#the second one is my favorite of this set

[eicsferrari]

never met - op81 smau

summary: people start making up rumors about oscar and yn. problem is they never actually met

face claim: random girls from pinterest

a/n: this is chaos but it was fun to write hope you like it

masterlist

જ ♡ જ

gossipf1 singer yn and oscar piastri are reported to be dating according to inside sources

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user5 please let this be true

lando rue, when did this happen?

user14 helppp what is lando doing here

user3 my two worlds colliding

user7 she's not good enough for him

user8 ?? he's not good enough for her

yn inside sources who??? i never saw this man in my life😭😭

user10 he's a formula 1 driver

yn oh i only know lewis hamilton aka the goat aka the loml

user10 fair

yn he looks cute tho👀

sabrinacarpenter no yn!

yn 😊😊

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yn posted a story

caption: this is the man yall think i pulled? Damn thank u

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↪sabrinacarpenter you are insane😭

↪lando +61 12345678 text him

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yn jazzy nights are my favorite

♡liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri and others

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user6 best night of my life

sabrinacarpenter i'm in love with you😍

yn me when i see you

user1 oscar liked...

user4 don't start

user1 i just stated a fact

user9 obsessed with your voice, i want you to sing me to sleep every night

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gossipf1 yn and oscar spotted hanging out after her concert

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user8 i fear this couple would be too iconic

user4 just... no

user5 i dont know this man my ass

yn in my defense i really haven't met him then!

lando it's true i can confirm

lando i can also confirm yn was oscar's most listened artist last year

oscarpiastri why are you here?

lando gossip is my bat signal

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yn trip made it out of the groupchat

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lando groupchat and it's only two people

yn get off my comments

lando i got you his number and this is how you repay me?

user9 lando tell us who it is🙏🏼

user3 if lando set them up it has to be oscar

user7 i'm in love with her aesthetic

user5 white shirt=oscar

user14 stop we don't know

sabrinacarpenter did my invite get lost in the mail?🤨

yn babe i'm sorry he means nothing you are the love of my life

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri posted a story

caption good company yn

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↪user4 gossipf1 ended up setting you two up huh

↪sabrinacarpenter i remember when i was the one taking her pictures...💔

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yn sorry osc i go where lewis goes🏎️

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oscarpiastri 😐

user4 osc��🥺

scuderiaferrari everyone is a ferrari fan ♡liked by author

francocolapinto hamilton fan first, a girlfriend second. i respect that

user5 did he just confirm that they are girlfriend and boyfriend?

mclaren 💔

yn sorry😔

charles_leclerc i approve son oscarpiastri

yn forza ferrari!

user26 we lost her to a sports guy...

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oscarpiastri posted a story

caption prettiest girl is in fact my girlfriend

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↪yn giggling blushing throwing up kicking my feet🥺🫶🏼

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yn posted a story

caption he's still mad i did not wear orange

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↪lando it's papaya not orange😡

yn same fucking thing

lando it's not !!

yn ok but the word papaya is so ugly

lando YOU TAKE THAT BACK

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yn the rumors are now true, i'm his favorite artist and he's my (second) favorite driver

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user18 she's gorgeous😍 he's just there😐

francocolapinto yes yes you might kiss but did he ever say he wanted to learn your language just to understand your jokes? i don't think so

yn call me when you are his top artist on spotify loser

user12 don't mind me i'm just patiently waiting for the love songs this will inspire

oscarpiastri you are never going to let me live this down, right?

yn you are stuck with me and my bad jokes sorry bro

sabrinacarpenter just remember she was mine first papaya boy

oscarpiastri noted🫡

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oscarpiastri she finally wore papaya

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user2 she's so hot🥵

yn not that word again😭

lando i will block you if you keep hating on the papaya

yn do it i dare you

yn i look so good tho

oscarpiastri you always look amazing

yn i love me a boy who can sweet talk

lando god stop being cheesy on main🤢

yn weren't you going to block me??

lando i should have

yn just do it you coward

user23 yes yn put the car guy in his place!

lando why are you supporting her when your page is dedicated to me??? are you a fan or a hater?

user23 i'm your biggest fan! but i support women's rights and women's wrongs so i'm with yn

yn HA even your fans like me better😛

lando you stole my teammate and now my fans what else do you want from me😭😭

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lando posted a story

caption disgusting

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↪yn disgustingly cute yes

lando whatever helps you sleep at night

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oscarpiastri posted a story

caption dont let their online banter fool you, they are friends

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↪yn babe don't expose us like that😔

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oscarpiastri 🧡

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yn DELETE what if lewis sees this?

user21 she's so real

lewishamilton i feel betrayed

yn nooo💔😔 you will always be n1 in my heart

oscarpiastri 😐

yn deal with it

yn i am so incredibly proud of you and i love supporting you🥺🧡

oscarpiastri thank you for being here<3

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yn posted a story

caption i'm going to tell my kids this is their dad

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yn posted a story

caption just kidding, i love you oscar

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↪ oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

[shawtylex09]

Late night hangout. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Stoner!Reader.

Warnings; mentions of weed use, cursing and smut (including non-established relationship and virginity loss.) Minors DNI.

All characters in the fic are third years, and at least 18 years old. <3

Enjoy .~•*

——————————————————————————

Izuku’d been laying in bed for who knows how long, his mind refusing to shut off as he tried to rest. It seemed to be no use. He guessed it was anxiety, it made a lot of sense for him.

He sighed and rolled over on his side, hugging his pillow to his chest as a frown settled on his face. He just wanted to go to sleep, or at the very least- have a clear mind.

Izuku closed his eyes gently and was finally beginning to settle a little, when his phone suddenly went off.

He jumped and sat right up, before letting out a breath and grabbing his phone.

“Y/n..?” He mumbled, staring at your contact name, effectively set as ‘Bug.’

Izuku picked up the call, holding his phone to his ear “hey Y/n! What’s goin on?” He asked, curiosity covering up his fatigue and growing anxiety from laying in bed silently.

You took a deep drag from the weed cart you had, letting the smoke out with a lazy smile “Hey Zuku, ‘m kinda high as hell right now” you laughed breathily, coughing a bit afterward.

Izuku sighed and rolled his eyes, smiling “of course you are.” He knew about your little ‘habit.’ He also knew you weren’t the only one in the class who smoked or did marijuana in some form.

You let out a long sigh and closed your eyes, feeling your body spinning “Zu…I wanna cuddle” you whined, your high brain demanding the serotonin from Izuku’s gentle touches and soft caresses.

Izuku blinked and looked at the time. It was 2:24 on a school night, and you wanted to have him over? He blushed at the thought and shook off any impure thoughts.

“You want me to come over..now??” He asked incredulously, to which you nodded (despite the fact he couldn’t see you) and whined “please..? My balcony is already unlocked, so you can just..hop on it..right Bunny?”

He blushed and practically melted at that nickname. Izuku couldn’t deny the little bit of heat that dropped into his stomach at the prospect of hanging out with you after curfew.

He let out a long sigh, before smiling a little

“I’ll be there in five.”

.~•*

Just like Izuku had promised, he leapt onto your balcony roughly 5 minutes later, sliding open your glass door and shutting it behind him. “Hey” he greeted with a small smile.

You looked at him, your eyes half lidded and bright red, with a dopey grin on your face “there’s my favorite person”. You mumbled softly.

You were laid on your bed wearing a baggy tee and some loose sweats, the neck of your shirt dipping down and exposing some of your cleavage.

Izuku blushed as you opened your arms to him “cmere Bunny” he was actually so weak for that little term of endearment.

He dumbly walked over, sitting on your bed, before you yanked him down to cuddle with you.

Izuku was stiff for a moment, before he relaxed and smiled softly.

You shifted to lay on top of his form, resting your cheek on his chest as he played with your hair.

“Mm…feels.nice” you mumbled, to which Izuku nodded “it does. Did you know, cuddling is actually really good for your brain? It helps to reduce stress and boost positive emotions in the body.”

18+ beyond this point!.~•*

While he rattled off some random fact, you couldn’t help but focus on the bulge your thigh was pressed against. In your tired and high haze, you were trying to figure out what it was. Did he have his phone in his pocket or something?

Without giving it a second thought, you reached down and grabbed what was pressed into your thigh.

Izuku gasped and tensed, his face flushing red as a feminine whine left his lips “a-ah- Bug? What are you doing..?” He asked, clearly embarrassed about your hand positioning and the sound that left him.

You glanced up at his face before it clicked what you were touching. You grinned and shrugged “dunno, I wanted to know what was pushing into my leg” you said as you slowly dragged your hand up and down the clothed bulge.

Izuku’s eyes closed and rolled back at the touch, another little sound leaving his lips, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper “Y-y/n- oh god-”

He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking sligjtly at how good your hand felt.

His brows furrowed and he cracked an eye open to see you gazing at him with half lidded eyes “Izuku..” you whispered, in awe of his sweet little sounds.

