealous. The ache in her heart changed as she realized that her and Robby were nothing but a pretty dream. And that it was her turn to heal. 

With the vision of what could never be lingering in her mind, she knew Robby was right. It was time to move on. 

It was difficult. At first. 

You all worked together. It was like a nightmare she could never escape. 

You were everywhere. 

And Robby. He lingered around you and you around him. He did silly things to make you laugh and lent you his sweaters when it got too cold. He gave you secret smiles and held your hand when a case hit you too hard. 

He remained professional with her, continuing to help Heather with her education. He wasn’t avoiding her, he was answering her questions, and he continued to value her medical opinion. But it was awkward now, a weird tension in every interaction. All she could feel was the burning ache of rejection and jealousy. 

Anger. At him. At you. 

It wasn’t warranted. She knew that. But she couldn’t help but feel that way. Every touch, every look, every soft whisper you shared was like a spear to her heart. She tried to look further into every interaction, trying to convince herself that she still knew Michael. Not Dr. Robinavitch. It made her frustrated, trying to move on but feeling stuck in time and lost at the same time. 

Why? Why you? Why was she not enough for him when they were together? Why wasn’t she enough for him now?

Why couldn’t she be the one that made him smile more often, or the one making him laugh when she shared an inside joke? It was you. You made him…lighter. 

Neither of you were particularly trying to hide it. While nothing outright happened, lingering touches and glances and smiles were noticed by more than just Heather. There was a betting pool about whether you and Robby were already together and if not, when it would happen. She noticed the others trying to avoid the subject around her, but it was inevitable. She had ended up joining the pool just to get everyone to stop looking at her with pity.

It was a shockingly slow morning. Heather was at the computer, catching up on her charting and making up to date notes for her patients when Dana approached her. 

“Hey, Collins. Have you seen sad boy and sunshine?”

She didn’t have to ask Dana who she was talking about. 

“Who knows?” She shrugged and continued charting.

She felt Dana’s stare on the side of her face and she tried as hard as she could to keep her features calm.

“You ok, kid?” Dana asked and Heather, composed as always, just looked at her. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not stupid or blind. Things have been…tense lately. With you and Robby.” She waited for Heather to say something, but what could she say? Dana was right. 

“Look, I know that seeing them together might not be the best thing for you. And I don’t know what happened between you and Robby that made things this awkward. But whatever it is, you got to let it go. The past…it’s not always a good thing to get swept up in what-ifs.”

Heather smiled at Dana, trying her hardest to make it look real. “I’m fine, Dana. I’m happy for him. For them.”

“Is that why you always avoid taking on a case with her?”

Dana didn’t wait for an answer before walking away. It was true. She would avoid you as much as she realistically could. She suspected that you knew what she was doing, but your kind eyes and bright smile never gave away if it made you upset. 

Robby stood in the peds room, his face shoved into his hand and Heather could tell that he wanted to cry. The twelve year old girl had passed away after you and him had been working on her for almost an hour and she knew that Robby was taking it hard. Blaming himself. 

She saw you approach him slowly and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It reminded Heather of what she used to do to comfort him after days like this. She remembered the way he would shrug her off and insist that he was fine and no, there was nothing he wanted to talk about. 

But with you…His hand came up to his shoulder to cover yours. She could see the way his grip tightened around your smaller fingers and you placed your other hand on his back, rubbing it gently. You were speaking, but she couldn’t hear anything that you were saying to him. You were tucked away, near the back of the room, away from prying eyes, but she saw. She saw the way his shoulders relaxed, how he was able to take a shaky, deep breath in and come back to himself. He nodded at you and gave you a real–albeit exhausted and sad–smile. 

It was easy, simple. It was like you knew exactly what he needed without him having to say anything. Like you were attuned to him. 

He was a different man than the one she used to know, she realized. A man you knew intimately. A man you loved just as fiercely as he loved you. 

She knew that now. Accepted it. 

She watched him engulf you in his arms and she smiled.

The rage in her heart lightened, drifting further and further away and it felt like she could finally breathe after months of drowning. She finally understood that since the moment you came into PTMC, she had no chance. And she was happy for Robby. Happy that he had someone who understood him, listened to him, and loved him the way you did. It hurt to accept that, but she knew that Robby was right. 

It was time to move on.

And she was finally ready.

[pipermcleanswife]

i need domestic fluff with mac 😭 like bedtime routine, watching movies together, having game nights on the pc together im so down bad for this computer i will take anything <3 ty

HI HII!!! OH MY DOUBLE GOSH. I LOVED THIS REQUEST! I HAD LIKE A GAZILLION IDEAS SO I JUST DECIDED TO CRAM THEM INTO HEADCANNONS (plus i was looking for a reason to spread more of my mac propaganda) I HOPE THATS ALRIGHTY!!💗💗Now, MOST of these headcannons are for once they are realized!! I've also included some other just random blurbs i thought of while writing these out! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings? Mac being a cutie pie

‼️Gender neutral reader‼️

• Once mac is realized they surprisingly dont change much. Its very hard for them to adapt to having human needs but you help them. Things get easier for the both of you.

• Im gonna be so fr, they are lowkey SO jealous if you decide you want to buy a new computer once they are realized. They are just so scared you wont need or want their help anymore.

• Mac is still a MAJOR nerd. Im serious. They get so geeked out to play new games with you, or read about some new tech advancements. I hope you've upgraded your vocabulary because you ARE getting an earful that you may or may not understand.

• Mac would help you find a job that keeps you at home so that they can be around you and you can teach them about life and stuff. If you cant find one though, they literally wait ALL day for you, calls you multiple times a day. Your breaks are usually spent texting and sharing stupid pictures with them.

• Mac LOVES to help with literally anything. It helps them reassure themselves that you want them around, that they ARE enough for you

• Mac is one of the most supportive people ever. They look at you like you hung the moon and stars. They ADORE when you show off a new outfit you bought and maybe some other purchases…

• Another favorite pastime is taking baths together, they just like the idea of sitting in your lap and having their hair washed.

• They love to play games with you, it's just so wonderful to have something like that with you. They weren't sure they would like it at first, BUT they love playing little world building games like Minecraft or animal crossing with you. I also feel it in my soul that they like the Hades games and probably deltarune

• Obviously they are still a tech nerd and since they can't just not sleep anymore you have to remind them, I'm so serious, they will not even recognize the exhaustion unless you come and get them and take them to bed

• Speaking of beds and cuddling. They ADORE to cuddle. I don't think they have a favorite way to cuddle because they just love being with you. They do like to spoon a lot and lay on top of you though!

• nighttime routines are really nice and calm. (Let's pretend you are strong enough to carry Mac up the stairs, let's be real though that twink can't possibly weigh more than 5 apples) Mac LOVES to help you comb through your hair or read something with you to get nice and tired, they can also think of... alternative....methods, they do tend to be quite creative in their options... Mac loves to help you wipe off your makeup (if you wear any) and they really like to rub your shoulders and whisper you some sweet words. They feel like you don't get the praise you deserve and make sure that you fall asleep knowing that they love you so much.

• Like I said in my last post about mac, They are so affectionate. LOVES HAND HOLDING. It's a requirement. No options

• Mac is actually really good about reminding you to do things, but forgets their own stuff. Like if you need to charge your phone but you forgot they'll be like “you need to charge your phone babes” and their phones dead. Deader than any straight white man who says, “school dosent matter” entrepreneur dreams.

• Honestly genuinely a wonderful partner. Plans fun dates for you two to go on every other week because they understand that it might could overwhelm you a little bit and you work hard, you would probably rather have a nice relaxation week. and on the weeks you dont have a date you guys have a movie or game night. Also, you two make dinner together frequently, they really like to help in the kitchen, big fan of baking.

• They totally have planned dates based on the fanfiction that you've read.

• Sometimes they feel incomplete not knowing everything you're searching up or browsing, not in a creepy way, it's just that was their purpose before you realized them, that was what they spent years doing, so sometimes they like to lean over and peer at whatever you're doing. And maybe they just so happen stalk your socials a little bit.

• They really like matcha and coffee, I am so sure of this. They were not sure they would like it. They get this strawberry matcha drink with sweet foam on top, and they share it with you everytime because they love sharing with you.

• That's another thing, Mac loves to share. Cold? “Well, I'm warm enough, take my jacket, win for both of us because you'll be warm and I get to see you look cute in my stuff.” (they are FREEZING, but their CPU- I mean, their heart just feels so warm around you that they hardly notice) Thirsty? “Here, you can have some of mine, lovely.” Hungry? “Aww babes, it's a good thing I'm coincidentally eating a food you really like!” (they got it because they KNEW they were going to give you some)

• Mac just loves you and is so happy that you're in their life.

Random headcannons because I can.

🖥️- yk those goofy stickers you have on the back of your MacBook? Those funny stickers are definitely on mac too. All over their back. Much like fantina except theirs are like tattoos until you remove them. But they disappear in their realized form. Which honestly makes them sad.

🖥️- macs glasses are blue light and they are not afraid to offer them to you when they can tell you're gonna be working overtime on Ao3

🖥️- they LOVE to smell nice. I'm so fr. Bath and body works for-lifer. ESPECIALLY a fan of that aromatherapy line they have. Will ask you what your fav scent is and then buy it so you snuggle up with them more.

“Hey baby, which one of these do you like” they say holding out two bottles of some type of soap. After taking a quick sniff of both you ultimately decided on the one in their right hand. “Hmmm, the one on the right is my fav” you say with a small hum. They made their purchase so fast you'd barley even finished picking out the rest of your things! (Speaking of which, if you've never tried the eucalyptus bath and body works shower steamer, YOU SHOULD, oh my double goodness, it is DIVINE)

🖥️- in the most loving way, Mac is a smartass. They are aware of this. They don't mean it in a malicious way. They just love to teach and inform you of things! It's the way your eyes light up and process the information, and don't even get them started on the fact that you sit there and let them explain for as long as they want, even if they drag on the most elementary of topics

🖥️- terrible immune system, horrible. Seasonal allergies kick their ass.

🖥️- we all know this FREAK makes whatever they can sensual and flirty, you can be chilling on your phone while cuddling on the couch with them and they'll whisper something so devious in your ear you actually throw the damn phone

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PHEW... That was a lot. Kinda proofread, kinda didn't, I KNOW, YOU CAN BOO ME IN THE COMMENTS. I'm SOOO sorry this didn't get out sooner. life is crazy, right?? I hope you guys enjoyed this tasty meal I cooked up for y'all. Love ya, songbirds!

[protectoroffaeries]

I've mentioned this story in various tags before but the whole thing is a little long for that, and relevant enough (I hope) to warrant a rare reply from me.

So I'm a trans man, but I'm also very likely intersex. I know this because as a teenager (16), I started growing a ton of hair everywhere (hirsuitism), and my parents were worried I might have PCOS, though I don't have any other indicators of that. Nor was I complaining about the hirsuitism - I had a beard LONG before I got access to T, and that worked for me. But they explained PCOS to me, and I was like well, I'll do the tests for that because if I do have it, I want to treat it. So I do ALL sorts of really invasive medical testing, during which 1) I develop a complex about how my genitals look because of how the doctor described them (combined with the hirsuitism, this is what makes me think I'm intersex) and 2) I learn I do not have PCOS.

Still, there was a lot of hullabaloo about the hair, especially the facial hair. So, even though I was not having sex and expressed zero desire to start hormonal birth control, I was prescribed it because literally everyone in my life except me was Worried About The Thick Dark Hair On My Face And Body. And like, okay, my parents have their flaws (more on that later), but they did what they thought was best for me, so I was like if they are so worried about this, I will try it.

And it did soften, lighten, and minimize the hair growth! But it also exacerbated my severe anxiety and depression in two separate ways: 1) it intensified what I now know is gender dysphoria, and 2) it literally altered the way my thought patterns function. It's hard to describe, but basically, my mind is very active, very chaotic, and very "loud". I am always thinking about a dozen different things, jumping around, visualizing words and images a lot. When I was on BC, all of that disappeared. It was silent. When I wasn't actively doing something, my brain felt turned off. It was uncanny and uncomfortable for me, and as a creative writer, it made it impossible for me to mentally work on writing projects in the background of day-to-day life.

I knew my parents would not understand either of these things (I never received any mental health care as a minor either, despite desperately needing it since I was a young teen), so I just stopped taking them. Just got rid of them in secret.

(I want to pause and say I am very pro birth control and birth control access. Even though it was bad for me, I know many people who use it treat chronic health conditions of their own, which is not even mentioning the way that being able to have sex without the risk of pregnancy is life-changing for the better. I believe it improves the quality of life for people who have an informed choice and the ability to go on and off it as they so require.)

Now, I have a younger sister who is also trans. She has known she's trans since she was very young. She tried to come out multiple times throughout her preteen and teen years before our parents acknowledged that she was serious. When she was 16, she begged them to let her go on estrogen. And they told her no. Even though the psychiatrist they got her straight up told them they'd be bad parents not to (my sister is still understandably mad about this tactless approach, but I can't say they were wrong).

They said they were worried she would regret it, that it was an adult decision, that she should wait and make it on her own, that they didn't want to be responsible for it if she changed her mind later, etc. etc. And I've always found this argument fascinating because I was like well. You put me on estrogen when I was 16 even though I was neutral to it, and then you created an environment where I felt like I couldn't be honest about how badly it was hurting me. And they have always staunchly maintained that was different. Which it was! My sister had been telling them for like half a decade she was a girl. And I told them I wasn't bothered by the fucking beard.

And so like, circling back to the children's rights and trans rights point - we were both sixteen. It was the same hormone. But the anti-trans fearmongering and parents' rights rule of law made it so that they had the power to choose to hurt us both in order to make us conform to our assigned sexes, even though we directly told them what our concerns were and weren't.

And look, I love my parents, I don't think they're like, demons or anything - I think they were ignorant and extremely scared about how the world would treat their queer children. But I will say, that also, they were not that interested in medical care beyond preventative care. Acute issues were handled at home. Chronic issues weren't treated at all - and I spent a decade self-managing severe, untreated OCD that makes me a bit resentful of that.

Like I'm in my mid-20s now. I've spent my entire adulthood thus far trying to make up for these parents' rights medical assertions that were wrong for me. That I conveyed, in all the ways a kid who loves their parents and is subjected to their control can, were wrong for me. And my sister's in the same boat. It's absolutely the same fight, trans rights and childrens' rights.

in a world where a prominent branch of anti-trans activism focuses on fearmongering about "parents' rights," trans rights and youth rights become inextricable.

trans kids deserve to be called the right pronouns and the right name by schools and doctor's offices, regardless of "parental consent." trans kids deserve to undergo the right puberty at the same time as their cis peers, regardless of "parental consent."

the very concept of "parents' rights" is a smokescreen that enables the abuse and dehumanization of children by adults. this is bad for cis kids, too.

[that-one-girl2020]

Your writing is phenomenal! I'm neck deep in characters I've never watched the movie for!😭 I'm not sure if requests are open, I couldn't find anything abt, so if you don't take requests, feel fre to ignore tho lol!

In the main story, I remember when Y/N was scratching at her scars, and the Saja Boys comforted her. Could you maybe do something about the girls finding out about that later on? I think it'd be a nice angst to fluff with them since they're working on building the trust/bond back(and it gives them more reasons to feel guilt bc the poor girl was self harming and she couldn't even go to her sisters abt it).

Again, feel free to ignore this! Your writing is great! You're great, so please don't go bald!💕

Old Scars

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Aww, thanks! I do my best to make sure all the characters get the love and attention they deserve, lol. I promise I won’t go bald! For any new readers, go check out my short series so that this actually makes sense! This one is definitely the shortest and simplest so far.

Synopsis: Your debut is fast approaching and you are kind of stressing out. Huntr/x and the Saja Boys all schedule a day to hang out to try and help you relax, but you end up falling back onto old habits.

CW: Self mutilation (scratching), angst and then comfort.

Please do not copy my work to another platform or plagiarize my content.

Word Count: 1.0k

Master List

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

Your debut was coming up and you were stressed—to say the least.

You were excited to debut, to perform on stage—of course you were, it has been your dream to perform since you were little—but with your debut, came so many expectations. You had already been teasing your debut on your social media, so has the company on their official socials, and already so many people had so many expectations of this new up and coming solo artist being on par with Huntr/x.

The nine of you were at the tower, spending time together to try and get you to relax. Both groups were worried about you, especially as more of your time was taken up by preparations for your debut. They were excited for you, but they were also worried by how stressed you were getting as the date loomed closer.

Jinu was sitting on your right, his hand massaging the back of your neck. Rumi was sitting on your left, her head on your shoulder as she focused on the movie playing, Ponyo. Jum was laying across your laps, snacking on some candy and feeding one to you every now and then with his head in your lap. Chungae, Kwan, and Mira were sitting around the coffee table, playing an aggressive game of Uno. Hyeon was sitting with Zoey who had her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration as she painted the quiet man’s nails.

Your mind couldn’t focus on the movie. It was racing with all the things you still had to do for your debut. Perfect the choreo, make your requests for the space, talk lighting and effects with the team, finish recording and editing ‘Play With Fire,’ schedule interviews and appearances, okay merchandise designs. It was a lot and you couldn’t help but fall back on old, bad habits.

Mindlessly, you started scratching at your arm, opening some of the scabs that were almost finished healing. You didn’t notice this though, and even if you did, you were too lost in your anxious thoughts to stop yourself efficiently.

“Hey,” Jinu’s gentle voice shook you from your thoughts and he took your hand in his, “Do you need something to fidget with? I have bandages with me too,” He told you softly. He hadn’t seen you scratch since the defeat of Gwi Ma, but he still kept things to help you if he ever saw you becoming stressed and scratching out of anxiousness—small fidget toys and gauze to wrap your arms so you couldn’t hurt yourself too badly.

Jinu’s soft voice caught Rumi’s attention as well, “(Y/n)!” She gasped, grabbing your arm and looking at the opened scabs, red marks, and faint scars, “What are you doing?!”

And then suddenly everyone was looking at you. Zoey shot up to come over as well, looking at your arm with worry, “Oh, (Y/n), what happened?”

Even Mira was looking with concern.

You shrunk into the couch, shame making your face burn and your eyes flickering amber with the spike of your emotions. The boys quickly closed ranks around you, Jum sitting up and getting between you and Rumi. Hyeon pulled Zoey back gently and placed himself in front of her so she couldn’t get closer to you. Chungae and Kwan joined them and filled in the gaps. It wasn’t that they were being malicious or thought that the girls would intentionally hurt you, it was just instincts that they moved to protect you when they saw you getting overwhelmed.

“What…?” Rumi blinked, confused by the sudden turn of events.

Jinu was already taking out some bandages and shoving a fidget toy in your hands. You gave him a small appreciative smile that he returned softly, pecking your nose to make you giggle. You looked at your sister, “I’m fine, Rumi. It’s just… a stress response,” You shrugged at her weakly.

“‘A stress response’?” Mira echoed, crossing her arms.

You elaborated slowly, “A bad habit really. I started doing it when I was stressed and even when I try to stop, it’s hard. I do it without really realizing it.”

Kwan chimed in, “We’ve been making sure she doesn’t hurt herself too badly. Especially with how stressed she’s been lately.”

You smiled at them, “Thanks boys.”

Rumi waved her hands, her mind trying to process the information that had just been given to her. “Wait, wait, hold up. (Y/n), how long has this been going on?” Rumi asked you softly.

You grimaced, squeezing the fidget in your hand tighter, your nails digging into the silicone. “Maybe, a few… years…?”

Mira wasn’t taking any of your bull, “And how many years, exactly?”

You shrunk into yourself, your shoulders going up to your ears. “Uhm, I think it started a little bit after we found out I couldn’t connect to the Honmoon…?”

Rumi gasped, “(Y/n), that was years ago! That was when we were kids!”

You grimaced harder, “I know… Sorry…”

Rumi waved her hands, “No, don’t apologize! I should be the one apologizing! I never even noticed!”

Rumi was mentally beating herself up. How could she not have noticed that her sister scratched herself when she was stressed or anxious? To the point where you were injuring yourself? To the point where you scarred yourself?! A few tears slipped from her eyes, her teeth grit and her chest aching. Mira and Zoey were not much better.

She sighed, calming herself down and reminding herself that this wasn’t about her. “What can I do to help?” She asked instead.

Zoey perked up, her face determined, “Yeah, we’ll do whatever you need.”

“Do you want snacks?” Mira offered and Zoey nodded eagerly.

You smiled, the tight knot in your chest that had been weaving tighter and tighter over the past few weeks finally relented. “I don’t really notice I’m scratching so if you do, just give me something to fidget with instead or remind me to bandage my arms so I can’t break skin,” You explained to them. Zoey went as far as to whip out a notepad and take notes for herself. And Rumi was filling her Amazon cart with different fidget toys and even some fidget rings. Mira was the calmest, just taking your words to memory.

Now that you were less stressed, you were able to actually enjoy your time with your boyfriends and your sisters as they gravitated closer to you, soothing you.

“Thank you guys.”

I love you all.

Outtakes:

…

You: *showing the slightest sign of stress*

Jinu: *pulling things out of his fanny pack* “I have eight different kinds of fidgets, bandages, and nail clippers.”

You: *wide eyed but touched* “Thanks…” *takes a fidget*

…

Polytr/x: “We have failed our role as the older sisters…”

You: “Uhm…Zoey’s younger than me…?”

Polytr/x: “Failed.”

…

Bobby: “Uh, why is there a nest of blankets, bandages, pillows, and fidgets in the corner…?”

Polytr/x and Saja Simps: “Can’t you read the sign?”

The Sign: “(Y/n)’s Stress Nest” “Sacred Ground” “Do Not Enter”

Bobby: “Okayyyy…”

Bobby: “Does she need snacks stocked in there?”

(Y/n) Protection Squad: “One of us. One of us. One of us.”

…

Tag List: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Hi! I love your writing style and I had this in the back of my mind for a bit and I’m hoping you would put this into words if it inspires you but imagine Lando and Daniel wanting to prank Max before a big conference by slipping a little blue pill in his redbull but max has a fall that morning and scrapes his palms, and all of it culminates into him hiding in the locker changing rooms, taunted by his friends, unable to take care of himself because of the injuries and the reader as his PR manager finds him like 20 minutes before the conference and tries to convince him to let her help him out as “professionally” as possible (like a handjob maybe?) and maybe max wants to return the favour at some point?

Blue Pills - Max Verstappen

<word count - 3137>

warnings: badly written smut, technically a drink spiking, not proof read

"Max is too calm, we have to do something big this time." Daniel said, thinking over his time in Red Bull with the Dutchman. It was no secret that Daniel and Lando got up to all sorts of trouble together, and now Max Verstappen was their next victim.

So far, they had kept their pranks relatively harmless. They had stolen Charles' phone and texted Carlos some rather... risque messages, they had replaced Nicholas' Nutella with marmite, and they had stolen Kimi's drink. He wasn't very bothered.

Most of them were funny. Well, Charles didn't find it overly funny but Carlos did, so that was at least half of their goal accomplished. For Max, they needed something that was more than just a bit of a laugh. They needed something that people would remember. 

"We could try and stick something on his back?" Lando suggested, and Daniel shook his head immediately. 

"No. We need something that will actually rattle him. It's hard to get to Max." he said, wracking his brains for something. If only there was a way to- oh, oh. Now that would be good. "I've got it," Daniel beamed, the plan formulating perfectly in his head. 

"We've got to be sneaky about it, but we can definitely pull it off. I need you to be a distraction for me, OK? Then we just let the magic happen," Daniel said, and Lando was curious to know what the Australian had up his sleeve, but he was sure that he'd find out sooner rather than later. 

"OK, sure." Lando nodded, already liking where this was going. The papaya pair planned how they were going to execute their devious plan, trying to keep their voices down so that no one would hear them. 

Meanwhile, Max was in medical. On track, he was careful and clinical beyond belief. He didn't make many mistakes. But when his two feet were firmly, or not so, planted on the ground, he was one of the clumsiest men you could find. 

He was literally just walking through the paddock, when he tripped over his own feet and fell to the tarmac. He held his hands out to break the fall, ending up with his palms getting grazed to hell on the rough surface. Thankfully, there was no one around to witness it apart from you, but he could live with that. 

Being Max's PR manager meant that you spent a lot of time with him weekend in and weekend out, so you had become accustomed to his spells of ditsiness. He should have been glad you were there, since he wouldn't have gone to medical if you hadn't forced him to. 

All they did was clean them and wrap them, but he looked like a boxer walking around with his hands wrapped. At least he could hold things and at least he could still race. He just had to look at the positives.

To add insult to injury, Max had a press conference to go to. But first, you dropped him off to the hospitality centre for him to take a second and relax before he had to go into the worst part of his weekend. Of course, he wouldn't be Max if he didn't have his trusty Red Bull in hand, so you picked an ice cold one up for him on your way. 

"You better be here when I go in or else I'm not going." he said, and you knew he was deadly serious. Max didn't give a shit, if he didn't want to go, then he wouldn't. The only reason that he ever went to any of his menial media obligations was for you. 

Your entire job was making sure he said the right thing and was where he was meant to be on time. He felt bad for giving you the amount of hassle that he did, but every driver did it to their PR manager. He knew how hard you worked, so he wasn't going to ruin it by being too much of a handful for you. 

You left him there while you went to run some quick errands, watching as Daniel and Lando approached him. Once you were gone, they waited for him to put his drink down before springing into action. "Hey Max, did I show you that video I got in Thailand? Of the waterfall in the sunset?" Lando asked, ready for everything to fall into place. 

"No, you didn't. Show me." Max said. He was intrigued.

"My phone's on charge. C'mon, I need a walk." Lando said.

"Sure," the Dutchman nodded. He had taken the bait. Lando and Max walked out of sight and left Daniel to carry out his master plan. Looking around to make sure that no one had their eyes on him, he produced two little blue pills from his pocket. 

They were embarrassing to buy, and he had to send some poor intern to get them so that he wouldn't be recognised. The last thing that he needed was people thinking that he needed viagra to get it up, because he most certainly didn't. 

Daniel wasn't actually sure how many he needed, as the pack stated various amounts for various levels of arousal. So, he opted for the one that he thought meant 'hard enough to be visible, but not so hard that it's impossible to get rid of'. 

He popped them through the top of the Red Bull can, watching the blue dissolve into the energy drink through the hole with a fizz. Just as the tablets had melted down, he heard Max and Lando's voices behind him. This was going to be amazing.

Max sat back down in his seat, holding Lando's phone in his hand as he scrolled through the videos from his trip to Thailand. With the other, he reached out and took a few sips of the Red Bull. Daniel and Lando glanced at each other, trying not to give away the fact that they were up to something. It tasted slightly off, but he didn't think much of it. 

You had gotten a fresh one from the fridge; he had seen you do it. It was probably just the heat making it taste a little weird. 

All of the drivers had been pretty on edge around them, not wanting to fall prey to their predatory pranks. Max didn't seem overly phased, though. Then again, he was used to it from having Daniel as a teammate and Lando as a long time friend. 

After talking for long enough, Max had finished the Red Bull. Daniel was stressing slightly. He was trying not to be too obvious as he looked at Max's crotch, looking for any sort of sign that the pills were actually working. 

Max, on the other hand, was trying to ignore the odd feeling of arousal that he was currently experiencing. For some reason, he was suddenly horny. Glancing down, he saw the slight bulge that was already forming in his jeans .

There wasn't even anything around him that he would find even remotely arousing, and now he was getting a full on hard on out of nowhere? Daniel and Lando both noticed the flush in his cheeks as he fidgeted in his seat, knowing that their plan had worked. 

"Just going to the toilet," Max choked out, wanting to get out of there before the extent of his problem could be realised. He was gone before the McLaren boys could make a comment, and they were going to let him sweat for a few minutes. 

"Did you see his face? Priceless," Daniel laughed.

"That is a genius idea, I like it." Lando giggled back, standing and going to follow Max to the changing rooms. He wanted to see this for himself. 

Daniel followed, both of them walking in to find Max pacing the locker rooms with a massive tent in his jeans. "Damn, Max. Didn't know you enjoyed media day that much." Lando laughed, and Max instantly knew. He had fallen victim to the infamous papaya pranksters.