Izuku felt his breaths pick up at your whispered iteration of his name. Her placed a hand over his mouth loosely and whined “Y/n…”

You blushed brightly and applied a little more pressure, but still kept your pace slow and gentle.

Izuku’s head fell back against the pillows as a soft hum of pleasure reverberated from his throat “god..that- that feels good”. He whispered shakily, his voice hoarse and his tone shy.

You smiled softly and sat up off of him. You placed your knees on each side of his hips, pressing your clothed core to his clothed cock.

Izuku’s eyes widened as you adjusted your positions, straddling his hips. “Wait- Y-Y/n- are you sure? Y-you’re high and I don’t- gyah!”

You cut him off with a roll of your hips “so sensitive” you mumbled to yourself. You placed your hands on the bed on either side of Izukus face.

He writhed under you, his brows knitted together as pleasure shot up his spine. Izuku’s voice bent in ways you’d never imagined, his tone whiny and so soft, so embarrassed as he let out a few small whimpers and mewls of pleasure.

You smiled a little as he gripped the sheets, peeling one of his hands away from the black sheets of your bed, and placing it on your hip.

Izuku looked up at you hesitantly, a shy expression in those round doe eyes. “Y/n..are you sure? Is this okay?” The sweet boy was always so worried about others, it made your heart melt in your chest.

You have a nod and leaned down, “‘m sure” you murmured gently.

Izuku just nodded at your words and closed his eyes fighting back a whimper as you gave another deliberate roll of your hips.

A groan left you, it just felt so good. Izuku’s cock was rubbing against you perfectly, it was hard under your weight, and sent shockwaves of white hot pleasure up your stomach and to your brain.

After a bit more of the slow grinding, you shifted off of his lap. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed more.

Izuku looked down at you and tensed as you grabbed his shorts. You tugged them down, and he froze. You paused your movements and cracked a smile, before laughing.

There, wrapped around his lower body, were a pair of All Might themed boxers.

Izuku’s face dropped into a mortified one, and her covered his face “oh my god- I-I’m so sorry- I had no idea I was wearing these I didn’-“

You shook your head and smiled affectionately “Bunny, it’s okay, really” you waved him off “it’s not a big deal.”

Izuku peeked out from his fingers, feeling humiliated before he let out a sigh “you’re not..weirded out or anything..?”

You shook your head and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his manhood through the fabric of his boxers. You smiled up at him “of course not” you murmured softly “I couldn’t be angry or weirded out with a face that cute”

Your tongue slipped out to gently run across the head of his throbbing cock, feeling the warm precum that dampened his boxers.

Izuku tensed and gasped, blushing and letting his eyes fall half lidded “oh..Y/n..” he mumbled, placing a hand on the back of your head and gently feeling your hair between his calloused digits.

You smirked a bit as you gently tugged down his boxers next. You pulled away to slowly push down your sweats and underwear, exposing your lower half to Izuku’s shy gaze.

He blushed brightly and looked away, his body trembling with excitement, he was really about to do this- and with you of all people.

You smiled as you got back into his lap, cupping one of his cheeks while the other aligned his length at your entrance “Look at me, Izuku” you murmured gently.

He could barely hold your gaze, his body on fire and his doe eyes half lidded as he gazed at you “Y-Y/n..I-I’ve never done this before..” he said shakily. He was nervous about your reaction, but you simply smiled.

You gently tucked his hair behind his ear, “Zuku..I’m not worried about that..I’m gonna take care of you….alright?”

He gave you a nervous look, but seeing the conviction on your expression made him relax. Izuku let out a shaky breath and nodded “yeah..okay..I’ll trust you..”

You hummed approvingly “are you ready, love?” You asked, gingerly running your thumb over his cheek.

Izuku glanced down to his cock, quickly looking away at seeing how close you were to taking his virginity. His face exploded in a red blush, but he nodded “p-please..I’m ready” he said softly.

You smiled and nodded. Excitement and nervousness bubbled inside of you, before you let out a slow breath and carefully lowered yourself onto his aching cock.

His eyes widened and he let out a loud whine, “oh- oh Bug!” Izuku’s face was scrunched up with pleasure, his stomach tight and his fists balling up the sheets under him.

A drawn out moan slipped past your lips, and your eyes rolled back. You could feel every angry vein on Izuku’s length pressing against your insides, your walls tightly constricting around Izuku’s cock.

Izuku was a trembling mess, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth and his muscles taught like tight rubber bands.

You looked at his face and grinned, before rocking your hips. A moan tore itself from you, feeling Izuku’s thick and hard dick slip easily in and out of you.

Izuku writhed beneath you, gasping and panting, babbling mindlessly as you slowly rode his cock, your hips gently rolling and rocking in his lap “that’s it Izuku” you praised, carding your fingers through Izuku’s curly locks of hair.

He let out high pitched whines and whimpers, desperately clutching onto the sheets “Y-Y/n- oh god please don’t stop- ah!” A ragged moan tore from his lips, and he arched his back off of the bed.

“Good boy” you panted out, heavier moans and deep groans leaving you “fuck you feel so good” you muttered against the skin of Izuku’s neck, the added sensation sending stars into his vision.

He shakily reached up to cup your face in his scarred hands “please- please call me that again- please Y/n”

You raised a brow and felt arousal snap through your body. The knot in your stomach tightened and you groaned. You sat up a little more, sending his cock deeper into your aching core “fuck..you’re such a good boy baby” you moaned out.

Izuku gasped and closed his eyes tightly “Y-Y/n- I-I’m about-“ he let out a long and choked moan, the hot coil of pleasure in his stomach finally snapping.

You blushed, feeling hot ropes of cum shoot out of his cock and inside of you. You panted and swallowed, feeling it fill you full. Shakily, you lifted yourself off of his lap and shuddered at the feeling of being hollow, before laying beside him

“Christ..that’s so much..” you mumbled, to which Izuku blushed and looked away “yeah..” he panted bresthlessly ��h-hyperspermia..”

You nodded and smiled, feeling sleepy affection wash over you.

“Stay the night..?” You asked sleepily, cuddling up to his side, to which Izuku flipped on his side to hold you face to face.

“Of course..” he mumbled back tiredly.

You yawned and let out a heavy sigh “goodnight Bunny..”

Izuku closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “Goodnight Buggy..”

First ever smut I’ve written on tumblr beforeeee..

Low-key stole the hyperspermia idea from @cvnt4him because I EAT their work bruh.

Anyways I’ve had strep or some throat thing going on for the past few days so I’m tired asf lol

[princesseilish]

PARROT

Billie Eillsh x Fem!Mom!Reader

Warnings: slight swearing, use of y/n? a pinch of funny

Synopsis: billie couldn’t help herself, and now Rosie can’t help herself either

It was supposed to be a simple grocery trip.

Y/N had explicitly instructed Billie to keep it together. They were just grabbing a few things for Rosie’s upcoming second birthday party—balloons, snacks, maybe a cake mix. Nothing complicated, nothing that should’ve been an issue. But Y/N should’ve known better.

“Babe, do we need more of that organic juice Ro likes?” Billie called from the next aisle, pushing the cart with Rosie sitting happily inside, her tiny hands wrapped around the bar.

Y/N, examining a box of birthday candles, glanced over. “Yeah, grab a couple bottles. The mango one.”

“Got it.”

It was going fine. Too fine, actually.

Until they hit the produce section.

Billie was trying to grab a bundle of bananas from the display when, naturally, the entire pyramid of fruit decided to betray her. A bunch tumbled to the floor with a loud thud, rolling in every direction. Billie, already flustered, muttered under her breath, “What the fuck.”

Y/N’s head snapped up like she’d been electrocuted.

“Billie,” she hissed, eyes darting to their daughter.

But it was too late.

Rosie, wide-eyed and always eager to mimic her favorite person in the world, opened her tiny mouth and proudly repeated, “What the fuh!”

Y/N’s soul left her body.

Billie froze, bananas still in hand, her face a perfect mix of horror and disbelief. “Oh, shit.”

“Billie!” Y/N practically dropped the candles as she rushed over, grabbing Rosie from the cart like she could somehow squeeze the word right out of her.

Rosie giggled, thinking it was all a fun game. “What the fuh! What the fuh!”

Y/N’s jaw clenched so tight she thought her teeth might crack. She turned slowly to Billie, who was trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Billie Eilish,” Y/N said in a tone that could curdle milk, “what the actual fuck—I mean—heck—heck is wrong with you?!”

Billie bit her lip, attempting to stifle a snort but failing miserably. “Babe, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to?” Y/N’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as she pointed at their gleeful toddler. “Her second birthday is in three days. Do you really want our daughter to be the kid who blows out her candles and yells ‘what the fuh!’ in front of everyone?”

Rosie clapped her hands excitedly. “What the fuh!”

Y/N shot Billie a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “No, Ro, that’s a no-no word. Bad Billie.”

Billie winced like she’d been physically slapped. “Hey, c’mon, it’s not like I taught her on purpose.”

Y/N set Rosie back in the cart and grabbed the bananas out of Billie’s hands with a dramatic huff. “You’re on cleanup duty. And you’re explaining this to my mom if Ro slips up.”