"What did you do?" he asked, unable to hide the bite in his tone. He was all for harmless pranks, but this was downright humiliating. If people found out that he had gotten an erection in the middle of the paddock, he'd never live it down. Max Verstappen, 4 time world champ and the guy who gets bricked up when he has to do an interview. 

"We didn't do anything-" Daniel started with a smirk before Max cut him off. 

"What the fuck did you two idiots do?!" Max shouted, not caring who heard. 

"We just gave you one or two of those blue things..." Lando trailed off, suddenly thinking that this joke had gone a little too far. 

"Viagra? You gave me fucking viagra?! I've got a press conference!" Max raged, now realising that is all made sense. The sudden arousal, Daniel and Lando being a bit weird all day, the strange taste of his drink. They had spiked him, and now he was hard as a rock and had no way to deal with it. There was half an hour before the press conference, and he knew that this stuff lasted a while if the problem wasn't taken care of. 

That was when another issue cropped up: he couldn't take care of it. His hands were bandaged up and, even in his state, that would not feel good at all. There was no way that he could hide it, either. He was screwed. 

"Only two." Daniel clarified, as if that would make the situation better. Looking between Max, Lando, and Max's dick, Daniel quickly sussed out that this may not have been his brightest idea to date. They'd stick to prank texts next time. Well, if there was a next time if Max didn't murder both of them right then and there. 

"Fuck off, both of you. I'm not dealing with you and this at the same time," he warned, and they took the hint and walked out with their tails between their legs. The pair stayed silent as they left, and they spotted you stood in hospitality. You were looking for Max. 

"Have you two seen Max? He hasn't run off, has he?" you joked, but the looks on their faces told you that now certainly wasn't the time for joking.

"He's in the locker rooms. He's got a small... issue." Lando said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You didn't know what they meant, so you took it upon yourself to go to the changing rooms. 

"Max? It's me. We've got to go." you called, opening the door and stepping through. 

"No, wait out there-" he started, but you were already in the room. Max was sat there, his jeans on the bench next to him while his lower half was only covered by his boxers. That was when you saw it. Max Verstappen. The man you spent every weekend with. The man that you worked closely with was sat in the locker rooms with a painfully hard dick. 

"What the hell happened to you?" you asked, trying to keep your eyes on his face rather than the obvious elephant in the room. 

"Those fuckers slipped me some viagra..." he mumbled, glad to admit that he wasn't just really horny but also embarrassed that he fell for it. 

You looked at him with sympathy, feeling bad that he was a prank victim. But, you were also thinking practically. There was no way that he could get out of this, but you wouldn't want to go out there and do a conference if you were like this either. 

"Can't you... sort it out?" you said, not wanting to be too crude. 

"Not with these," he scoffed, holding up his bandaged hands. Even if he took them off, it would still be really painful and wouldn't have the desired effect. It would probably just wind him up more.

That was when Max got an idea. It was a horrendous idea that could ruin your entire relationship, but it was an idea nonetheless. He hated the fact that he had even thought of this, let alone that he was actually going to ask it out loud. "Can you?" he asked. 

"Can I what?" you replied. Deep down, you knew what he was asking, but you didn't want to accept it. Even before he asked, you were contemplating your response. Something in your brain told you to do it. This was for both of your careers, so surely it would be worth it? At the end of the day, it was only Max.

The two of you were close, so what was getting him off going to do to your rapport with each other? Right, stupid question. That was going to do a lot to your relationship. It would make it so awkward, knowing that you had been intimate like that.

What excuse would you give for Max not being at the conference if you just left him to let the viagra wear off? He felt sick? His hands hurt too much? No, there wasn't time to formulate a story. "Can you sort this out? Just a handjob will do... like... just to get it over with..." he rambled, hating the words as they left his mouth.

"We never speak of this again, agreed?" you said, tentatively sitting next to him on the bench.

"Never again." he nodded, not fully believing that you were actually following through with this. "You don't even have to look," he gently said, taking the first step and pulling his erection out of his boxers.

Your eyes widened as you saw it. He was bigger than you expected, but you thought that it was probably the viagra helping him out. Precum was already beading at the tip, and you felt quite bad for him. 

"Ok... here goes..." you mumbled, spitting in your hand to create some lubrication. If he was being honest, Max thought it was one of the hottest things that he had ever seen. It was the first lick of genuine arousal that he had had all day, and he wasn't complaining.

You were unsure of whether you should look or if you could cancel out the awkwardness by looking away. But you found yourself looking as you gently took ahold of his hardened length. Max shuddered at the contact, and both of you knew that this wasn't going to take long. It was better that way. 

You rubbed your thumb over his tip, smearing precum over it while Max had to bite back a moan. If people heard from outside, they would be straight in and the two of you would never live that down. 

You started off slow, your hand moving up and down his shaft. You were trying to remove yourself from the situation, but you couldn't help but look at his face as his head was tipped back against the wall with his eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip firmly caught between his teeth. 

He looked damn handsome like this. Max's face was flushed with desire and his hair was perfectly ruffled from running his hands through it a few too many times. He was trying to keep quiet, but the whines he was letting out made heat pool between your legs. 

Picking up the pace, you pumped his dick faster, wanting to find the sweet spot of how fast he wanted you to go. "Fuck... just like that..." he mumbled, his breath stuttering as he let the pleasure consume him. He had to stop himself from bucking his hips up into the contact, revelling in the fact that he was finally relieving some of the pressure. 

As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were thoroughly enjoying this. There was a strange part of you that wanted to find out exactly what he liked and how he wanted you to do things. You got a better reaction out of him when you squeezed a bit harder. Just like his racing, Max didn't like things doing by halves. 

The natural reaction was for you to be just as turned on as he was. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't about pleasure, it was simply business. You were fixing the issue that had been caused by Daniel and Lando - even if the issue was jerking off a world champion driver. 

"I... I'm going to..." he trailed off, and you knew precisely what he meant. You sped up for one final time to get him there, Max's hand reaching out and gripping your thigh as if he were grounding himself as he came, spilling out onto your hand. 

You kept your movements up as he rode through the high, before he relaxed back against the wall and you stopped. Letting go, you just sat there and looked at each other. "Thank you..." he softly smiled, glad that you had saved him from definite embarrassment.

"That was... well I'm not going to lie to you and say that you weren't amazing," he chuckled and squeezed your thigh. He noticed how you were clenching your thighs together as if you were also craving some sort of friction. 

Before he could comment, you stood and went to get tissues. You passed him a few, and you went to the sink to wash your hands. You were washing your hands of Max's cum, which was something that you never thought you'd ever do. 

"Ha, thanks." you quietly laughed as you dried them off. Max was cleaning himself up, glad that Daniel and Lando hadn't given him any more pills than they had. One hand job was enough. "Come on, we've got to go."  you said, trying to distract from what the two of you had just done. 

"You'll have to let me return the favour one day, yeah?" he said, and he was being sincere. Max was all for fairness, and he wasn't just going to let this happen without you getting your fair share. He saw how much you wanted it, and he could see the faint hints of arousal still lingering in your eyes. 

"We're never discussing this again," you rushed, walking out of the locker room swiftly in front of him. He knew you wanted it just like he did, and he could feel himself stirring naturally this time. Now wasn't the time, though. 

As the two of you walked through hospitality and towards where the conference was taking place, Daniel and Lando watched on from afar. Max didn't have an erection anymore, and you looked flustered. Their minds were running at a thousand miles a minute, and it was like both of them connected the dots at the same time.

If looks could kill, the two of them would be dead as Max glared at them. They'd have to let sleeping dogs lie. For now. 

A/N - I loved writing this I can't even lie to you, this is one of my favourite requests that I have ever gotten! The smut is awful, I know it is 😂 Leave anymore requests in my inbox!

|masterlist|

[emmyrosee]

Hiii I hope you’re having a good day/night💗💗

I find your whole masterlist a MASTERPIECE and I saw a tiktok I NEEDED to send u right away cuz it screams Timeskip Osamu

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS2Qmff6a/

PLS write anything based on the audio with Osamu😂💗💗

tw // suggestive content in piece and audio, minors DNI please and thank you 🫶🏻

———-

Osamu looks so good cooking.

He looks good all of the time, it’s something you’ve grown to appreciate in the years you’ve been together, but there’s something about the focus he brings when he’s cooking, the confidence he exudes and the satisfied grin he gives you with every new dish he’s able to indulge you with.

Osamu looks good. Too good.

You watch from your perch on the counter, munching on some of the spare ingredients he set aside for you as he puts the finishing touches on the newest dish, made especially for you with your special tastes in mind. Something for the restaurant, something named in your honor and based on the recipes of your fiancé’s that you’ve grown to adore.

His tongue pokes out just slightly in focus, adamant to get the dish absolutely flawless in his mind as he adds a final sprinkle of seasoning, followed by a dramatic placement of a garnish. You snort, "I'll feel bad if i ruin it now, babe."

"You've never ruined anything once in our relationship," Osamu is quick to assure, beaming up at you as he passes the new recipe to you. "Alright. Dig in."

You use your chopsticks to grab the perfect bite, sauces and crisp veggies exploding flavor on your tongue. You mewl happily, nodding along with your bite while your fiancé waits eagerly for your answer. "Miya Osamu..."

"Yes?"

"That might replace my top spot," you purr, and he grins wider. "This is incredible."

"Thank you angel," he says excitedly. You eat more of the dish, humming in delight for the taste before putting the plate to the side and wiping your mouth with a paper towel.

“Compliments to the chef,” you hum.

“Does the chef get a kiss?” Osamu says, puckering his lips out. You of course comply, leaning forwards to press a small peck on his expectant lips. Your arms toss around his neck and his hands find their way to your waist, thumbs stroking the curved bones of your hips. Your legs loosely wrap around his waist, keeping him close.

“Chef’s gonna get a lot more than a kiss,” you purr. “Chefs gonna get the head of his lifetime tonight.” You press one more kiss to his lips as he processes your words, and you laugh as his once blissed expression morphs into one of absolute shock for the vulgarity. Your legs tighten around him, forcing him close to you.

“Babe!”

You grin, “gonna rock his world. Send him into the stratosphere, y’know?”

“Oh my god!” He laughs, slowly pushing you back. “You dirty, dirty flirt!”

"Oh, I'm not flirting," you tease. You look him up and down, "not a flirt if its a promise."

"Do I need a safeword?" He laughs, letting you tug him close once again with your legs. His big hands find their way to your waist once more, lips sponging down your neck in excitement.

"You might."

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! ❞

　every sip makes you even more drunk, forcing you to open up about your thoughts and worries or you have lots on your mind and got to speak up about it !

featuring. nagumo yoichi , asakura shin , seba natsuki !

content. 2.3k wc , up to 0.7-0.8k words per each drabble , comfort , fluff , a teeny tiny bit hurt , crack , characters may be ooc , spoiler - free , safe for minors , bad drinking habits , established relationships ,

author’s note. I feel like the characters are too ooc ugh, maybe I’m not made to write for the sakamoto days fandom. worry worry worry myself — I still hope you enjoy reading.

NAGUMO YOICHI.

　"ANOTHER one..." you plead.

Sliding the shot glass towards the bartender, who was in the middle of drying utensils, you could only breathe out in sorrow. But was it really sorrow if you felt sad through the drink?

"The same?" she questioned and grabbed the glass, putting it under water to wash it properly.

"Yesh..." you slurred over the word and tried to get the right sight of her. "I hafe him."

It wasn't long until tears glided down your cheeks — your shoulders began to quiver as loud and obnoxious sobs left your lips. "Ugh... I hafe him cho mush." you murmured incoherently.

"Hate who?" she chuckled, putting ice into the glass.

"Erm..." you trailed off and blinked slowly.

Who did you hate again?

"Someone." you leaned your cheek against your palm.

"Perhaps you're only drunk." she shook her head. "You don't actually hate the someone."

Her movements skilled and swift before she slid the glass back to you. Definitely, there was no need in denying. You were drunk, cheeks red and warm, daze vivid in the eyes.

"Nooo..." the denial was dragged out into the length, "I am NOT drunk..! I reallyyyy hafe someone."

"Oh really?" a hum left her lips, getting back to washing the remaining things in the sink. "Who do you hate then?"

"Yes, who do you hate?" you flinched as soon as another voice joined the conversation.

"Uh... I don't know..." the glass was about to graze your lips yet you lowered it again to answer her. "Wait..."

"I will wait." the man sat down next to you and titled his head to the side.

"B-Black medium-length black hair, black and large eyes... Err... Tall?"

He chuckled at the description, whole body turned to you with his cheek supported by his knuckles. "Really? That sounds like your husband." he gasped in surprise, feigning awe.

"My husband?" you didn't even look into his direction, yet you were still confused. "Yeah..."

Right. Your husband. Your gaze lingered on the shiny ring, cutely wrapped around your finger, before they wandered back to the new made drink. The edge of the glass came closer until it touched your lip.

"Dear, I never knew you hated me!" he said hurt, hand grasping your wrist softly.

"Hate you..? N-No, I don't." you stuttered, more sober than before — but the dazed mist was visible in your eyes.

"But I'm your husband." he chuckled and lowered your hand. "Now, now. I think that's enough for today."

"N-No..!" you reached out for the drink which was out of your reach though.

"Yes." he smiled at the bartender and placed a few bills on the counter. "Keep the change!"

"Have a good evening." she nodded and didn't watch how you two left the bar.

"Yoichi..." you whispered, leaning against your husband.

"That's my name." his arms found themselves under your knees and back again, quickly carrying you bridal-style without wasting another second.

"Yoichiiii..." you slurred out, automatically wrapping your arms around his neck. "I lobe you..."

"Well that's not what you told me moments ago." he teased and walked ahead.

"I hate you." you muttered, leaning your head against his shoulder while closing your eyes, "so much..."

"I'm sorry, yeah? Don't be mad at me." he apologised, sulking slightly like a little kid.

"No... I hate you." you stayed stubborn though, like always.

If you once made up your mind about something, you will not change it so easily. Unless it's absolutely necessary. Even in your drunken state, you're no one to easily accept an apology.

"Forgive me." he said once again, this time more firm. More serious.

You blinked tiredly, taking in his seriousness apology before tears welled up in your eyes again — now beginning to cry once again. The hug around his neck got even tighter.

"Y-You always take so looooong!" you cried and sobbed, snot everywhere. "I hate you so much!"

"Don't cry. I'm sorry, okay? I will stay longer this time." he sweat dropped.

"What d-do you mean longer..? So you're still going..!" you wiped away your tears.

"I didn't say that."

"Liar! Liar! Liar! You're sleeping... on the couch..!" you kicked your feet and slapped his face with your wet hand.

"Ack— I'm sorry! I'm not going anywhere!"

ASAKURA SHIN.

　"SAKAMOTO, can you believe it actually?" you cried out in disbelief.

The mentioned man sweat dropped as he could only watch how you began to cry and grip onto the bottle tightly. Should he stop you? Or maybe he should just leave? No, Aoi would be mad at him.

"He's so careless! Whenever you take him with you, he comes back bruised and all." you complained, tugging his sleeve.

That's not true at all. Actually only half way true. Shin tags along with him all the time, he doesn't accept no. And it's also true, Shin does come back with bruises and cuts every time.

No wonder why his girlfriend was worried despite knowing what kind of thing he does — and also his past. Yet it doesn't change the fact that you're always sick worried about him.

"Sort it out with him." Sakamoto didn't hesitate to stand up and walk away.

"Don't gooooo!" you cried out, hand reaching out for the older male.

He disappeared. Now you were alone again. You blinked slowly, gaze desperately searching for Sakamoto. Where was he? "Wahh!" your eyes suddenly starting to burn as you immediately stood up.

But the movement was too sudden, too fast for you half-asleep body to handle — making you stumble already and fall to the floor if it weren't for someone else. You lifted your head slowly.

"[name]?"

"Ah." you held his arms to back away, knitting your eyebrows in fury. "Who do you think you're touching! I have a boyfriend..! He can beat you up..."

"What a silly thing to say." the surprise faded and got replaced with a smile. "I'm your boyfriend, silly."

"You are?" you squinted your eyes, trying to recognise the man in front of you. "You look like... Shin."

"Because I am Shin."

"No... wait. I have a boyfriend?" you puzzled, getting confused with every other second passing. 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he nod his head in amusement, wrapping his hands gently around your wrists to get them off his arms. "Yes, you have a boyfriend named Shin. And I'm that Shin."

"Shin... Shin?" you repeated his name.

Without hesitation — you hugged him tightly, lower lip trembling slightly.

The action was out of nowhere, forcing him to step back in surprise. He patted your back, worry vivid on his face. But on the inside, he was cheering in joy.

Oh my god! You are the cutest.

"Ahem... W-What's wrong? Why are you crying?" he coughed in light embarrassment, rubbing your back up and down.

"Shin..." you whispered, tightening the grip around his clothes.

His eyes softened at your voice, taking in the vulnerable state of yours as he decided to handle you with the utmost care and love. "Mmh?" he hummed under his breath and mustered a smile.

"You..." eventually, you lifted your head again so he could see the furious expression on your face. "BITCH!"

"W-WHAT?"

Angrily gripping onto his clothes again, you shook him back and forth to make him dizzy — to make him feel bad. You aren't satisfied though, knowing that he did not feel the same pain and worry like you.

"How could you!? No— How can you! You always leave for stupid dangerous things and come back to me injured and don't even think about how sick worried I always am and, and..! You're so mean!"

"A-Ah, [name]..!" he caught your hands again, stopping you from shaking him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I don't mean to make you worried for me. I know how stupid I am... But please don't be mad at me."

"No. I'm still mad." despite the words, your dazed eyes softened as you pursed your lips. "I... erm hate you."

"[name], I'm sorry for being reckless and careless." he apologised again.

You furrowed your eyebrows at that.

"Please... I would do anything to change that but it's impossible. I think it's just part of me, unintentionally putting myself in danger to keep my..."

His cheeks reddened, just like yours. Yet there was difference. Yours were red from the alcohol and his were red from the sheer embarrassment, of admitting this.

"I errr... I wanna keep my loved ones safe." he didn't dare to meet your gaze again, too disappointed in himself.

Your lips formed a straight line, eyes widened ever so slightly as tried your best to process his words with a drunken mind. "Uh... Yeah..." you trailed off, not able to find an answer yet. You took time before replying, "fine. You're uh forgiven..."

"Really?" that was easy. Not that he's complaining.

"Mmh." you hummed and leaned your whole body weight against him, plopping your head on top of his shouler. "Yeah... I actually like you a looooooot. I don't hate you..."

"You don't hate me?" his eyes lit up at the words. "I love you too."

"Shin, you're so cool. Read my mind..."

"...Okay, I think you should go to sleep now."

SEBA NATSUKI.

　"UGH, I feel so sad." your lips quivered slightly.

The effect of the alcohol is kicking in, taking over your body and doing things without you being in control. You tightly gripped onto the glass and poured out all your heart's sorrow.

Maybe you wonder to whom you're saying all this? You aren't too sure to make out specific details yet you know it was a guy, a student from JCC and part of the invention apartment.

Like your boyfriend. Oh. Your boyfriend who had no time for you.

"He has no time for me at allllll!" you dragged out the last word into its length as you began to cry hysterically. "He doesn't love me anymore!"

"I'm sure he does though." the male sweat dropped.

Tears blocked your sight, blurring your view even more as you cried out obnoxiously. It fed the urge to drink more, immediately bringing the glass to your lips while crying.

"No, how would you even know! You rando!" you slammed the glass against the table in anger before it subsided into sadness again. "Ugh, he's such an asshole! Wahhh!"

"Oh, I think so too." the male agreed.

"I knew I wasn't the only one! See how he takes care of me! No he doesn't do it at all actually. He loves his hobby more than me..! I'm so sad! Can you feel my sadness!?" you exclaimed and sobbed.

"Well, I can see your sadness." he was right. You were crying, after all.

"Huh..." you let out in confusion and brushed it off again, "I think he's cheating on me... He hasn't been replying my messages for a while and he doesn't like my post at all."

It felt like you were shrinking with every word leaving your lips while you stared at the table, head feeling dizzy. "Never answers my call... Never visits me... It's always the other way around. He's cheating."

"Cheating huh?"

"Yeah! With a woman who's a lot more beautiful and attractive and cute and sweet and kind and caring and and... And less annoying, less me..." you trailed off, hand on your lap and the other around the glass, eyes glued to the table.

You were staring at your reflection, taking in the ugly sight of you crying and sobbing. "Perhaps a more loving woman. And someone he could love more." you blinked. "What do you say?"

"I believe that he isn't cheating. I know he isn't cheating."

"You're taking his sight huh... To cover him. You a friend or something?" you lifted your head slowly to look at him. "What I just beat your ass?"

Dazed eyes staring at the male who sat across of you, to be more specific it was your boyfriend sitting there. He stared at you in monotony, finding no joy in drinking like you did.

"Oh hey... You look like my boyfriend." you noted and hiccuped. "My boyfriend... My boyfriend—"

"Perhaps, I'm the boyfriend." he sighed out and stood up from his seat, walking over to you.

"You're not... You're trying to cover him huh, you bitch." you glared at him, venom seeping out. "Or you're trying to seduce me! Who are you!"

"I'm your boyfriend." he sat down next to you, leaning close to let you take a proper look.

"No... You're not. You fake. I have a boyfriend! Get away!" you tried to push him away yet he didn't budge an inch. "Fakey! Get away!"

"I'm Seba Natsuki." he introduced himself and gently grabbed your hand.

"Natsuki? Seba Natsuki..? You even got the same name as my boyfriend." you blinked and squinted your eyes. "Who are you really? Get away..."

"Should I really?" he loosened the grip around your hand, about to back away.

"No, don't go!" you cried out and held onto his clothes. "Don't go, Natsuki! Don't go to that woman! Pleaseee! I love you too much!"

"[name], I'm not going anywhere." he sweat dropped.

"Really?" you hiccuped but your head felt too heavy to even move, almost dropping.

And it did drop, too heavy for your drunken body as it almost fell to the table. Almost — if it weren't for your boyfriend catching you at the right time, hand underneath your head.

"Look at you." he sighed. "Drunk and stupid. You really think I'd cheat?"

"Yeah... Are you though..?" you kept your eyes closed.

"No. I'm sorry. I will better myself. And sorry for not answering. I had to use my phone for a project." he explained briefly, laying your head softly on the table. "And I'm sorry if it seems like I have no time for you. I will clear my schedule for you."

"Mmh really?"

"Promise. But only in exchange to not think I got another girlfriend."

"Alright... I'm cuter right? And sweeter? And prettier? And kinder, more caring, less annoying..."

"Yeah. You are a lot better, the best."

"I know."

© 2025 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

[bambiihee]

FROM UTOPIA AND BACK ˒˒ 이희승 〔 TEASER 〕

♫ listen to the playlist here!

pairing。 » lee heeseung x fem!reader 𓄵feat。 the rest of enhypen, giselle and winter from aespa, lia and ryujin from itzy, yunjin from lsfm, named oc boyfriend

genre。angst, smut, porn with plot, unhappy ending

warnings。» explicit language and sexual content, drug use, mentions of marijuana and prescription pills, dealer!heeseung, good girl!reader, college au, fraternities and sororities, ex fwbs to ???, corruption kink, vaginal fingering, squirting, dirty talk, praise kink, cheating/infidelity, piv, unprotected sex, facefucking, facials, meanie!heeseung, semi-public sex, more tags to be added. everything is terrible and everyone sucks. current word count。9k (final wc ~ 25-30k)

teaser word count。1.3k

bambii's note。» now that i'm officially a third of the way through this fic, I wanted to share a little teaser of what's to come!! this fic is literally my fucking baby and I really hope you guys are as excited about reading this as i am writing it. let me know if you want to be tagged for when it releases! I'm not making any solid promises due to my event and the other fics I'm working on, but I'm really hoping to be done with this thing by mid to late august. I'm not comfortable setting an official release date until I'm much closer to the finish line.

If you were sober, you would be in full blown panic mode, but the weed is making it difficult to really care. It wasn’t as if you were missing some big test or anything, and Heeseung skipped class all of the time and no one ever batted an eye… and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want this moment to end. You and Heeseung together in his car like nothing had ever happened between you, like everything was just as it was when you thought you had his heart. 

“This is what I mean when I say you think too much.” Heeseung shakes his head and lights thankfully not another joint but a cigarette. “Nobody cares if you don’t show up to a class or two. Just tell them you were sick or something if they’re really that nosy. Besides, we’re the only people on this side of the parking lot right now. It’s not like somebody’s going to see you.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Come on, stay with me a little longer. Just until you’re sober. I missed you.” and there he goes again, with his big, sparkly Bambi eyes, gazing down at you like he needs your permission to breathe. You hate him, hate how manipulative he is and how good he is at it. You hate how confident you were that you could beat him at his own game, yet here you are, falling for the same old tricks like you never learned your lesson. 

“I haven’t missed you.” you mutter petulantly. It doesn’t sound believable even to your own ears. 

Heeseung grins like it was a compliment. “Oh, yeah? Jinyoung keeping you satisfied?”

He spreads his legs wider, to the point it’s almost obscene. You swallow hard and avert your eyes from his very inviting lap. Memories of being perched on that lap tug at you like unraveling threads, slowly breaking you down; grinding up against him in this very backseat, moaning into each other's hot mouths, sliding your hands along his built thighs when you got on your knees for him, only because the touch made him shudder. How easily he made you feel like you never had before, cocky and laidback and effortless as if he wasn’t even trying. How he would talk you through it, the words branded into your brain, ringing in your ears when you’re touching yourself at night. You’ve made yourself cum to the memory of what “good girl” sounded like coming from his lips. 

“He is keeping me satisfied, actually.” you insist. Somehow, you sound even less believable than you did before. “I’ve been getting out of my shell more now that we’re together; he keeps me from rotting away in my bedroom every day.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause Friday night you looked fucking miserable.” Heeseung cocks his head, eyes glittering with mirth. “Anyway, that’s not the kind of satisfied I’m talking about.”

You stiffen, a rising heat flushing your neck and cheeks. “Heeseung.” you warn him, though it sounds more like a desperate plea. 

“I’m just asking. Is it wrong to be curious?” he croons, grin widening. It’s not hard to imagine the pitchfork and the horns, red and twisted and hiding underneath his equally red hair. “He must be fucking you right if you’re defending him this much.” 

“I’m not having this fucking conversation with you, Lee.” you wish you had more control over your voice, like Heeseung did. You wish you didn’t sound so cornered and weak. 

“Does he make you feel good? Better than me?” Heeseung leans in and his thick, musky cologne invades your senses, clouds your mind worse than the weed. The familiar, enticing scent works through you as if you were one of Pavolv’s dogs, notes of wood and amber with a hint of marijuana and cigarette smoke, so unmistakingly Heeseung that it makes your thighs clench. It reminds you of nights you used to spend with him, twisted together on his mattress, wearing his clothes like he and you were something more than… you weren’t even friends. Confidants, maybe. Business partners. Two strangers in a deal; you wanted his drugs and he wanted your body. 

He still wants your body. He tells you as much with his arms caging you against the headrest, heavy on top of you and staring you down like a predator. His sultry gaze sets your skin on fire, the heat settling deep in your gut. “Does he fuck you every night like I did? Does he make you squirt as easily as I can? Does he eat your pussy the way you like?”

You whimper and squirm underneath him, unable to meet his eyes. It’s agonizing just how easily he can turn you on, your belly fluttering with hot, sticky arousal from hardly anything at all. “You’re disgusting.” you spit at him, though you don’t sound nearly as angry as you would like. It’s just what Heeseung was hoping you would say.

He beams. “Oh fuck, he doesn’t, does he? Parades you around like a trophy but can’t even please you right— do you put up with it for the stability? Fake moaning in his ear so he feels like a man?”

You shake your head violently, too overwhelmed to speak.

“Can he even make you cum?”

You don’t stop shaking your head. 

Heeseung laughs, a sharp, startling bark directly in your face. He forces you to look up at him with his fingers gripped tight around your chin, his calloused fingertips digging into the fat of your cheeks. There’s a fire burning in his eyes, hungry and dangerous, all consuming with how the burning heat of his gaze overtakes your body. “I knew it. I’ve been listening to girls complain about how bad of a lay he was for years. Bet he talked big game, too. How long have you been having to finish yourself off after he falls asleep? Are your fingers even enough anymore or did you get some toys? Do you still think of me when you’re fucking yourself? Wishing it was me between those thighs?” 