Billie groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. “Your mom already thinks I’m a bad influence.”

“Well,” Y/N muttered, pushing the cart down the aisle, “now she has proof.”

Later that night, after Rosie was tucked in—without uttering any forbidden words, thank God—Billie shuffled into their bedroom looking like a guilty puppy.

Y/N was curled up with a book, doing her best to ignore Billie’s presence, even as Billie flopped dramatically onto the bed beside her.

“Babe,” Billie whined, nudging Y/N’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N didn’t look up from her book. “You corrupted our daughter.”

Billie groaned, rolling onto her back. “It was an accident! I swear, I’ll fix it.”

Y/N finally glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do you plan on fixing that?”

Billie grinned, pulling Y/N’s book out of her hands and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Simple. I’ll just teach her other words to say instead.”

Y/N sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Like what?”

Billie sat up, her face serious. “Like… ‘What the fudge!’ Or ‘What the flip!’” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Or we could go full grandma and teach her to say, ‘Oh, sugar!’”

Y/N finally laughed, shoving Billie’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.” Billie grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “And I love you. And Ro. Even if she’s a tiny parrot.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her heart melted all the same. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Billie wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her into her chest. “Lucky? Nah, I’m just smart. I got you and Ro, didn’t I?”

Y/N sighed, snuggling into Billie’s warmth despite herself. “Just… try not to turn her into a sailor before preschool, okay?”

Billie chuckled, kissing the top of Y/N’s head. “Deal. But if she slips up… I’m blaming you for teaching her ‘heck.’”

Y/N groaned, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Life with Billie might’ve been chaotic, but it was theirs—bad words, bananas, and all.

[spread-the-influence]

I know its never gonna happen ever not ever, and that you only got the ragatha brainworms, but its been stuck in my brain since the jax murder.

if ragatha hadn’t been virus’ed, yet somehow still got to the point where jax says “to have a friend” (unlikely), would jax have actually opened up, or just shuttered himself as soon as the concept of being open sets back in? Could he have improved had he not been ganked?

forgive me for the essay below . ragatha may be rotting my brain but i still have elaborate thoughts on the other characters , even if i don't go to the levels of insanity i go for ragatha .

jax , to me , is a deeply lonely and miserable person , and i will say here that the line was kind of more ' a person that'll see and understand me ' . my interpretation of jax is not as charitable as most interpretations of him i've seen , though — he's not a jerk with a heart of gold or is secretly protecting everybody . he's just someone with a very destructive coping mechanism that harms everybody and himself .

he doesn't really see the cast as People , he sees them as Characters . a Cast in the big theater stage that is the circus . he prefers to do what's not boring by going off-script . this means making a mess out of the stage set , bothering the characters , and doing what he's Not supposed to do . it's entertaining ! it distracts him from how ... he's stuck in this stage forever . if he goes with the script , that fact would weigh on him . it's better that he does Not think about that . everyone would be surprised by how quickly that would make him lose his mind .

but it isn't fulfilling . it's a Distraction , an Avoidance . it's something that he does to Not confront his issues . my interpretation of jax at least puts up an emotional wall not Just because he doesn't want people to see his vulnerable side ( i like to think that the one thing he hates is being Wronged , and there's a certain level of suspicion that someone in the cast would do it if he lowers his guard ) but because he thinks there's No reason to put it down .

jax , like a lot of people , craves a community . he wants to be Wanted and Loved . but it's hard for him to get both of those things when these people are just ... Not real to him . what he wants most is That realness . he wants to know that in this big stage he's stuck in , there's someone else who is just as lost as him . someone that also isn't playing by the script . someone that's not a Character .

... and ragatha really doesn't fit those , as much as i'd hate to admit it . she is a Character . she plays the role of the optimistic and caring ragdoll . she is Far from fitting the image of a real person in jax's eyes . that conversation would naturally end in jax realizing he's opening up and shutting himself off — most likely Even more than he already does . basically he wouldn't improve ... with ragatha .

if there's someone that might fit the above paragraph , it's either pomni or zooble . i feel like these two would have better chances of making jax slowly open up with that kind of conversation , since they're both the most grounded and Real people in the circus .

i do not think that it would make jax instantly accept into the community of the circus — years of bad habits are Not easy to drop — but it'll be like a hand being extended to him . he sees that there's a world beyond the stage , and he takes it . and that's a lot more fulfilling than distracting himself .

lord i feel like this post is a contender enough to warrant a second ESSAY WARNING tag but yeah , jaxxle thoughts ! he's not in my top three favorites ( those respectively go to caine and zooble ) but i still find him interesting to think about .

[wondergirlsthings]

Pranking Jude Bellingham by Calling Mbappé My Favorite

Jude Bellingham x Reader

You secretly set up your phone while Jude Bellingham sits next to you, scrolling through his own. He looks completely relaxed, unaware of what’s coming.

You clear your throat. “You know… I think I finally decided who my favorite footballer is.”

Jude doesn’t even look up. “Easy. Me.”

You hold back a smile. “Actually… I think it’s Mbappé.”

Jude’s fingers stop moving. Slowly, he lifts his head, staring at you like you just committed a crime. “Huh?”

You nod, keeping a straight face. “Yeah, I mean… he’s just so fast, so talented, always scoring goals. He’s just different.”

Jude leans forward, squinting. “So… not me?”

You shrug. “I mean, you’re good, babe, but Mbappé? He’s just next level.”

Jude blinks. Once. Twice. Then he leans back dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Wow. Just… wow.”

You try not to laugh as he shakes his head, staring off into the distance like he’s in a sad movie. “After everything we’ve been through? After all the times I scored and looked for you in the stands? This is how you repay me?”

You bite your lip. “It’s not personal, babe.”

Jude scoffs. “Nah, it’s personal. Mbappé? Really? You like tap-ins that much?”

You gasp. “Jude!”

He smirks. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll just text Haaland. Maybe I’ll start supporting him instead.”

Your eyes widen. “Jude, don’t you dare.”

Jude crosses his arms. “Maybe he’ll actually appreciate me.”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, relax. It’s a prank!”

Jude narrows his eyes. “A prank?”

You nod quickly. “You’re obviously my favorite. No one comes close.”

He watches you for a second, then smirks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Before you can react, he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in a hug.

“Jude—” you start, laughing.

“Nah,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Now you have to make it up to me. I need cuddles for emotional damage.”

You sigh, still laughing. “Fine. But you’re so dramatic.”

Jude grins. “No more Mbappé talk, and we’re good.”

[TikTok ends – comments go crazy]

Top Comment: “Jude took that WAY too personally 😭😭”

Second Comment: “‘You like tap-ins that much?’ JUDE STOP 💀”

Third Comment: “The way he got all clingy at the end 🥹😭”

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Thank you so much for the tag, @valiantarcher! I'm posting a gif from each of my top 10 movies without saying what they are and then tagging 10 people.

I’m tagging @moonlightandstarshimmer, @daisyejones, @effulgentpoet, @amiablesummer, @cozy-possum, @ladyrock18, and anyone else who would like to participate! :)

[greyowl-archives]

Thin Ice ~ A.H

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

cw: kind of secret relationship that only the team is really aware of, agent!reader, Hotch being angry (my favorite gender), insecurity, a bit of angst if you squint, wife!reader, injury, blood, protective!Hotch

a/n: Second fic Rah! Woah this is longer than I thought. Soz for the delay guys, got caught up in some uni work but will try my best to put something out once a week. Don’t know how I feel bout this one if I’m being fr.

Summary: A retired agent comes back to assist with a case and immediately decides he has it out for you. Hotch is tempted to call him out for it but you assure him it’s fine. That is until the agent carries out an outrageous idea that puts your safety in jeopardy. Your husband leaves the agent with a bit more than just a warning.

“You’re here early” You heard Rossi comment as he walked into the conference room.

You gave a half hearted hum, not looking up from the files you were reading over. “early start to my day” you replied. “Managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour last night”

That wasn’t entirely untrue. You were out practically the moment you put the kids to bed and collapsed into yours. The reason you were up bright and early, however, wasn’t by a well timed bedtime but rather the fact that by the time it reached four in the morning and you’ve already woken up practically every hour before then, you decided to just get up and get a head start at the bureau.

Aaron was going to be on your ass today.

Your lack of text message from him this morning said as much. You knew he had felt you shifting restlessly around in the bed and there was no chance he didn’t wake up when you quietly slipped out a few hours later. And since nothing got past that man, you knew he would’ve seen the trashed remains of the not one, but two cups of coffee you hastily downed before your departure.

Any moment now, he was going to walk in, Wednesday today so he was going to have his grey suit on with the red tie. You liked that suit on him, it was one of your favorites, and he will definitely use that fact to his advantage. He’ll greet the team and just as he reaches his seat next to you, he’ll catch your eye with a fleeting look, one that with three years, approaching four of marriage behind you, didn’t need any words.

And speak of the devil, here he was.