“Heeseung, stop.” you plead with him again, but you make no move to stop him when his hand comes to rest heavy on your inner thigh. 

“Now that’s disgusting. It’s fucking criminal, having you like that and not ruining you.” he continues, warm breath tickling your ear and nose. The smell of ash on his lips tempts you for a taste. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re falling apart. Used to make you cum until you couldn’t anymore, remember baby? Poor, smart girl all stressed out and needing me to fuck her stupid. ‘Til your sweet little head’s all empty and your pussy’s shaped like me. Fuck, that’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? You’re all pent up, seeking any kind of release— it’s not really my weed you want, baby. You need me to make you cum.” 

His hand slides higher, underneath your skirt and your sweater, pinky finger ghosting over the gusset of your panties. You want to fight him, push him off and away, but you’re frozen underneath his searing touch. Just the tips of his fingers and the ghost of his lips across your jaw is enough to get your pussy soaking, dampening your panties and making your hips twitch. Heeseung can no doubt feel the wet spot, growing bolder with two of his long thick fingers tracing the outline of your pussy lips. You grab ahold of his hoodie sleeve, clutching desperately to ground yourself and keep from grinding up into his hand. 

“We can’t,” you mewl pathetically, baked brain spinning from how fast your carefully constructed walls are coming down. It’s a shame. You spent months working on them.

Still, even as you deny him, you don’t try to stop him when he cups your hot, throbbing cunt in his palm and presses down, rewarding your gasp with a deceptively chaste kiss to your neck. “Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, princess. Tell me what you need from me.”

[juicyasstender]

tabletop games (nsfw)

fandom;; date everything

characters;; chance

cw;; no mentioned genitalia or pronouns (aside from the word succubus, but does that count?), basically open for interpretation, not proofread just silly/horny, spoilers for date everything

i'm on a roll today hehehe get it? anyways, enjoy some chance ;)

edit—the writing gets really bad towards the end (i finished it at like 2 am) so i am very sorry for the lack of quality. plus i'm not all that used to writing smut so this is gonna be bad to begin with djfbjdnf

Ever since you had gotten yourself into a relationship with your D20 (thanks to the dateviators you received), you've done quite a lot of roleplaying lately. Fantasy to cyberpunk, solo or with other objects, you've indulged in quite a lot of GnG than you normally would have.. not that it was a bad thing.

But it didn't slip by you whenever Chance would oh-so coyly sly innuendos into his words.. something along the lines of a different type of roleplay. At first, it seemed silly, but as time went on, you couldn't help but imagine just what it might be like to engage in the.. higher rated roleplays with him. His hands traversing your body like a hand-drawn map, his skillful tongue whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pressed his baggy pants to your hips, and the sharp and mischievous glint of his glasses whenever he picked up on your fluster. The possibilities were endless.

You couldn't help but be drawn towards the idea, yet whenever presented with the chance to offer it up, you found yourself clamming up each and every time. Of course, Chance's keen senses were quick to pick up on your nervous fidgeting whenever you'd give him an awakening, and who was he to let a potentially rivetting adventure slip him by? Perhaps you had something interesting in mind aside from his own fantasy worlds he would weave just for you.

"Is there something on your mind?" His voice snaps you out of your haze, your eyes flitting up to meet his own behind his red tinted glasses. You give him a wave, telling him that you're alright.

"You.. seem to be lost in thought. Is there something on your mind?" Chance tilts his head, the adorable look in his gaze causing your heart to practically jump to your throat. You wanted to speak, but you felt stuck. "Perhaps an idea for a campaign?"

Your words stay caught in your throat for a good moment, feeling your face flush with a sudden warmth as Chance stares expectantly for an answer, yet with a soft enough gaze as to not pressure you. And eventually, the words stumble out of your mouth as you finally force yourself to speak, "I was thinking of doing a.. different kind of roleplay..."

It takes Chance a moment to process, but once it clicks, his eyes seem to light up as a smirk adorns his lips. "I see.. and what did you have in mind?" His hand reaches out to your face, fingers trailing along your jawline and coaxing you closer to him. "I think I have a couple of ideas..."

You suddenly feel a rush up your spine as his fingertips grazed your skin, your knees going weak as you made a struggle to say something. Your flustered reaction elicits another chuckle from Chance's chest as he slowly backed himself up, taking a seat on the desk as he slowly but surely began to undo the string that kept his pants up.

"Here, why don't we try this..?" His pants fall to the ground, revealing the pair of dice-patterned boxers beneath. There was a prominent bulge beneath the fabric, leading you to believe that perhaps he too had been fantasizing about such.. steamy scenarios. "You can be a succubus, and I'll be your human feeder. I've got plenty for you to snack on~"

He uses one hand to teasingly tug his boxers down, his other hand bracing the desk as he slowly revealed himself, inch by inch. Eventually, his full length was on display, five inches that had your mouth watering already.

"Awh, you seem hungry. C'mere, baby," Chance cooed with a crook of his finger, beckoning you to come closer. You were so caught up in admiring his cock, you hadn't even noticed that you were crawling towards him, eventually settling your face between his thighs.

"Go on," Chance's hand threaded through your hair, his fingers a gentle caress even as he nudged your face closer to his erection. "I know you're hungry~"

You barely even hesitate as you mindlessly parted your lips, but you didn't quite put him in your mouth. Instead, you give the head of his cock a lick, coaxing a sample of his pre-cum from his slit and allowing it to coat your tongue. Chance lets out a soft shudder as you trail your tongue down his length, his hand lifting from your hair to rest against the desk.

"S-so warm..." Chance feels like he's about to melt already despite the fact that you've barely even started. Just feeling you lick and kiss at his throbbing shaft is already enough to make him cum on the spot, and you know it all too well. His eyes flitted down to meet your face, and yours flitted up to meet his, the both of you locking eyes. His glasses were slightly fogged over from his steamy pants, chest heaving with each shallow breath. It was adorable just how easy it was for Chance to turn into a mess at your fingertips.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally wrap your lips around Chance's cock, engulfing just the head and swirling your tongue around the sensitive area. Chance jolts at the sensation, hands gripping his desk tighter as he yelps your name.

"Holy Crit-! Just- just like that..! Yes...!" Chance's head falls back as you finally begin to move your head, his breath coming in short pants and heaves in a desperate attempt to gather the air you had practically knocked out of his lungs. Your mouth just felt so.. good. If he didn't know any better, he might've thought you were an actual succubus from the way you were sucking his cock.

He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, the tip kissing the back of your throat and making you gag before pulling away. The sight had Chance blinking out of his lust-addled state for just a moment, eyes widening as he fixed his posture before reaching out to cup your cheek.

"Are you okay? We can stop if you- hngh-!" Chance was quickly cut off as your mouth returned to his dick, practically falling back on the desk with a choked moan and shaky grip on the cool surface. At this point, he was putty in your hands, whining and desperately bucking his hips as if he were a dog in heat. His self-control was slipping and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.

"Please- please I- I'm- I'm gonna c-cum..!" He managed to whimper between pathetic gasps and mewls, any trace of dominance now lost to the wind.. or rather, the cool air of the office. You couldn't help but giggle as you continued to bob your head along his cock, and that was enough to make him explode.

His hand shot out to tangle in your hair, fingers digging through the strands as he tugged your face closer. With a loud cry, he shot his load right down your throat, painting it more and more white with each messy thrust of his hips. Even as he slowed down, he still didn't let go, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath once more.

Finally, his thick fingers released your head, allowing you to pull away as he leaned back against the desk.

"That was.. amazing..." Chance sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lolled his head to meet your gaze. Yet before he could ask if you were alright, he found you now towering over him, your hips now straddling his along the desk. "Ah.. wh- what are you doing-?"

You grabbed him by the die on his cloak, tugging him so that his face was mere inches from yours. There was a glint of hunger in your eyes as your gaze met his, and Chance knew damn well he was in trouble.

"Did you really think we'd be done there?"

[weemssapphic]

OKAY SO UHM SINCE REQUESTS ARE OPEN

I don't want to sound like I'm demanding but I am begging, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MORE OF CATRISSA, PLEASEEEE I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU

(of course you don't have to, I totally understand. I just want you to know that I love you and please keep writing. I love the passion and hardwork that you put on your works and I appreciate it a lot. You don't know how much your fics saved me from ending everything, I owe you one🎀)

hello lovely, first of all i am so so sorry it took me this long to get the motivation to write again and to write this, i doubt you even remember sending this but i hope it isn't awkward that i'm posting it now 😖 also thank you so so much for the message, so much love to you 🫶🏼

a/n: this is an older request, i have several new ones that i am working on but that aren't ready to post yet so enjoy this little drabble while i finish those up!

Surprise! Words: ~1k | ao3 link in title Tags: fluff, mild hurt/comfort, catrissa, shapeshifting

“Larissa?” you called out as you shut the door to your apartment behind you, dropping your keys onto a table in the hall and kicking off your shoes.

You were home a bit earlier than you’d said you would be — you had postponed some errands until next week, eager instead to get home to your girlfriend, who was staying with you for the weekend.

Larissa had texted you earlier in the afternoon that she’d gotten into town and had let herself into your apartment with her spare key, but your greeting was met with silence, so you wandered around in search of her.

The kitchen was empty, and so was the living room. Larissa’s laptop was on the coffee table, open to her screensaver, and you approached the sofa — jumping when you saw a cat curled up on the cushions.

So either Larissa, who was still nowhere to be found, had decided to surprise you by getting you a cat, or you’d left the patio door open that morning by mistake. Knowing yourself, it had probably been the latter.

You knelt down beside the sofa, watching the cat sleep for a moment. It was a beautiful cat, with long, snowy white fur, a round face, a pink nose. It appeared to be sleeping deeply, its whiskers twitching as it dreamed, and you couldn’t help but reach out and gently stroke its fur. 

“Hi there, little one…”

The cat slowly began to stir, stretching out its front legs, its paws, yawning widely, teeth clicking as it did so. Its eyelids fluttered a bit, then opened, the brightest blue you’d ever seen in a cat meeting your gaze — then widening almost comically as the cat startled fully awake.

Its fur bristled and it shrunk away from your hand, which you quickly retracted. 

“I’m sorry for startling you,” you whispered, shifting back on your heel a bit so that you weren’t so close anymore, gently offering your hand for the cat to sniff. It stared at your fingers, seemingly perplexed, its gaze darting between your hand and your face.

There was something strangely human about the cat’s expression, and something eerily familiar as well, though you shook off the feeling. It reminded you of Larissa in some ways, though that was probably just because it had blue eyes, and because Larissa had been on your mind when you’d found the cat.

“It’s okay… where’d you come from?” you asked, as if you expected an answer, waiting patiently for the cat to decide on its next move, wondering if it would let you cuddle it or if it would go running to wherever it came from. “Did I leave a door open?”

The cat shook its head and– the cat shook its head? Your brows knit together in confusion — it was as if the cat could understand you, the way its gaze was penetrating your own. 

“Can you understand me? Of course you can’t, that’s silly…” 

The cat had an almost remorseful look on its face, and slowly pushed its head against the back of your hand — something which you took advantage of immediately by scratching behind its ears, pleased when its eyes went half-lidded and it started to purr.

Then it stood, almost reluctantly, pulling out of your grasp and hopping down onto the floor. It stretched once, pawing at the rug as its back arched, and then, quite suddenly, your girlfriend was standing in the place where the cat had just been moments ago. 

You were so shocked that you fell backwards onto your butt, your heart racing like a hummingbird. 

Larissa stood before you, looking, for the first time since you’d met her, truly nervous and a little embarrassed. Her cheeks were tinged pink and she seemed to want to look anywhere but you as she smoothed a hand over her hair to get rid of nonexistent flyaways.

Silence stretched between the two of you, ringing in your ears. 

“Rissa…?” You finally managed to find your voice, pushing yourself to your feet and taking a tentative step towards your girlfriend, who seemed to be silently begging the floor to open up and swallow her whole. You wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly pulling her in towards you, giving her an out. “Is this okay?”

Larissa nodded sheepishly and you reached up to straighten her collar, your fingers brushing against her delicate collarbone in the process. 

“So you’re a… shapeshifter?” You knew that she worked at Nevermore and that she must be some sort of outcast, but she’d never mentioned it before and you didn’t want to pry, wanting her to tell you when she felt comfortable doing so.

“I am, yes,” Larissa replied quietly. “I’m sorry that you had to find out like this.” Her voice and expression were both subdued and guarded, as if she was expecting the worst, and it broke your heart.

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready… I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Your attempt at humor managed to draw an incredulous look and a suppressed snort from the blonde, whose cheeks darkened a shade. 

“That’s an awful joke,” she murmured, though her lips twitched at the outer corners.

You grinned. “I know.” Larissa still seemed embarrassed and you cupped her cheek, rubbing your thumb over it as if willing the redness to go down. “Why a cat?”

Larissa shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek as she seemed to deliberate. “It’s something I used to do to soothe myself as a child and I suppose it stuck… it’s a comfortable form to be in, I was tired after the drive down here…”

You couldn’t help but smile at her attempt to justify herself. “You know I don’t care, right? I just wasn’t expecting to come home to find a cat on my sofa, is all.” 

Larissa released a breath, finally allowing herself to relax a bit in your arms. “Thank you.”

“I’ve actually been thinking of adopting a cat and–”

Larissa’s nose wrinkled in mock-disgust. “I’m not a pet,” she huffed, and you giggled.

“But you make such a good cat, you’re so soft.”

“You can’t be serious…”

You pressed your lips to Larissa’s, humming softly, her hands coming up to cradle the back of your neck. “I’m not,” you mumbled with a smile. “I love you just the way you are.”