You didn’t look up, didn’t have to to know it was him. You recognized the pace of his shoes against his stride and the faint sound of the briefcase buckles.

“Morning” you heard him greet the team as he walked in, his steps going louder as he approached your side of the table.

He placed his files on the table and within the next moment, your third cup of coffee was taken out of your hand and set aside.

“(Y/N)” he greeted, his voice low.

You finally tilted your head up to glance up at him and there it was, the hardness of his eyes, the slight furrow of his brow, the look.

It didn’t linger long before Aaron sat down, letting Penelope present the case.

Female abductor. Sexual sadist. Serial Murderer.

You wondered if seeing these things on file will ever get easier. You felt your stomach coil at the sight of the women, their faces lifeless and eyes forever frozen with terror. Big holes in the palms of their hands and in each of their feet like they were….

“Crucified?” Emily offered.

Spencer shook his head.

“No, the angle of the wounds doesn’t align with those of a crucification” he turned the file to the side a bit, his eyes scanning over the pictures. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning.

“They were hung” he finally said.

“Like from hooks? Like the ones at a butchers?” You asked, lifting your head up from the file.

Another shake of his head.

“No…pinned, like to a wall” Spencer straightened up, his brows raising like they always did before he dumped a bunch of information. “The evidence of torture is consistent with his anger and hatred for the women as well as the assault, however also consistent is his sexual sadism. After he’s done with them he’ll hang them up like trophies, just like hunters”

Yeah. It’ll never get easier.

“Alright, Garcia run through all the records of hunting rifles purchased within the area and cross that with mental health assessments” Aaron said.

“Right away sir”

“Before we leave-“ his voice stopped everyone in their tracks. “-Agent Carter, former associate director of the Criminal Investigations Unit, will be assisting us with the case today. He will be meeting us at the airport”

“Shouldn’t he be here with us?” Derek asked “This is a critical case, we should make sure he’s familiar with it”

“He’s good at what he does. You guys will need to trust him. Wheels up in an hour. Agent (L/N), a minute”

You lingered behind as you watched the rest of the team file out before letting out a breath.

“I told you Aaron, it’s fine” you said once the door closed.

“I’m having a hard time believing you”

He sat against the table, his arms crossing across his chest, his head tilting a bit so he could see your face better.

“What’s going on? Don’t lie to me”

His voice softened, taking on that gentle tone he always used with you, knowing it made you weak.

You sighed, your eyes dropping down to your fingers which were absentmindedly tracing over the table.

“I want to do better…be better” you said quietly. You saw him shift in your peripheral as he realized what this is about.

“You did what you thought was right”

“What I thought was right ended with a girl dead Aaron” you bit back.

It had been a slip in the case, the unsub was smarter than the team initially thought. In a spontaneous decision, you went in alone, only a gun on you to protect you.

For a moment, things were looking up despite the grim circumstances. You found the girl, got her untied, and started guiding her back to the exit with no altercation. That should’ve been your first warning. It was too easy. And then just as you were about to leave, he appeared out from behind a wall, a different girl in his arms, a gun pressed to her head.

What was going to be the biggest hit of your career quickly turned into a gamble. One life for another.

You hadn’t prepared to have to talk him down and you weren’t yet experienced enough to do it on a whim. So you took the shot.

But he must’ve seen it in your eyes because the girl would go down with him.

It had weighed on you heavily, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the team.

Aaron especially.

He normally hovered over you- always having you somewhere in his line of sight, trailing behind you where he could whether that was interrogations or to areas of interest, and when he couldn’t he’d make sure he knew where you were-but that protectiveness was just a byproduct of your marriage.

But after this incident he was just…everywhere all the time.

He wasn’t subtle about having you in his sight anymore and you could see him practically everywhere you turned…hovering. You weren’t allowed anywhere alone let alone barely even be alone.

He assured you that your slip up didn’t change your standing as an agent with him, but it seemed like everytime the team was called to go out on the field, he’d find some excuse to keep you on the sidelines.

“I just feel like you don’t trust me anymore” you said, looking back up at him.

He glanced away for a moment before letting out a breath.

“I’m taking the necessary precautions”

You watched as he stood back up to his feet, straightening his blazer out.

“I’ll see you in a bit”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Agent Carter was a short man with an even shorter patience.

He greets Aaron and Rossi with a firm handshake but barely regards the rest of you, save for a brief nod.

Now you’re in a sort of awkward corner with Aaron sitting next to you while Rossi and Carter sit across from you.

“She must be a talented one for you to choose her for the case” Carter said, nodding towards you.

You turned your gaze away from the window at his words, your brow furrowing a bit at the implications behind them.

“She’s a special agent not an intern” Aaron said curtly, not looking up from his file.

The agent seemed surprised at this, his brows quirking. “No kidding. How old even is she?”

This time, Aaron’s eyes flickered up at the agent, a hint on irritation passing through them.

“How about you ask her?”

“Twenty four” you said before the agent could open his mouth.

“That’s young”

“Does that matter?”

“I don’t know. Are you good?”

“Substantially”

Agent Carter nodded silently, his eyes raking over you for a brief moment.

“I hope you are right”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your lips were cracking even before you got out of the airport.

Oro Valley Arizona, in the middle of May.

Just your luck to be stationed outside of the city in the big open desert, with no proper ac unit as far as the eye can see.

You squinted, your sunglasses not helping much with the sun that was beating down on you as you looked over the scene.

“And you searched this entire area?” You asked, looking up from where the latest body was found, now covered by a white sheet.

The sheriff nodded.

“Yes ma’am. Expanded our sweep to two miles in every direction. Found nothin’ helpful, not even shoe prints. This killer is stealthy”

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yes he is”

You stepped back up to the main road where the team had set up under a white tent.

“What you got sunshine?” Derek asked as you joined them under the shade. You sighed. “Stealthy but predictable. You?”

Derek shook his head, looking over the scene photos again. “Same. No evidence. It’s like she just appeared here”

You frowned as you saw officers begin to head back into their cars. “What’s this about?”

“I told them to sweep the scene again, identify what car the guy used from any tracks left behind in the sand” Agent Carter said, not looking up from his files.

“The sheriff told me they checked, not even in just the surrounding area but two miles out, no tire tracks in the sand were found” you said. “There’s reason to believe he drove here but carried her to the dump spot on foot”

“Do I look like a damn idiot to you?” The agent suddenly asked. You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone.

“Sorry?”

Agent Carter sighed heavily, closing the file in his hand.

“Look kid, I get that you’re all young and excited to be involved in this case and stuff, but just let the professionals with more experience do their jobs alright?”

Any irritation you already suppressed from his earlier attitude came bubbling back in your chest and you felt heat rise into your cheeks.

“I think it is within everyone’s best interests not to waste our time chasing leads we don’t have” You bit back.

He let out a bitter laugh, his files dropping harshly onto the table in front of him as he turned towards you.

“Yeah you’d know a lot about best interests huh? Like how your best interest got that girl killed?”

That was a low blow.

You should’ve seen it coming, but it truly caught you by surprise and you visibly froze up.

Behind you, you heard Derek get up from his seat. “Watch it man”

The agent let out a scoff, his eyes flickering between you two. “I think you’re best sitting this one out agent” he muttered to you, turning back to his files.

You swallowed thickly, feeling as though all the moisture has been sucked out of your throat. Derek went to place a hand on your shoulder but you were already storming off, pushing past Aaron who was just walking up to join you guys.

“(Y/N)?” He called after you but you ignored him, the corners of your vision already blurring with tears as you made your way to the car.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

You watched the distant figures of your team working beneath the tents, some getting into cars and coming back while others walked about the area.

Aaron had glanced over in your direction a few times but you just turned away, plagued with a deep sense of shame.

You told him you were going to be fine.

This was going to be the case that proved to him that you could handle it. And yet here you were, sitting in time out like a child.

You imagine Derek had filled him in on a word or two hence why he hadn’t attempted to come over to you yet.

It was only when the evening had fallen were you waking up with him getting into the car. You lifted your head from where it was leaning against the window, wincing a bit at the soreness in your neck.

He didn’t say anything for a good moment, simply quietly starting the car before pulling out onto the main road.

You drove in silence until the scene disappeared into the darkness of the Arizona desert and then he spoke.

“I’ve heard what happened” he said, his voice soft.

You don’t respond.

“Are you alright?” He asks

You swallow again, your eyes fixing on the road ahead of you.

“Maybe he’s right Aaron, maybe I shouldn’t…I can’t…”

“Hey, stop that, we talked about this (Y/N)”

You let out a breath that sounded like a scoff.

“Did we?”

You saw him straighten up from the corner of your eye at your retort.

He sighed heavily, a sign he was getting worked up and he was keeping himself in check.

“(Y/N)” he repeated, his voice firmer. “I told you I am taking-“

“-the necessary precautions, honestly Aaron just give me a break” you said with an exasperated breath, your body slumping into your seat as your arms crossed over your chest, your head turning to the window. “I just want to go to the hotel” you murmured, your voice quiet and laced with defeat.

You felt Aaron look at you, practically could feel the way his brows furrowed before he returned his attention to the road.

Three hours later, after a quick dinner and much needed warm shower, the two of you were tucked into bed. Aaron, exhausted by the heat and from following sheriffs practically back and forth all day from the same three places, was already dozed off beside you, his breath leaving him in soft snores.

You were wide awake, turned onto your side as you watched him in the quiet darkness of the room, your eyes following the way the street lamp light traced along his features. You liked watching him in moments like these, away from the demand of work and where you can see him as the soft Aaron only get to see at home.

You sighed, slowly turning back onto your back before pushing yourself up, quietly slipping out of the bed. You turned back, making sure Aaron was still asleep and once you were satisfied, you reached for your sweater, pulling it over your head as you silently left the room.

You didn’t know where you were going, just wandering aimlessly through the brightly lit hallway.

Eventually, you stop at a small sitting area, sinking down into one of the brown leather armchairs, leaning back against it and allowing your eyes to close.

“Long night?”

The voice startles you and your head snaps up, your eyes fixing on the figure standing in front of you.

Agent Carter in all his glory, still dressed in his suit, stood a few paces away from you, a somewhat unreadable expression on his face.

“You can say that”

You say back.

Agent Carter sighs.

“Look” he says, circling the chair across from you and sitting down. “I know we got off on a bad start”

“Bad might be an understatement” you muttered.

“Right just…” he sighs again. “Listen as unbelievable as this sounds…I see myself a lot in you kid” he said.

You watch as his hands clasp together his thumbs tapping against each other. Your eyes flicker back up to his face, trying to decipher where he was going with this.

“I want to give you the opportunity of a lifetime that’ll elevate your career as an agent to standards that rival Hotchner and Rossi”

Against your better judgment, your curiosity peaked. “Go on”

A small grin graced his lips.

“We can have this unsub in handcuffs before anyone wakes up in the morning. Oh just imagine their faces, his face when he sees what you’ve managed. How does that sound?”

Good.

Really good in fact.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Maybe there’s a point to that tight, coiling feeling in your gut when you’re putting your life on the line.

You force yourself to breathe, to keep your head up and your arms relaxed at your sides as you walked through the quiet streets, your path only illuminated by the yellow streetlamps.

Your heels clicked steadily against the pavement, the hem of your short dress brushing against the skin of your thighs with each step.

This was risky. Dangerous. Stupid above all.

You were vaguely aware of the black car trailing behind you in the shadows, you could feel the watchful eyes of the sheriff and agent Carter on you, offering a minimal semblance of security as you baited yourself out.

Baited was put lightly.

You were handing yourself over to this killer on a silver platter and an apple in your mouth.

You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing your mind to focus, to relax. If you’re too tense, he won’t come.

A gust of wind breezed past you and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, goosebumps sweeping across your skin.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be out here in the cold”

A car, a older Mercedes Benz, pulled up to a stop next to you. Your eyes fixed upon his face behind the wheel, barely visible in the shitty streetlight above you.

Younger, a lot younger than you’ve anticipated.

Anywhere from brown to sandy brown hair and if you squinted, you could make out the green of his eyes.

You stopped in your stride, making a purpose to exaggerate the swing of your hips as you turned to him, arching your back as you leaned against the car, ducking your head to see him better.

“What would you know what a pretty girl like me should and shouldn’t do?” You asked, a sweet, flirtatious smile on your lips.

He chuckled lowly, leaning towards you a bit.

“How about you get in this car and I’ll show you pretty girl”

Your eyes subtly darted around, anticipating for the black car to come out of the shadows to make the arrest, but it never did.

You bit your lip, a deep coil of dread tightening in your stomach at the realization of what you had to do. A thick swallow and strained smile later, you were buckling yourself into the passenger seat as the car steadily pulled off the curb, your gaze just barely catching the sight of the black car emerging and turning away in the direction opposite of you.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your eyes fluttered open, your vision darkened and blurred, an insistent high pitched ringing in your ears making it hard to focus on anything else.

A sharp pain pulsed at the back of your head, making you squint against the light steadily beaming over you in the otherwise dim room.

“There’s my pretty girl”

A rough hand gently caressed your hair and a cold plunge went down your spine as the guy came into view.

He stopped in front of you, leaning down with his hands pressing against your forearms and you could smell the acrid sweet smoke that lingered from his cigarettes.

He tilted his head, his face morphing into a sickly mocking expression.

“Aww dont be like that. You’re the most beautiful piece I’ll have in my gallery”

You didn’t want to show weakness, give him the satisfaction of your fear, but the reality that this really might be it, that you’ll become another victim to your case, was starting to set in.

He let go off your hair and your head dropped.

You heard him straighten up and saw him step away to a nearby table, coming back with a small blade that glinted as it appeared in your line of vision.

You closed your eyes again as you felt the cool metal slide beneath the ropes binding your wrists.

You tried to imagine it was him.

Aaron.

Tried to imagine he was kneeling in front of you, one of those gentle chuckles that you loved so much rumbling in his chest as he worked to get the satin rope off your wrists.

“How’d you even manage to do this sweetheart?”

He’d asked, shaking his head in amusement. You could’ve only blushed and looked away, a shy smile on your lips. It was his birthday and you had wanted to surprise him when he got home from work that night, except you got yourself tangled trying to wrap yourself up for him and ended up stuck on your bed for him to discover.

Your wrists would be freed and he’d help you up to your feet. “Don’t be shy, angel” he murmured against your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and then to the corner of your mouth. You could smell his cologne, diluted by the smell of paper and coffee from the office, his aftershave against his skin, wood…

Blood

Your eyes opened again as your head was yanked back by your hair, landing upon a canvas of wood.

“You’ll look so pretty up there. Prettier than any painting ever painted”

Your stomach turned as you looked upon it, the blood that had saturated into the wood, lighter in areas where the bodies were pressed against it, the splintering where the women had struggled in their last moments.

“Stay still. You don’t want this to hurt more than it has too”

A click of a gun.

“Let her go”

Aaron’s voice startled you more than the situation you were in.

You were promptly yanked around and the blade of a knife was pressed right against your throat as you were pulled back against the guy behind you.

There you could see him, standing off just where the light could reach, his gun drawn and angled steadily in front of him. His hair was soft and beneath his vest, you could make out the familiar white shirt that he slept in that night.

Maybe you were imagining things.

Maybe you were already hanging from the canvas in that foreboding room, your neurons firing the last image of him in their dying moments.

“There you are agent, just in time for the show”

“There will be no show”

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong”

You felt the knife press harder into your skin, breaking it ever so slightly. Aaron’s eyes met yours for a moment.

Leave.

Don’t watch me die.

And then, he lowered his gun.

You watched as he placed it down on the table beside him, the sound emitting around the room.

You saw his palms raising in the light, a white flag amongst the battle.

Your body slumped a bit with relief.

This didn’t have to turn worse than it already was.

You opened your eyes again to him only to see he wasn’t looking at you.

His eyes were fixed on something behind you.

In fragments of a second, the weight of the body behind you was sliding down and crumpling to the floor, the blade of the knife falling from your throat and clattering to the ground at your feet.

You hadn’t even processed the sound of a gun going off until Aaron was in front of you, his strong arms enveloping you as your knees buckled.

“There you go, I’ve got you. It’s ok, you’re ok” he murmured, his lips brushing against your head.

The tape was pulled from your lips and you let out a weak breath, your throat seeming to burn from the thick air.

“Aaron” you exhaled against him, your hands shakily wrapped around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair, holding him, feeling him.

“Aaron I’m sorry I just wanted to-“ you babbled, the damns breaking as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Shh we’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you out of here”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

An ambulance was already outside waiting for you on the side of the road.

The air was frigid and the surrounding area was dark, miles of empty desert spanning in every direction around you.

You sat quietly on the back edge of the vehicle, wrapped in Aaron’s jacket as the paramedics treated the wounds around your wrists and Aaron sat next to you, holding an ice pack to your head.

The rest of the team lingered around you, keeping enough distance for you and Aaron to have some space.

“Hey Morgan, take over for a minute” you heard Aaron say as he stood. You lifted your head up at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“I’ll be right back sweetheart” he said, pressing a kiss to your head as Derek took his place next to you.

You watched Aaron walk up to the car that had pulled up a few paces ahead. “Who’s that?” You asked.

“A man who’s place I would not want to be in right now” Derek answered.

The car door opened and out stepped Agent Carter. You saw his mouth barely open before Aaron was on him.

“Who gave you the order?” Aaron demanded, his hands grasping at the lapels of the other man’s blazer and pushing him back against the car.

Agent Carter swallowed before he spoke.

“I assure you we made the plan with as much caution-“

Aaron cut him off, his grip tightening around the fabric.

“Caution? My agent gets swept up in five seconds right under your nose? Was that part of the ‘cautiously arranged’ plan?”

“My plan-” agent Carter said, pushing Aaron off him”-led us to him didn’t it?”

There was a heavy moment of silence and you could see Aaron’s jaw clench before he spoke again.