“And I love you,” she mumbled back, before deepening the kiss.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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[ratatoilett]

[the envelope is aged now. the paper inside smells faintly like him. it’s in his handwriting. it starts soft. it ends with your name.]

hey, sweetheart.

if you're holding this, i guess i'm not coming back. i hope the sun is up when you read this. i hope it’s a warm morning, the kind that smells like cinnamon and sugar from your bakery ovens, the kind you always said made life feel gentle again.

i wanted to start this letter like i always do. something dumb. something flirty. something me. but nothing feels enough. not for you.

so i’ll just say this: i miss you.

six months. half a year of silence between us. do you still talk to me sometimes? out loud? in your head? i hope so. i hope your voice never forgets how mine used to sound when i said your name like it was a prayer.

i’ve rewritten this letter so many times. on napkins. receipts. the back of mission reports. every time i tried to get it right, i realized there was no “right” way to say goodbye to the person who was my home.

how do you say goodbye to the only person you’ve ever loved without condition? you don’t. you just write, and bleed, and hope that somehow, your words reach them.

i’ve made a lot of mistakes in this life. too many. but you — you were never one of them. loving you was the one thing i got right. the only thing i’d do over and over and over, even if it always ended like this.

you were the soft place i never thought i deserved. the steady in my storm. the quiet voice in the back of my head that reminded me i didn’t have to be strong all the time. and still, i failed you in ways i’ll never stop regretting.

i should’ve stayed in bed that morning. should’ve kissed you until you laughed and told me to stop. should’ve told you — really told you — how much you saved me.

i was always running toward danger like it was the only thing that made me real. but you made me want to live. and not just survive — live. slow. soft. sweet. like sunday mornings and your hair still messy from sleep.

you were my beginning and my end. and now that i’m gone, i just need you to know: every choice, every breath, every time i looked at you like the sun had finally risen — it was real. we were real. and i hope to god you never forget that.

you gave me more love than i knew what to do with. and even though i never figured out how to hold it all properly, it never meant i didn’t treasure it. you were my favorite chapter. the one i dog-eared. the one i reread on the hard nights. the one i wanted to live inside forever.

i’m sorry i didn’t get forever with you. but you have to keep going. because your story isn’t over. and it deserves so many more pages.

please, don’t let my absence steal your joy. bake your bread. dance to that stupid playlist. fall in love again — if it feels right. and if it doesn’t, that’s okay too. just live. wildly, softly, honestly. like you always did.

and when the grief feels sharp again — because it will, sometimes — promise me this:

stand in the sun. close your eyes. and remember the way i loved you. the way i would’ve always loved you, if time had been kinder.

i’ll wait for you. not in some dark place. not in silence. but somewhere warm. somewhere with blue skies, and stupid sunglasses, and a table that always has room for two. and when you get there — when it’s time — i’ll be right there, arms open.

and i’ll say: “took you long enough.” and you’ll roll your eyes and say: “shut up, satoru.” and just like that, we’ll start again.

i’ll love you in the next life, too. and the one after that. and all the ones that never come.

with everything i had, – yours. always. satoru

p.s. i saved you the seat by the window. don’t rush. but i’ll be here.

[athenasdaydreams]

Bucky requesttt (if you have time!)

I'm a huge sucker for coffee shop stories 😭 what about a coffee shop AU where he slowly falls for a waitress there (and vice versa ofc!)?

Thank you for your consideration!!

pairing: bucky barnes x reader (coffee shop au)

summary: coastal cafes (and the people inside them) attract a certain super soldier

chapter warnings: food (it's a coffee shop au)

A/N: man i just submitted my analysis and discussion of findings... born to write fics all day forced to be an academic weapon... anyway, hope you enjoy!! i made this very beachy coastal vibes bcs i felt like it fit the vibe... hope youre not mad :)

The first time Bucky Barnes walks into Coastal Grounds, it’s just past sunrise. The sea mist curls along the glass, and the bell above the door gives a quiet chime. He’s damp from the walk, hoodie clinging to his back, hair curling slightly from the fog. There’s something wistful in the way he stands there—like he’s stepped into a memory.

You glance up from the espresso machine, hair pinned up in a soft twist, sleeves of your oatmeal sweater tugged past your palms.

“Morning,” you say, your voice still warm from sleep. “You’re new.”

He nods, a little cautious but not unfriendly. “Just moved in. Needed coffee.”

You gesture toward the corner table with the best view of the sea. “That one’s my favorite. You can watch the waves roll in.”

He hesitates for a moment before making his way over. You follow soon after, placing a mug of black coffee and a cinnamon scone in front of him.

“I didn’t order.”

You smile, soft and sure. “I know. First one’s on the house.”

He lifts a brow. “Why?”

“You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you could use something warm.”

He huffs a small laugh, and when he takes a sip, his shoulders ease just slightly.

Bucky hadn’t planned on staying long. This town was meant to be a quiet layover. Steve had once mentioned it—something about the sea air being good for the soul.

He came because he needed the silence. Not conversation. Not comfort. Just space to breathe.

His little cottage on the hill creaks when the wind picks up, but the kettle works and the view is enough to stop him from bolting. Most nights, the quiet creeps in too deep. But then he finds himself at your café.

First once. Then again. Then every morning.

You start greeting him before he says a word, already sliding his coffee across the counter.

“Rough night?” you’ll ask gently. He never answers directly. But you never ask again.

Until one morning, he surprises you.

“You always start baking this early?” he asks, nodding at the flour dusting your cheek.

You blink, caught off guard. “Scones don’t bake themselves.” You pause. “I hum when I work. You can probably hear it.”

“I can.”

You brace yourself, but then—

“It’s nice.”

Your smile catches him off guard. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes.”

He doesn’t correct you.

You learn his rhythms.

He always sits facing the door. Keeps his gloves on. Tips with bills folded too tightly. Flinches when the wind makes the bell clang.

So you adjust. Quietly. You oil the bell hinge. Lower the music when he usually comes in. Keep a scone aside just in case he’s late.

One Thursday, he doesn’t show.

You fold napkins until your fingers ache. Burn the second tray of muffins. When the door finally opens near noon, he’s soaked to the bone.

“Hey,” you say, drying your hands. “You okay?”

“Didn’t want to miss the cinnamon scones.”

You pass him one, still warm. “I saved it for you.”

He frowns. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

He eats in silence, slower than usual. The storm doesn’t let up. And when the last customer leaves, he’s still at his table, watching the rain blur the glass.

You sit across from him, not too close. “You don’t have to talk. I just… Are you okay?”

He exhales, like the breath’s been stuck in his chest for days. “I lost a lot. Before this.”

You don’t rush him.

“I didn’t come here to find anything,” he says. “Just needed quiet. Safe.”

You reach over and place your hand atop his, glove and all. “You’ve got that now.”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I think I do.”

Spring arrives in cautious stretches. You open earlier. He starts coming earlier too. One day he brings a toolbox and fixes the shelf that’s been threatening to collapse since January.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, halfway through pouring a latte.

“Better than staring at the kettle.”

The next day, he replaces the kitchen bulb.

“You’ve been squinting every time you walk back here,” he says simply.

You catch yourself smiling. Fold it away like a secret.

A week later, you find a note beneath the register. Scribbled on a napkin:

Your smile’s better than the sunrise.

Just signed: B.

You tuck it into your apron pocket. You don’t stop smiling all day.

The first time he offers you his jacket, it’s instinct. You’ve forgotten yours, and the wind’s sharp. He just shrugs out of his and holds it out.

“Take it,” he says, gentle but firm.

“You’re too good,” you mutter as you slip it on.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

The café glows behind you. The ocean murmurs in the distance.

“I didn’t think I’d stay,” he says.

“What changed?”

His eyes linger on yours. “You did.”

You don’t have the words, so you nudge him with your shoulder. “Good thing you like cinnamon scones, then.”

He laughs, low and warm. “Yeah. Good thing.”

Now he brings you wildflowers. Little ones from the cliffs. You keep them in a mug near the register, right next to his napkin note.

When you burn a batch, he just grins. “Guess that means more for me.”

Locals start teasing you both gently. You brush it off. Bucky doesn’t. He wraps an arm around your waist in broad daylight like he’s always done it.

He’s quiet, steady. Reliable in the way few people are.

Sometimes, when the café is empty, you sit across from each other in silence. Not awkward. Just… full. The hum of the sea. The soft clink of mugs.

You hum when you knead dough.

Now he hums with you.

Love, you think, might just sound like that.

-

Summer softens the edges of the town. The fog rolls in later, burns off quicker. The streets fill with tourists who don’t understand the rhythm of the place, who tap their fingers impatiently on the counter and complain about the sea air curling their hair.

Bucky never complains.

He just shows up earlier. Sometimes even before you flip the sign.

You find him one morning sitting on the front steps with two paper cups of coffee—his usual, and something close to yours.

“Thought I’d try bringing it to you for once,” he says, cheeks pink from the early chill. “Hope I got it right.”

You take a sip. It’s perfect. Too perfect.

“You remembered the cinnamon?”

His grin is soft. “I remember everything.”

He starts helping you open.

Carries the chairs from their stacks. Refills the sugar jars without being asked. Sweeps the back patio. Doesn’t say much while he does it, but hums sometimes—those soft 40s ballads he plays on his scratched old record player at home.

You start keeping non-fat milk in the fridge at the café for him. Full cream feels like too much. He starts bringing you honey from the Saturday market.

People begin to notice. Not in the teasing way anymore. But in that warm, knowing way that small towns specialise in.

You don’t say anything out loud. Neither does he.

But one morning, you catch him fixing the curtain rod in the storeroom, sleeves pushed up, forehead smudged with dust—and it hits you so hard your knees nearly give.

This is a man who knows how to stay.

One night, there’s a blackout.

The storm knocks out the power line, and you’re stuck at the café, candles flickering, emergency battery lights casting golden halos against the walls.

Bucky’s already there. He’d shown up early to help you close.

You sit across from each other at a booth, hands warmed by mugs of tea boiled on the gas stove.

“This reminds me of a blackout in Brooklyn once,” he says. “I was a kid. Ma pulled out every candle in the house. Steve and I made shadow puppets.”

He pauses, eyes searching the flame. “We didn’t have much. But it always felt like enough.”

You don’t speak—just nudge your socked foot against his beneath the table.

Eventually, he shifts closer. His hand finds yours, fingers worn but gentle. Your hands slot together easily, like they’ve done it a hundred times before.

“Do you miss it?” you whisper.

“Brooklyn?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No. The people, maybe. But not the noise. Not the way things rush past you.”

He looks at you.

“This place… it slows things down.”

You smile. “You’re allowed to stay, you know. Even if you didn’t plan to.”

“I know.”

Another beat of silence.

“I think I want to,” he says softly.

The first time he kisses you, it’s unplanned.

You’ve fallen asleep on the couch in the staffroom, apron still dusted with flour, hair slipping from its clip.

He’d stopped by with dinner. Knocked. No answer.

So he let himself in, placed the takeout on the counter, and found you curled up, arms tucked under your cheek.

He crouches beside you, brushing a curl from your temple.

You stir. Eyes flutter open.

“Buck?”

“Shh. It’s okay. Brought you food.”

You blink sleepily at him, lips parting in a soft smile.

And something in his chest cracks wide open.

He leans in and kisses you—slow, reverent, like you’re something precious.

You kiss him back without hesitation.

Later, you’ll tease him about it. About kissing you when you were half-asleep.

He’ll just grin, lean against the counter, and say, “I didn’t think I’d get another chance to kiss you when you looked that peaceful.”

“You could’ve just waited.”

“I already waited seventy years, sweetheart.”

By autumn, he keeps a toothbrush at your place.

Leaves his flannel jacket on the hook by the door. Buys groceries like it’s second nature. Kisses you in the middle of sentences.

You bake with his arm slung low around your waist. He reads the paper aloud to you, voice warm with humor. He lets you fall asleep on his chest while the rain beats the windows.

You trace the lines on his hands. He runs his fingers through your hair like he’s memorizing it.

You never talk about the word love.

But it lives in the quiet.

In the way he reaches for your hand without looking. In the way you save the last slice of pie for him, even when you want it.

In the way the lights of the café always seem a little brighter when he’s in the room.

-

wc: 1.7k

[he4rken]

IN THE NAME OF THE SPAWN! | one shot

WORD COUNT: 1,312

The most dedicated member of the cult offered to teach you how to pray properly, how generous of them! Though, you seem rather distracted instead.

— First and last Two Time fanfic before finishing requests... Pre-forsaken stuff here (?), for it to be realistic, reader is a new member to the cult*!! They have a little puppy crush. (I just really love writing for Two Time...)

*Again, cults aren't silly, Spawnism isn't a thing. It's all a work of fiction and I'm certainly not gonna influence people to join real cults.

WARNINGS: none necessarily found!

"It's more than a blessing that I can teach you everything properly, dear [Name]."

Two Time's voice met your ears, snapping you out from whatever dreamland you have entered a few minutes ago while they've lead you close to the alter.

"I'm sure it is...? Thank you, again." You managed to form a response quickly, shooting them a weak smile in an attempt to match theirs.

Right, right. You have to focus.

You've only been here for a few days. Majority of the time you barely know where to scramble or what to do, even with the clear warning of how The Spawn could be displeased very easily if you continue to keep up this reckless behavior.

Fortunately, Two Time offered during the activity of Arts and Crafts to show you how to properly get through it since you walk around like a lost lamb. Bit condescending in your opinion but... They've been here longer than you, lots of praises are said about them from the other members, too.

So you accepted. Two Time isn't gonna bite your head off.

"Anytime," they nodded slightly, tilting their head slightly towards the alter while they continue to speak. "Our Lord and savior asks and demands praise every day, but do not fret, it usually doesn't ask for much. Take yesterday as an example of when it asks for more, I'm certain you recall that clearly, right?"

Right. You do actually. Quite the baffling day you had too. One moment you were doing your tasks calmly and the next you were dragged right into the Nave where practically everybody started chanting or either singing for The Spawn. You could really only just sit there while staring at the guy next to you in confusion.

Apparently it isn't a first time thing with how Two Time spoke about it. You pressed your lips together into a thin line while nodding slowly. What where you supposed to say?

Surprisingly this widened Two Time's smile. "Wonderful, wonderful... I suppose for now I can show you how to praise The Spawn correctly. And when we again have enough free activity, I'll teach you everything that'll certainly give you its blessing. How does that sound to you, [Name]?"

It's... Definitely a start? At least you won't sit there like an idiot, even though whenever you did glance to the person next to you, they just had their hands clasped together while either having their eyes open or closed.

Bit idiotic you somehow still are lost despite how simple it is. You just pray, but pray about what exactly?

But you're getting lost in thought again, shuffling on your feet, you once again gave Two Time a nod. "That's good enough for me."

They took one step towards you, then another... And another. It's a bit awkward with how slowly they're getting closer towards you, as if they're reluctant on proceeding.

Two Time was already rather awkward. Rarely interacting with others, majority of the time so far you've seen them talk with this guy, Azure, as they have referred to him as. Sure, occasionally there was some small talk between you and Two Time, but not like either of you had something called "alone time" with each other till now.

It was understandable. Their awkward shuffling towards you was not understandable though.

"If.... I may." Two Time spoke up, gaze downcasted with both of their hands reaching out. Now that there was barely any distance between you two, their voice sounded a lot more softer.

You followed their gaze to where they were looking, with where there also reaching out to it was obviously your hands.

Oh. Well, that's fine. Looking back up to be immediately met with holding eye contact, you slightly tensed up before responding with barely anything. "Uh, sure."

With the green light they received from you, they proceed to fully reach and grasp your wrist gently, raising your hands in front of you while Two Time clearly looked like they were considering on how to properly explain this. Especially since they were in front of the alter where The Spawn could clearly see and hear everything they're doing.

Of course they couldn't upset their God. Especially not in front of it.

"It's best recommended if you hold your hands together preferably like..." Two Time moved their hands up to yours, motioning for you to clasp both of them together, which you did, obviously.

Perhaps not in the way Two Time personally likes, if that's even possible, as they somewhat immediately began to fidget around with your fingers on where they should be placed.

"Like this, [Name]! You'll be guaranteed to have the gratitude of your praises from The Spawn if you hold your hands together like this."

That's.... Just fantastic and very specific. Despite that, you shot them another weak smile while letting out a low "mhm" in acknowledgement.

"Now, dear [Name], how about a common prayer around here to boost yourself? I'll say one and you can repeat after me, alright?" Two Time necessarily didn't even wait for a confirmation since they immediately opened their mouth again by saying a prayer.

Well, at this rate you were barely listening. Something... Something.... Glory to The Spawn.... Oh this prayer is actually really long.

Not only were you barely listening but you're mind began to drift completely. Two Times gaze was once again downturned while speaking but you were definitely looking straight at them.

They haven't removed their hands from yours now that you think about it... Rather way too close for comfort too, you could practically make out any details on that were on their face. Somehow looking at them is way more captivating than listening to what they're still saying.

Two Time wasn't really that bad looking in your opinion.... They just really come off as awkward. But now that the proximity was slowly starting to sink in even more, your face was starting to become warm the more you were looking at Two Time.

You didn't even notice Two Time stopped saying the prayer a while ago, staying right back at you and waiting for you to repeat what they said, they were a bit puzzled on why they were only met with silence.

You were kinda looking a bit too red too... But they aren't gonna comment on that.

So, they did what's best and just... Stared right back at you, maybe you'll say something but no, you didn't. You continued to just stare at their face without repeating their prayer.

Did you perhaps not get it?

"[Name]." They said your name once.

".... [Name]." Then twice.

"[Name]?" The third time they said your name actually brought you back in reality, fortunately enough.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn't even form out a word or a small apology for a good few seconds since you were caught just staring at them. At least they waited patiently for you to manage to say something.

"... Sorry." You finally managed to croak out, that's all you wanted to say and not dig your own grave further. Two Time just stared at you for a good few seconds while tilting their head innocently to the side before tilting it back to its original place.

"No worries. Perhaps this prayer was a bit too long to take in for you." They responded, they weren't angry or upset, slightly understanding maybe if you squint hard enough.

"How about a shorter one? Perhaps that's more suiting." They offered, they we're really just being too kind... And you can barely listen to any prayer they uttered for you to also speak.

Ultimately, you slightly nodded. Receiving not only a brighter smile from them but also Two Time squeezing your hands slightly.

"Wonderful! Listen closely, alright?"

It's gonna really take a while for you to actually listen to a prayer and recite it...

[b0kevi]

cw for the request, i currently have a small sh addiction in a way and i wanted to know if u would write a male/GN yuu reader who came with sh scars and has a habit to not eat most of the time (cuz i do that), for the characters i specifically would like Deuce, Ruggie, Azul, Kalim, Epel, and Ortho! the ones in orange i would like more than the others if thats to many characters :))

it is perfectly ok if you are uncomfortable doing this request and i respect that wholly , thanks for making these fics and making my day enjoyable lol <33

(TW) Them with a reader who SH

summary: how they would react to a reader who has sh scars and doesn’t eat a lot

trope: hurt/comfort, angst if you squint, fluff

info: can be seen as romantic or platonic, up to you. tw about sh, ed. not proofread, masc reader, no specific pronouns used(i believe) I realized I made this more about ED than the SH..

characters: ruggie, kalim, epel, deuce, azul, ortho (jade, vil, leona, jamil, grim mentioned)

w/c: kalim: 519 ruggie: 488 epel: 378 deuce: 345 azul: 378 ortho: 300

a/n: as someone who struggles w this I get it. tho I've been a year clean, I still struggle w food n stuff but if anyone needs someone to talk to, my dms are open <3

ruggie

at first he didn't mind that you shared your food with him. free food is free food, who is he to say no?

he first thought you took pity on him thats why you would always give him big portions of your food.

"of course not! I just ate earlier so I'm not hungry."

that somehow always became your excuse. it was always 'im not hungry' 'i ate earlier' ‘I don’t like this anyways’ but would hear from grim that you haven't eaten anything since this morning.

you weren’t eating on purpose.

it’s not like he cared, more food for him. so why did it bother him so much?

he would leave snacks around you without a word. a snack on your desk, snack in your backpack, snack on your table, hoping you’ll just take it and eat it. (using leona’s card ofc)

you two were in savannaclaw folding everyone’s laundry. savannaclaw felt hotter than usual so you took off your blazer and rolled up your sleeves without thinking much of it, going back to your work.

at that moment ruggie had looked over at you. he had his fair share of bruises and scars from throughout his life but he knew those were different.

“soo… you gonna tell me what’s up?”

you looked at him puzzled, “sorry?”

ruggie sighed as he nodded his head towards your arms.

oh. right.

“it’s nothing just-“

“yeah that won’t work with me. Come on y/n, you don't have to if you don't wanna but I wont charge you or anything I'm pretty understanding.’’

It’s not that you didn't trust ruggie, you just didn't know how to bring it up.

You sighed— deciding you should tell him. you trusted him despite everyone else.

Reggie was surprisingly a good listener.

He's not the best at advice but it wasn't terrible. again ruggie has been through a lot himself so he would understand a bit. if you don’t want advice and just someone to listen to you, he’ll do that.

afterwards he still uses leona’s card to buy you food, he hates sharing but would give you small portions of his meals just to start. would somehow make time so you two can eat together since he also can go days without eating.

if you feel insecure about your scars he will show you his scars and tells you the story behind them, “this ones from jumping a fence while I was running away from the store clerk- listen the food was out in the open how was I supposed to know I had to pay for it? sheehee”

he can always sense when something’s wrong so will de-escalate before you get any ideas, he always keeps an eye on you just in case

you two are partners in crime, ruggie has your back and you got his. he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you no matter how much he denies it.

kalim

kalim had his suspicions but never said anything because he didn't want to upset you.

there would be time where he would subtly bring it up, hoping you'll open up to him.

"what happened y/n? did grim do that? or.."

he saw your scars and his grin faded, his heart felt heavy but he soon recovered and asked while hovering over your arms.

“oh yeah, grim doesn’t like getting up early so…”

a lie.

grim would never do that to you on purpose.

“right! well if you ever need anything i’m always here for you! i’ll get you whatever you want too! it doesn’t matter what it is!”

then when he noticed you weren’t eating, at first he thought you didn’t like the food or were allergic.

“is it too much seasoning? jamil makes the best food! its not poisoned! do you not like this?”

you would always reassure him that it wasn’t that, you just weren’t hungry at the moment.

kalim would always invite you over to eat, he wouldn’t force you to eat (maybe a little but he doesn’t mean any harm, it’s more like that one time he gave grim a cracker)

after the second week of excuses, kalim will finally bring up what’s on his mind.

“y/n… i’ve noticed you haven’t been eating, is something wrong? are you feeling okay?”

you once again try to brush it off, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but kalim isn’t going to brush it off.

“y/n, you can tell me if something’s wrong. i’m here for you and if you ever need something i’m here! you don’t have to fight this yourself, i want to help you, really.”

kalim truly wants you to know that he will do whatever to help you out, he already knows what happens when he doesn’t check in on people.

he doesn’t want you to bottle up your emotions like jamil did, he knows you won’t overblot but he saw the scars on you and he doesn’t want you to resort to that again.

when you finally do open up, he’s thrilled. he’s a very good listener and also very touchy, will hug you or have an arm around you, playing with your fingers, always lingering but will try his very best to restrain if that makes you uncomfortable.

afterwards he’ll always look out for you. if you eat a small portion he’ll congratulate you, “see! wasn’t that delicious y/n? want a little bit more? no? that’s okay you still ate something which is great!”

praises you for little accomplishments and will cling to you for a while until he sees you’re doing better. he will still cling to you even if you are better but that’s just his nature.

“you’ll tell me if you ever have those urges right? don’t hesitate to call when you’re feeling down okay? my magic carpet is super fast! i’ll be over like that whenever!” he snaps his fingers.

deep down he is truly worried about you and will do everything in his power to be there for you.

epel

honestly epel always thought scars were cool. i mean have you seen leona and how badass he looks?

epel never saw you differently. you were still you, you were still his friend no matter what.

he would never pressure you to tell him what happened. he didn't need to know, he was just glad you were here but whenever you do want to talk, he’ll listen closely while staring at them. not in a weird or disgusted way but almost like studying them, deep in thought.

“you’ve been through so much… these don’t change anything, if anything they show how strong you are. I think they make you look pretty manly too.” he grins trying to lighten the mood.

if you're insecure about your scars he would always remind you how manly or how cool and strong you look. if anyone has a problem with them they'll have to go through him.

when he notices your eating habits he tries to get you to eat at least an apple or something small to start.

“y/n you have to eat if you want to grow strong! bulk up those muscles! vil’s always on me for eating three meals a day and having a proper diet…”

he would always gift you apples but now every time he sees you he gives you an apple.

epel is always by your side kind of like a bodyguard but also a personal reminder, will intimidate anyone who looks at you funny. he will also give you a water bottle or a snack as a reminder to drink/eat something.

he might even seek help out from vil on how to help you out. he wants you two to grow strong together but he's not quite sure what to do.

epel is your personal hype man, he will make sure you feel good about yourself.

he might panic a bit if he sees you're upset, tries his best to calm you down or distract you so you don't do anything crazy.

"vil gave me this face cream that's supposed to help you calm down if you ever feel overwhelmed, here. if you ever feel like that let me know, I'll come over as fast as I can, we'll work it out together okay?"

deuce

when deuce first saw, he didn't know how to react. he didn't say anything in the moment, he didn't know what he should do. should he pretend he didn’t see? say something to comfort you?

He didn't want to upset you or make you uncomfortable with his staring or silence but he was quiet for a while that you knew something was up.

deuce always tries his hardest to comfort you but sometimes he can be messy but you always appreciate his efforts.

“it’s fine deuce, they’re old anyways…” you decide to just rip the bandaid off.

deuce is a great listener, nodding along to show his listening and paying attention to your words.

will give you a hug or rub your back if you’re comfortable with physical touch.

he will immediately go to riddle and ask for advice on how to help you. he wants to do whatever he can to show that he cares but doesn't want to mess it up so he goes for guidance.

deuce also has his fair share of scars from his delinquent days. "I know it's not quiet the same but they just show us how we became stronger. you're here now and that's what matters, we wouldn't have met if you didn't push through."

he always shares his food with you, he lights up when he sees you eating, it might not be much but its a start. he'll be with you throughout every step of your journey.

"this is my favorite, want some? is it good..? yeah? have some more! oh take your time no rush."

you can always feel his stare on you, he tries not to because he can see it sometimes makes you uncomfortable but he's making sure he doesn't miss any signs or signals that you might be feeling upset.

deuce is going to be for you this time, he doesn't want you to go back to those dark times again so he will try to prevent it and make sure you're happy with yourself and taking care of yourself as well.

azul

azul would be very understanding, when he noticed your eating habit and it would remind him of his younger self.

azul has always been self conscious of his appearance; he just tries to hide it. which is why he was quick to pick up on your eating habits.

azul knows you probably don’t want to have this conversation but when you’re constantly not eating he couldn’t take it.

“im not going to be your taste tester jade…” understandable.

“how do i know it’s not poisoned?”

“oh please I made it myself.”

“intriguing but i’m not hungry right now”

interesting.

he would watch you a bit before pulling you into his vip room and ask his burning question.

“y/n, I’ve noticed a pattern… what’s going on?”

of course you played naive. "what are you talking about?"

azul would become vulnerable with you, he should have pulled out a contract and tried to scam you but he didn't want to do that to you. he would most likely make you sign a NDA because he would open up about his past and issues, hoping you would too and does not want that to get out.

azul is not the best at comfort but will listen, he shares his experience to show you, you're not the only one and how he understands what it's like. he would offer his own advice if you ask.

azul doesn't care about your scars, they do sadden him a bit but youre still here and thats all that matters. he has the twins keep an eye on you to look out for signs in case you get overwhelmed.

azul would always drag you to the lounge and bring you simple meals at first, he would set you reminders but he was also your own personal human reminder as well to eat or drink something.

"I can't afford this-"

"free of charge." you stare at him.

"okay first few meals are free then you can pay me back later, but we'll discuss that later. eat." he would let you eat in the vip room so you guys would have privacy and can eat at your own pace.

he hates seeing himself in other people so despite everything azul does want to see you get better.

ortho

ortho knew the first time he saw you, he could read your vitals. all of them were below average, you didn’t need to tell him anything.

ortho would always check in on you. he's used to checking in on idia and reminding him to drink water and eat proper meals so he had no problem doing that with you. also doesn’t mind dropping off meals. ortho would push you a bit harder but he means well, he knows how idia can be so he pushes you in case you’re the same but he knows your boundaries and when to let you be.

ortho would always sit with you to make sure you actually eat, he doesn’t eat himself but he’ll pretend so it makes it seems like you’re both eating together and not just him watching you.

ortho always reminds you that he’s there for you, if you ever want to talk or hang out to get your mind off things.