“You had no authority to carry out this plan without my knowledge. You evaded my authority as unit chief and jeopardized the safety and life of one of my agents”

Agent Carter sighed. “It won’t happen again alright?”

“It won’t because you are no longer an agent” Aaron said. “The attorney general will be informed of your actions and you will be placed under investigation for obstruction of justice and the deliberate endangerment to safety of a federal agent” he held out his hand, an expectant look in his eyes.

You saw the other man’s eyes flicker down to his hand and then back up to his face, hesitating, hoping Aaron would let down. But he didn’t. Aaron kept his stance firm and eventually, with a sigh, Jamie Carter handed over his badge and gun.

“Strauss will be waiting for you when we land back in Quantico” Aaron said. He gave a brief nod to JJ and Rossi who escorted Carter to one of the nearby federal cars.

Aaron walked back to you, glancing down at the badge in his hand for a moment before tucking it away into his pocket. He smiled lightly as he approached, thanking Derek as he retook his place beside you.

You sighed, looking up at him. “I’m sorry again for everything Aaron” you said quietly. “I should’ve discussed the plan with you beforehand”

He hummed and then was silent for a moment.

“When we get back, Penelope will have your new badge. I just got the confirmation that it was validated”

You frown in confusion as you watch him stand once again. “New badge?”

Aaron smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Well, i think it’d be impractical for an SSA to walk around with a regular special agent badge, don’t you think?”

GIF from Pinterest

Headers from @cafekitsune

[short-honey-badger]

Hello!

This is the first time ever that I ask for a writing to a headcanon and it’s exciting. :) I have been eating up your Shamrock/Shanks writings, love them!

There is this idea living in my head that the female reader

a) falls very ill

b) gets poisoned by rivals of the Figarland family

And is then discovered by Shamrock who comes looking for us, wondering why we don’t react to him calling our name.

In both scenarios mentioned, the reader is then lying in bed and very weak, suffering and slipping in and out of consciousness.

Meanwhile, Shamrock deals with guilt, fear and shock about this even happening right under his nose

Shanks of course would be there too, angry with his brother for not looking out enough for Reader

I know this is very angsty (think about that scene from Gone with the Wind where Scarlett fell down the stairs and was ill) and I am not sure if you said anywhere that this isn’t something you would like to write about.

Still, I would love to see what you make of this little snippet. :) Your Shamrock characterization is great 👍

Okay anon. This was probably one of my favorite ones I've done so far so thank you dearly for the wonderful prompt. I hope I have done it justice! ❤️❤️

Watch me Wither

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader x Figarland Shamrock

Warnings! Not many? Angsty sick fic

Shamrock Masterlist-> HERE

Shamrock stands vigil over your still form, lips set in a harsh frown. It's been three days, and still your condition has yet to improve. Guilt eats at him, knowing that if he had listened to his brother for once that this wouldn't have happened. That you, their most precious person, would not be lying here still as a corpse. How could he let this happen when he had sworn to you that you would be safe here with him?

When you don't come to his office to share lunch with the leader of the Holy Knights, Shamrock knows that there is something going on. He stands from his desk and leaves his office, booted feet slapping against the stone of his home as he navigates the halls to the room he had set you up in a month ago.

Shanks had argued against you staying in Marie Geoise with Shamrock, seemingly convinced that you would be happier, safer with him and his crew. Shamrock had scoffed and rolled his eyes at his younger twin, lips pursed and arms crossed.

“She will be perfectly fine here with me, safe where no bloody pirates can steal her away when you aren't paying attention.”

Shanks had rolled his eyes but backed down, face set in a scowl as he turned on his heel to go tell you goodbye.

Shamrock knocks on your door, knowing that you value your privacy, but when you didn't answer after several moments, the holy knight turned the handle and strode inside. He stalks forward, scowl on his face as he comes to a stop beside your bed. He can see the lump you make under the blankets and calls your name, but still, there is no response from you. He rolls his eyes and reaches out, pulling the quilt down and freezing when he sees the yellow pallor of your face, your hair weighed down by sweat.

His heart siezed in his chest, eyes going wide as he reached out, on ehand wrapping around your shoulder and shaking you gently, “Darling, my love, please, wake up.”

A wretched groan left your mouth, eyes cracking open just enough that he could see the way your pupils had shrunk, tiny pinpoints surrounded by the dull color of your iris and bloodshot white sclera.

He had jumped into action when you fell back into unconsciousness seconds later, eyes drooping and body going lax in his hold. Shamrock had scooped you up and ran like he had never before, heedless of puting up a front in front of the servants and other members of his household until he made it to the room that their personal healer stayed. He’d woken Jurgan, demanding that the old man examine you, and what he found had made dreaded guilt well up inside the holy knight.

Someone, either an enemy of the Figarland household or one of their enemies, had poisoned you.

Now Shamrock could do nothing but regret his choice in keeping you here. He had called Shanks on the second day that you were admitted into the medical ward, and had sat still and silent as his twin lay into him, furious at Shamrock for allowing this to happen right under his nose. He deserved the dressing down, and it only added to his guilt and fear that because of him, they would never see that shy little grin that was only meant for them, ever again.

Shanks had told him that he would be back as quickly as he could, wanting to be there for his twin and for you if you ever happened to wake for longer periods of time. Shamrock had just quietly agreed, not feeling the need to argue against his younger brother, not when you were in such a delicate position.

You would wake long enough each day that Shamrock for drip water into your mouth, his eyes intent as he watched you slowly consume the liquid before you would drop back off, still too weak to do much but slowly recover. Jurgan had purged your system with a concoction of drugs, but even then, the doctor had informed him that it may not be enough for you to pull through. Only time would tell.

Shamrock didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t make it. You had become an extension of his life, a need that he would happily let consume him if only to receive your soft hands and sweet attitude that you rewarded him and Shanks with. Raging guilt eats at him, knowing that he failed you, that the promise he had made you and Shanks has been broken by being too prideful, too sure in the knowledge that you would be safe in his home.

A low groan gains his attention, and Shamrock cuts his eyes down at you, loping forward to grasp your hand in his own when he sees your hand twitch in his direction. You grip his fingers weakly, and the holy knight kneels by your side, burgundy eyes soft as he reaches out with his other hand to gently card his fingers through your hair. You look pitiful, but it gives him hope that you are beginning to feel better when you crack your eyes open to meet his own.

“Sham?”

Your voice is scratchy with disuse, but Shamrock is just happy to hear your voice. He squeezes your fingers, the hand in your hair smoothing down to cup your cheek, “I’m here, darling.”

Shamrock doesn’t know what to do or how he could make you feel better other than just by being at your side. His father had huffed and sneered, telling his older son that he needed to get over this, and get back to his duties, but the redhead found that he was always pulled back to your side, unable to be away from you for too long.

“Red?” You rasp quietly and frown when Shamrock shakes his head.

“Shanks is on his way, my love,” he murmurs, and the knowledge that the other twin was on the way seems to settle you, face smoothing out into something peaceful. He watches you for a while longer until your hand goes slack and you seem to slip back to sleep. Shamrock sighs and carefully disentangles his hand from yours and stands. He knows that you are unlikely to wake again in the next couple of hours, so as much as it pains him to leave your side, Shamrock does. He must before his father comes to collect him.

The next several days passed the same way, Shamrock would come and stay by your side, the guilt inside him eating away at him as he stared at your pale form resting under warm blankets. He would hold your hand, a silent sentinel. He seethed and raged inside his mind, furious that he was no closer to finding out the culprit behind your poisoning. He watched you wither further every day, and it killed him on the inside little by little.

Shanks arrived on the seventh day, running through the halls of a home he held no fond memories of. He ignored the sneers that were directed at him, not caring that the household thought of him as lesser just because he refused to bow to their whims. He found his twin sitting beside you in the medical ward, the other redhead looking worse than Shanks has ever seen his older brother.

“How is she?” He asks as he shuts the door behind him. He comes and stands at his twin's side, eyes wide as he stares down at you. He wanted to touch, to feel you, to make sure that you were still holding on, but he was terrified of making your condition worse.

“Better,” Shamrock murmured, voice rough from disuse. He watched his younger brother, seeing the look of fear etched on the face that looked so much like his own, and felt that same remorse well up. He drops his eyes quickly, averting them back to where you lay, “Jurgan says that she will recover, but the poison did a number on her internal organs. She will never be as strong as she once was.”

Shanks grits his teeth, his anger at his brother coming back with a vengeance. He doesn't bother looking at the other man, but his voice is tense and full of displeasure, “I told you that she wouldn't be safe here. You should have known better than to keep the one weakness you have so close. Her staying here was doomed from the start, Sham.”

Shamrock grits his teeth, shoulders hunching. He knows that Shanks is right, having already berated himself mentally more than his brother ever could.

“So you've already said last time we spoke,” He murmurs, and thankfully, Shanks doesn't say anything else about his failings. The two sit in silence, both content to watch your chest move up and down in your sleep. It isn't until there is a catch in your breath that they snap to attention.