I feel like ortho would give baymax vibes and look up solutions and gather friends to help you.

he’s super supportive and reassuring, but can be overprotective in the beginning, if he sees anyone being rude to you- he will not hesitate to get his laser out.

“y/n l/n! if you ever feel the urge to self harm, I have some alternatives that might help! if they don’t, don’t worry i’ll find more! please let me know if you ever feel like that, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you..”

"y/n l/n! It's time for lunch!"

"I already ate ortho"

"no you didn't, according to my scans you havent even eaten breakfast! come on let's go! you can't fool me y/n!"

he means well and is willing to lend a helping hand.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

a/n: I remember one time at work my coworker saw my scars and was like 'omg what happened? was it a cat?' I just changed the subject n said sure my cat (who has no front claws) did that..

IDK WHY EPEL IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE- i tried..

orthos part is def platonic.. idk if i need to specify for that..

[lenaswritingandstuff]

You're my home • Harry Potter x fem!reader

Requested: Yes ("Hii! I was wondering if you could do a fic where reader is dating Harry and she is introducing him to her parents, who she didn’t know were best friends with Lilly and James and they are so happy that she has brought Harry back into their lives and show him a bunch of their memories with his parents and he feels very welcome in her home and stays there every summer from there on" - Anon)

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader

Summary: After a horrible detention with Umbridge, y/n invites Harry to meet her parents, and he realized y/n is his home.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: parents (cause I know how traumatic they can be), fluff (cause I can't write anything else), English is not my first language

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so, so sorry it took so long for me to write it, but Uni (aka my personal hell on Earth) basically destroyed my mental health, and I lost all motivation to write lol. I hope you like it! ^^

[y/f/n= your father's name]

Today had already not been a particularly good one - and it was only the second day of the school year. The classes had seemed to take forever, the teachers had all decided to not be interesting, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything they said and the rain had decided to be there, too. As you walked towards the Gryffindor common room, the only thing that you wanted was to cuddle with your boyfriend. When you came in, you immediately saw Harry and his best friends sitting on one of the sofas. 

“Hey,” you walked closer in their direction.

“Hi, y/n.”

Harry gestured for you to sit beside him, and once you did, he gave you a quick kiss. And just like every time he kissed you, you felt butterflies in your stomach - which you used to think people lied about until he kissed you the year before at the Yule ball. 

“Had a good day?” Hermione asked. 

“Boring, and very long,” you sighed. “You guys?”

“Average,” Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Harry got detention.” 

“What?” you turned to Harry. “Why?”

“Well,” Ron said, “we had class with Umbridge, and she said that Harry lied about you-know-him’s return.”

I see.

You nodded, immediately understanding what followed. 

“And I imagine you said she was wrong, then she insisted that you were lying, and so on and so forth until she gave you detention,” you told Harry. 

“I had to defend myself,” Harry answered. “And she said Cedric’s death was an ‘accident’”. 

You let out a silent sigh, and took Harry’s hand in yours. You couldn’t really blame him, and understood that he had to defend himself when people - and there were a lot of them - accused him of lying, but you still didn’t want him to be in trouble. 

“Can’t Dumbledore do something?” you asked. “He knows you’re telling the truth.” 

“I’d rather not ask,” Harry said. 

His tone signified he wouldn’t change his mind, so you didn’t insist. You put your head on his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead. Still holding his hand, you felt his body relax a little.

“When is your detention supposed to be?” you asked him. 

“Every night of the week starting tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s beard.”

*-*-*-*

After that conversation, you wanted to help Harry relax, so you two went to the lake and cuddled there until dinner. He asked about your day - you were one year below him - and he told you about how McGonagall actually took his side when he was sent to her office, and even offered him biscuits. When you guys, Harry felt better, and you hoped it was the only time he would get in trouble this year. 

The next day, you went to Honeydukes to get Harry’s favorite sweets, and then waited for him to come out of Umbridge’s office. Ginny, one of your best friends, sat with you for a while. At some point, Hermione and Ron came to give you some food from the kitchen - as you had skipped dinner so that you could wait for Harry. After a few hours, he finally came out. He seemed a little bit pale, but still offered a small smile when he saw you. You kissed him and, as you often did, admired how handsome he was. 

“How was it?” you asked. 

“Not bad. I had to write…lines.”

“Oh, thank Merlin. I was worried she’d make you do something horrible. Here, Ron and Hermione brought you this from the kitchen” you said, handing him the sweets. “And I brought this from Honeydukes. To lift up your spirits.”

“Thanks, love.”

He reached out a hand to take them, and all of a sudden, you saw something red on his hand. 

“What’s this?” you frowned.

“What?”

He immediately put the sweets in the pockets of his robe, and kept his hand there.

“Your hand. It seemed red.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Harry, please. Let me see.”

As you had seen it, there was a red area, like a scar, on his hand. 

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I probably bumped into something.”

You nodded. “It’ll probably heal up quickly.’ 

“You’re right. Say, love, can we just go to the common room to eat all of this?” he said quickly. “I’m starving.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Are you alright?” you asked, now worried.

But you couldn’t have been more wrong. The next day - where you had class with Umbridge for the first time and she kept looking at you weirdly - and those that followed, you waited for Harry to come out of her office. After the third day, you had tried to take his hand, but he immediately pulled away, as if he had been stung.

“Yes.”

“Is it your hand? Did the redness get worse?”

“No, it’s…” 

He sighed, and showed you his hand. You gently took it to take a better look, and gasped.

I must not tell lies.

“Oh my God, Harry! How is…What happened?!”

“It’s nothing,” he said. 

“Yes, it is!” you frantically exclaimed, both furious and confused on why Harry wasn’t furious as well. “Harry, she can’t do that! We must not let her get away with it! We need to tell McGonagall and Dumbledore immediately.” 

“No,” he retorted. “That’s exactly what Umbridge wants. I won’t give her the satisfaction.”

“But, Harry-”

“y/n, please. I just want to go to dinner.” 

“Very well,” you said. 

Before entering the Great Hall, Harry made you promise to not tell Ron or Hermione, and you half-heartedly did. 

The next weeks that followed, things didn’t get any better. People constantly whispered mean things about Harry, and Umbridge basically gave him detention every time he was in class with her - and she also gave you one for a week after, sick of her lies and her false nice manners, you spoke up to defend him. 

“y/n, you can’t get in trouble because of me,” he had said when you told him. “Whatever she says, whatever she does, do not talk back. I can’t…I can’t have her hurt you, okay?”

You agreed, and he held you tightly. 

During your detention, you had to write “I must not listen to lies”, and the scar on your hand that it provoked got worse at every detention, just like Harry’s. He waited for you every night, just like you had waited for him, and each time he was more horrified, and held you tight for hours after. 

However, school break was coming soon, and you had an idea. Though your parents knew about you and Harry dating - and approved -, they had never met him, and you thought it would do him some good to leave Hogwarts for a while. You wrote to your parents to ask if Harry could come with you to your childhood house, and they said yes. The day after you got their answer, you found Harry waiting for you in the common room.

“Hi, darling.” 

“Hi, love.” You gave him a kiss. “I have something to tell you about.”

“What’s that?”

“My parents wrote to me, and said you’d be more than welcome to spend the holidays at my house. If you’d like. You don’t have to, of course,” you quickly added, “I’d understand if you’d prefer going to the Burrow-”

“Pretty girl, I’d love to meet your parents. Tell them I’m looking forward to it.”

“I will.”

And, so when school break started, you both used a chimney to go to your house. Your parents held you warmly, and it felt good to be home. They greeted Harry just as warmly, and even though he was a bit shy, it was obvious he was happy to be here. 

“Merlin, you really do look very much like James,” your father told Harry as he stared at him.

“Dad!” you protested. “Harry is tired of hearing this.”

“You knew my father?” Harry frowned.

“Yes,” your father nodded. “James and I both were in the same year, in Gryffindor. And, I have to say, we were close friends.” 

“And Lily was my best friend,” your mother added. “She was like a sister to me. y/f/n and I went to their wedding, and often visited him in Godric’s Hollow before the war. And we saw you several times as a baby, Harry.” 

“We were devastated when we learned of their deaths,” your father continued. “And we always hoped you were alright, wherever you were.”

“And we’re so happy to see you again, and that you’re dating our y/n.”  

You knew your parents were in the same year as Harry’s parents but you had no idea they were that close.

“I have a few photos from that time,” your father told Harry, “Would you like to see them, my boy?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, sir, I’d like to.”

Your father fetched the photo album while your mother made tea for everyone. You all sat on the sofa, and looked at the pictures as your parents shared some memories and the context of each of the pictures. You took several glances at Harry, and you knew how much it meant to him to see those pictures and to know more about his parents - and especially their years at Hogwarts. After the last picture was shown, Harry thanked your parents, and your father gave him some of the pictures. 

The rest of the day was spent playing Quidditch with Harry in the garden, and he smiled for the first time since the beginning of school year. You then showed him your bedroom and had dinner with your parents, who asked about how you and Harry did at Hogwarts. 

“Umbridge isn’t a good teacher,” you said. “But it’s fine otherwise.” 

You turned to Harry, who remained silent. You had agreed to not tell your parents what that woman did to you in order to not worry them. 

The rest of the school break was nothing but perfect. You absolutely loved being with Harry everyday - sometimes alone with him as your parents both worked -, being able to cuddle whenever you wanted, and to make things even more perfect, Harry got along really well with your parents, and seemed to really enjoy his stay. You were now cuddling in your bedroom, your head on his chest, both his arms wrapped around you and your injured hand on the side of his neck, its thumb stroking it tenderly. You turned your face to look at him, and caught him looking at the scar on your hand. After your detention with Umbridge, Harry had insisted on Hermione making a potion that would heal the wound faster and make the pain disappear every day until it was fully healed, and you knew that, even over a month later, he still felt guilty. 

 “I’m okay, Harry. I promise. Please, don’t feel guilty.”

There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” he said softly. “Not only for believing in me but also for never giving up on me.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll always be by your side, Harry. No matter what happens, no matter who we’re facing. Because I don’t want to be anywhere else, and because I love you. Not because you’re the ‘Boy who Lived’, but because you’re kind, brave, loyal, loving, and funny.”

He had a soft laugh before looking at you in a way he had never done before. 

“I love you too, y/n,” he whispered. “More than anything.”

He brought you closer, put one of his hands on your cheek, and lowered his head to kiss you.

*-*-*-*

Ten months later

“Harry, dear, what kind of cake would you like for your birthday?” your mother asked.

Both you and Harry were in the garden, with you sitting on the grass and his head on your lap. After the school year’s end, Harry had asked to come to your house instead of going back to the Dursleys. Dumbledore said Harry still needed to go there for a bit, as he was protected there, and then he could come to your parents’ house and spend the whole summer there - though both you and him visited the Burrow and stayed there several days. Harry’s birthday was tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait for him to see all the gifts you had for him.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. y/l/n,” Harry answered. “You don’t have to do anything, really.”

“It’s no trouble, dear”, your mother reassured, “y/n told me you liked chocolate, I could make a chocolate cake, if you want?”

“That would be perfect, thank you.”

“Of course, dear.” 

“Excited for tomorrow?” you asked him while gently stroking his jet black hair. 

“Not that I know there might be a chocolate cake, yes,” Harry answered.

You laughed and he had a smile.

“I’m very happy you’re here, Harry,” you said in a confessing tone. 

He raised his head from your lap but kept his head close to yours.

“I’m happy to be there, too. And I’m very thankful to your parents for making me feel at home, and to you, for simply being you. You’re my home, y/n. I love you, and I always will.”

You lowered your head to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I love you, too.”

And you knew you would love him until the end.  

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[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/731132350691491840/babe-i-was-so-drunk-last-night-like-a-lot-i-had

J, I was totally just stalking a bunch of posts your posts.. for fun..🕵️‍♀️ but I came across this one again, and gotta say, I go back to this one a lot.. I love it so much, it’s so fluffy and adorable. Please write more things like this 🙏 obviously no pressure, lmao, I’m just admiring your amazing masterpieces <3

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this but peter's actually trouble's bf this time :)

this but peter's actually trouble's bf this time :)

'my mouth is dry, i have a level ten headache and i really hate you for not closing your curtains all the way last night.'

peter doesn't move, he's locked in on his daily new york time games. first up is wordle. 'you have a hangover, you'll be fine.' you hide under the blankets but you're officially too awake and in too much pain to go back to sleep. 'thank you, dr. diagnosis.'

'don't get snappy at me, miss. i told you to cool it with the seltzers last night and you went on for five minutes about me trying to control you.' it sounds like something you'd do. it also sounds like you were a terror for peter last night. you give yourself a mental pat on the back.

'i've been awake for two minutes and my first words to you were my mouth is dry and you still haven't gotten me water. romance is dead and you killed it.' peter gets the word on the third row, he grins and backs out for the crossword. 'it's right next to you, trouble.'

you give the table next to you the side eye, a miserable sigh tumbles from your mouth. 'i'm supposed to get it all by myself? while i'm laying here and withering away?' your boyfriend reaches over you without hesitation. 'of course, my princess. how could i ever expect you to use your hands when you're riddled with sickness?'

you nod while chugging the water, it's about time he recognizes it. you gasp for air when you're done, your headache is marginally better. 'i need food or else i'm going to die.' if you had sunglasses, you'd be wearing them right now.

peter's staring at 34 across, 'what do you want?' his thumbs hover over the keyboard, you know the look in his eye. it means he knows the answer but he can't place it. you lean over to glance at the clue, 'bowie.' a satisfied sound comes from his throat. 'thank you.'

'i need a bagel with triple cream cheese and the biggest ice coffee they offer, then i'm going to need you to double it.' peter might just be the best boyfriend in the world because you're the one who drank last night but he's getting up and tugging on jeans to get you a hangover remedy.

'two plain?' he tugs a jacket over his shirt and zips it up halfway, 'one plain, one sesame.' you pout your lips and give him bashful eyes, 'pretty please.' peter stuffs his wallet into his back pocket and rounds over to your side of the bed to give you three short kisses. 'anything my baby wants, she gets.' he sneaks in a fourth, you don't mind it in the slightest. 'i love you.'

it's better than any dark room or comfort food, it makes you feel better in seconds. 'i love you too.'