Your brow furrows, and soft sound leaves you. You shift on the bed, arm snaking out from under the blankets, and Shanks stands, beating his brother to grasp your hand in his own. Your eyes crack open a moment later, blurry but more focused now than you seem to have been in days. You turn your head, lips pulling up in a tiny smile when you see both of your boys sitting beside you. You squeeze the hand you hold, voice scratching and throat sore.

“Shanks, you're here.”

The redhead smiles sadly, squeezing your hand back tightly, “Yeah, baby. I'm right here. How are you feeling?”

You shift with a wince to lay on your side, sliding your other hand out and reaching for the older twin. Shamrock easily slides his hand into yours, eyes soft as he stares at you.

“Better now that you're both here,” you say quietly and give them both a meager smile. You can tell, even in your pained and muddled state, that there is more than the usual tension between the two brothers. You sigh softly and squeeze Shanks’ hand again to gain his attention.

“Don't be mad, Red. This is my own fault. I should have been more careful.”

Both men widen their eyes, confused and about to argue that they are the ones who are supposed to take care of you, but you plow on before they can get a word out, “You can't be by my side every waking hour, loves. I knew this place would be dangerous even when I agreed to stay here. I got too comfortable, and that cost me.”

“But-”

You cut the holy knight off, “But nothing, Sham. You have duties, and Shanks, you have a crew to take care of. I don't want the two of you beating yourselves up or each other up.”

They watch you swallow harshly, lips moving into a weary smile full of sadness both men dearly wished they could wipe away.

“I heard what you said, Shamrock, and if it's as bad as you say it is, then I'm going to need you. Both of you.”

Shanks nods immediately, crouching down so that he can be at eye level with you. He leans forward, lips kissing your brow before he pulls back to give you a smile, “We'll be here, baby.”

Shamrock clutches your hand, still feeling that raging guilt that threatens to suffocate him, but he shoves it down for now. You were right. They would need to be there. He leans in and kisses your knuckles where they wrap around his hand, voice a soft promise, “Always, my love. We have you.”

You give them both a small smile, exhaustion suddenly eating away at you, and you squeeze their hands again, grip going slack as moments later, “I know.”

You are asleep seconds later, but neither man has any plans of going anywhere, not when you would need them when you woke up next. You had a long road of recovery ahead, but you would get there with them at your side.

@mit-suri @mfreedomstuff @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin

[fclsebnnyodair]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . finnick odair and his unwavering love for seeing his gorgeous girl in a sundress.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader.

summary: you are heading out to the market when your husband can’t help but stop you in your tracks just to shower you with compliments as he sees you in a pretty sundress.

warnings: another fluffy one. finnick being finnick (gentle, loving and overly sweet).

a/n: guys, im a mush. i love fluffy fics. i think finnick adores whenever you wear a sundress, but not in the weird way other guys do, yk? like this is finnick odair.

it was a warm summer day in district 4, the kind that made the sea glisten like glass and filled the air with the scent of salt and sun. finnick lounged on the porch of the small cottage you and him shared, a fishing net tangled around his fingers as he half-heartedly mended it. the task was menial, his mind wandering to his favorite distraction —you.

he heard the creak of the door behind him and the soft shuffle of your bare feet across the wooden floor. "sweetheart," he called without looking up, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "what are you up to?"

"I was thinking of heading to the market," you replied softly, your voice carrying that quiet tenderness that always made his heart stutter. 

he turned his head to glance at you and froze.

you were standing in the doorway, sunlight pouring in behind you like a halo. you wore a simple sundress, a pale yellow that made your hair and eyes shine. 

the fabric flowed over you like water, clinging in all the right places and swaying around your knees. you looked like you’d been plucked from a daydream, and finnick was utterly helpless against the sight.

he dropped the net, forgetting it entirely as he stood. "sweetheart," he breathed, his voice thick with awe. "pretty girl... you're gonna kill me."

your cheeks flushed a soft pink, and you fidgeted with the hem of the dress, your usual confidence retreating under his intense gaze. "It's just a dress, finnick," you said shyly, your lips curling into a small, nervous smile.

"just a dress?" he crossed the room in a few long strides, his sea-green eyes locked onto yours. "no, no, no. sundresses aren't just dresses when it's you wearing them." 

he stopped in front of you, towering over your frame, his hands immediately finding your hips. his fingers kneaded the soft flesh there, holding you as if to keep you from slipping away or keeping himself from falling forward.

"you look like the ocean in the middle of summer," he murmured, his voice low and reverent. "warm, bright, and completely irresistible."

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "you're ridiculous."

"and you're stunning," he shot back within a second. his lips were on yours before you could protest further, a slow and deep kiss that made your knees buckle. he held you close, his hands firm and sure, anchoring you to him as he poured every ounce of his admiration into the kiss.

when you broke apart, your cheeks were flushed, your coy smile back in place. finnick took advantage of the moment, peppering your face with kisses, starting at your forehead and working his way down to your jaw.

"my love," he murmured between each kiss. "my pretty girl. you don't know what you do to me."

your laughter bubbled up, light, and you swatted at his chest. "finnick, stop! you're going to make me late for the market."

"let them wait," he replied, grinning as he pulled you closer. "this dress deserves my full attention." 

he lifted you off the ground, spinning you once as you laughed and clung to his shoulders.

you buried your face in his neck, the heat of your breath sending shivers down his spine. "hopeless," you mumbled, but the affection in your tone betrayed your word.

"hopelessly in love with you," he corrected, setting you back on your feet. he cupped your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over your flushed cheeks. "and hopelessly weak for this sundress. you should wear it every day."

"I'll think about it," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

his grin widened. "you better, sweetheart. because every time you wear it, I'm going to remind you how much I adore you." 

he leaned in, kissing you once more, long and lingering, as if the world beyond your little cottage didn't exist, —and maybe it didn’t for him the moment he got his hands on you.

finnick couldn't tear himself away from you.

he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips. your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. It was wild, rapid, and entirely because of you.

"you make me sound like some goddess in this dress," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"you are, sweetheart," finnick murmured, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your hips. "you don't see it, do you? how everything about you makes my world stop. the way the light catches your hair, how your smile -shy or not- makes me forget my own name. and this dress?" he let out a low whistle, his grin turning boyish. "It's like it was sewn just for you. they must've had my pretty girl in mind."

your cheeks flushed again, but there was a flicker of something else in your eyes now, —something playful. "you're laying it on thick, odair," you said, your lips curving into a small smirk.

he feigned a gasp, his hand dramatically clutching his chest. "me? thick? honey, I'm just speaking the truth. besides..." he leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "you can’t really put the blame on me when you look like that?"

you laughed, the sound warm and bright. you tilted your head, studying him with mock seriousness. "you really do have a weakness for sundresses, don't you?"

"only when you're in them," he admitted shamelessly, his grin so wide it made his dimples deepen.

you shook your head, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you over and over again. "fine, I'll wear more of them," you teased. "but only if you promise not to make such a big deal every time."

"not a chance," finnick said immediately, his hands sliding around to the small of your back. "making a big deal about you is my favorite hobby. especially when you're standing here, looking like this."

your soft laughter bubbled up again, and you rested your head against his chest, your body molding perfectly to his. finnick wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as the two of you swayed gently in the warmth of the day.

"do you remember the first time you wore a sundress around me?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

you hummed, your fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt. "I do. It was the one with the little daisies, wasn't it? the one l borrowed from mags because all my clothes were too plain for the harvest festival?"

"that's the one," he said, his lips brushing against your temple. "you walked into that festival, and I swear the whole world stopped. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

"you tripped over a table trying to get to me," you pointed out, your voice laced with amusement.

he chuckled, shaking his head. "worth it. I'd trip over a hundred tables for you, sweetheart."

you tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes soft and full of affection. "you're such a fool," you murmured, but you leaned up to kiss him anyway, your hands tangling in his golden locks.

"a fool for my pretty girl," finnick whispered against your lips.

the kiss deepened, slow and tender, your world narrowing until it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other. the sea breeze flowed around you, carrying the sound of gulls and the faint crash of waves, but finnick barely noticed.

he was too busy memorizing every little detail-how the sundress felt beneath his hands, how your lips curved into a smile mid-kiss, how your laugh seemed to echo in his chest.

eventually, you pulled back, your face flushed and your breathing uneven. "I’m really going to be late for the market," you said, though your tone was reluctant.

he smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "they can wait. besides, I think the market's seen enough of you for one week."

you raised an eyebrow. "oh? and what are we supposed to do instead?"

his grin turned mischievous, and he swept you up into his arms effortlessly, ignoring your surprised squeal. "stay right here. just us. I can't think of anything better, can you?"

you laughed, your arms looping around his neck as he carried you inside. "my god, you're impossible, finn."

"Impossible to resist, you mean," he teased, kissing the tip of your nose as he set you down gently on the couch.

as you settled together, the sundress bunched around your knees and your laughter filled the room. and as far as he was concerned, the world outside your little bubble could wait forever.

[aventurineswife]

I was just playing HSR with background music on and it occurred to me...

What if SAHSR can hear the music you play?

I literally listen to everything

Phonk, romance, sad, early 2000's, kpop, etc

One minute it's a sweet and slow romance song, then it switches dramatically to some hardcore phonk and the characters reaction vary

(FIGHTING ENEMIES WITH PHONK GOES HARD🔥🔥🗣️)

Oh man, the amount of ideas I'm getting on what each character's favourite modern artist would be

(I believe in Boothill loving Lady Gaga)

I am FORCING the entirety HSR to listen to Lana Del Rey — 🤡 anon

Oh, this is chaos incarnate.

Imagine the self-aware HSR cast constantly subjected to your music choices—whether they like it or not. One second, it's a gentle, heartwarming ballad. The next? Hard bass phonk blasting through their souls.

Aventurine loves the unpredictability. One moment he's strutting to smooth jazz, the next he's cackling at death metal.

Sunday is eating this up. "Ah, what impeccable taste! Such grandeur! Such emotion!"

Dramatically sways to Lana Del Rey, then viciously air-guitars to a rock solo.

Jing Yuan enjoys soft, orchestral music. He can nap peacefully to it.

But suddenly? Hardcore phonk drops mid-slumber.

Jing Yuan, groggy, "…Is this punishment?"

Luocha is eerily unphased. He adapts to all genres seamlessly.

But secretly? He resonates with gothic, haunting music. Plays it off as coincidence.

Blade + sad romance music? Oh. Oh, he’s going through it. 😔💔

"Another song of lost love? Must you remind me, every waking moment?"

Dan Heng finds some of the lyrical poetry beautiful. But if it suddenly switches from melancholy to phonk mid-battle?

"This… is a contrast."

Welt respects classical music. Then you subject him to hyperpop.

"What... exactly is the appeal of this?" (But secretly, he likes it.)

Himeko taps her fingers to the beat of anything.

"At least they have variety."

Kafka LOVES how music can set a mood. Will comment on your song choices mid-fight.

"This one… is about betrayal, isn’t it? Is that a message, darling?"

Black Swan quietly memorizes your favorites. Will theorize about your emotions based on your playlist order.

Pfft, Boothill 😭🙏

"WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS POP HIT??" (But he’s bopping to it. Don't let him fool you.)

You force-feed him Lady Gaga. And guess what?

He starts humming ‘Poker Face’ mid-duel. (He's definitely a Chappell Roan fan too, change my mind.)

They now associate certain songs with specific battles.

If they hear a familiar track, they brace themselves. "Ah. This is a boss fight song, isn't it?"

Argenti tries to compose poetry based on the lyrics you play.

March 7th now has a list of ‘Certified Bangers’ from your playlist.

And the worst part? They have no escape. You control the aux. Forever.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

new hayden fan nonnie again, i am ready to officially join the fam (if you’ll have me)! may i be 🐮 anon?

also i have a fic request! would you be open to writing one where nerdy!anakin meeting his favorite book author who happens to be reader? or anakin could be the book author and the reader is the fan? either sounds cute to me, have fun with it!

thank you, bunny!!

- 🐮

PAIRING: writer!nerd!anakin x f!reader/ nerd!anakin x f!writer!reader

Author's note: OFC YOU CAN POOKIE!! and that's such a cute emoji 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ (couldn't help myself and made two scenarios you mentioned)

𝓕𝓛𝓤𝓕𝓕 ❦

You weren’t nervous.

Nope. Not at all.

Just because you were about to meet the ANAKIN SKYWALKER, the actual author of your favorite book series—the one whose words had ruined you, rebuilt you, and left you obsessing over every single character, every emotion described on the paper—did not mean you had to freak out.

Except, you were totally freaking out.

Fingers clutched his book against your chest as if it may shield you from crushing your nerves adrenaline, while you stood in line, shifting on your feet, trying not to think about the fact that in a few minutes, you’d be face-to-face with him.

And then suddenly— way too soon—it was your turn.

You stepped forward, heart pounding. Hands sweating

He looked up.

Oh.

You were not prepared for how pretty he was in real life.

The grainy black-and-white author photo in the book didn’t do him justice—those messy curls framed his face in a way that made your stomach flip, glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, and his sweater sleeves were pushed up, exposing lean forearms dusted with veins running up his body

God really took his time creating him.

He blinked at you, pushing his glasses up with two fingers. “Hi.”

His voice was soft, a little hesitant, like he wasn’t really used to this—like he didn’t know the power, the impact he had.

You swallowed, barely keeping your composure. “H-Hi,” you managed, setting his, well..yours, book down in front of him. “I—um—I love your books. A lot. Like, I might have reread them too many times.”

A soft flush crept up his neck. He ducked his head, scribbling something in the book. “That’s—uh—thank you. That means a lot. Really.”

Your heart clenched. He was adorable.

You leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to know—how did you come up with him?” You tapped the book cover, referring to the broody, tortured love interest that had single-handedly ruined your life. “Because I swear, he haunts my dreams.”

Anakin let out a breathy laugh, looking up at you with this disgustingly-twisting-gut eyes “Uh—he just… appeared, I guess.” He smiled sheepishly. “You’re actually, um, not the first person to say that.”

You grinned. “Well, he’s perfect. And kind of my biggest crush.”

His pen froze mid-signature.

Oh my gosh..what have you done?

He cleared his throat, fumbling slightly as he handed the book back to you. “That’s—uh—good to know.”

You peeked at what he’d written, expecting just a simple signature. But beneath his name, a small note made your breath hitch and your lips to crack in a small, nervous smile:

«To the girl with excellent taste—if you ever want to discuss my characters over coffee, let me know.»

Your head snapped up. He was already looking at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Your stomach flipped.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER had planned this day for weeks. Checked the bookstore’s event schedule at least a dozen times. He had to make sure he was on the right time, the right day, wore the right clothes for this occasion. For weeks he had practiced what he’d say in the mirror, only to stammer like an idiot each time. But now that he was here, standing in line, gripping a hardcover copy of your book so tightly his knuckles were white—he felt like he might pass out.

The line moved too quickly. One second, he was behind a group of fans, and the next—

“Next, please!”

His breath caught in his throat.

Sitting behind the table, a warm, inviting smile on your lips painted your face as you reached for his book. “Hi,” you greeted, voice soft, smooth, the same voice he’d listened to in countless interviews. “What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

God.

You were even prettier in real life.

“I—uh, it’s Anakin,” he managed, adjusting his glasses like it would somehow fix the fact that he was a mess. “I—wow, okay, sorry, I just—uh, I love your books. Like, a lot.”

A soft laugh left you, and his heart nearly stopped, did a flip, hit his insides and went back to its place.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Anakin.” You took the book from his shaking hands and flipped to the title page. Gosh, you said his name in the most sweetest way possible. Was it how heaven felt like? “Do you want me to write anything specific?”

“Uh, um—” He cursed himself for being so awkward, so nervous. He was a grown man for Force’s sake. “I—your characters. The way you write them. It’s like they’re real.” He pushed his glasses up again, desperate to say something intelligent but it made no sense in the sudden conversation. “I feel like I know them. Like they’ve… changed me.”

Your pen stilled. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his.

For a second, he panicked—had he said too much? Sounded too intense? Was it too weird? But then, your expression softened

“That’s probably the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Anakin swore his heart exploded.

You smiled, scribbling something inside his book before sliding it back to him. “I’m really glad my stories meant something to you, Anakin.”

He stared at the book, at your signature, but what was the most important was the small note beneath it:

«To Anakin—thank you for feeling my words the way they were meant to be felt.»

His throat went dry.

Before he could even think, the words slipped out. “Would you—” He swallowed hard. “Would you ever want to talk about writing? Over coffee? Or tea—if you like tea, that’s totally fine, I—”

Your lips twitched. “Are you asking me out?”

His face burned. “I—uh—”

But then you grinned.

Oh.

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Maybe at the end of the day this was a story worth writing, too.

[masterm1111]

27 minutes.

you left the apartment. drove to the restaurant to pick up the takeout order. entered your key into the door and found my husband panting in just a tank top on the bed.

you and nanami have known each other long enough to read each other's mind. if you take a nap after standing in the kitchen for more than two minutes after looking in the fridge or pantry, the smell of freshly cooked chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and green beans is hitting your nose for dinner. when you wash your and his cup before going to bed and see an empty bag of tea leaves in the trash, he's welcomed with three new ones the next day after a long day of work.

so best believe that whenever one of you feel needy, there's a telepathic signal given that the other understands.

as you watched your husband hump your pillow, you mentally hit rewind on your conversation before leaving,

*flashback*

"I'm gonna go get dinner," you said as you walked from the island to the front door. "The usual, right?"

He follows you to close it, "Yeah."

You reach over to grab both sets of car and house keys, only for him to grab your car keys right before you can and raise them above your head.

"Love, I really have to go before the food gets cold. Or what if someone pretends to be me and steals our food?"

A minute passes as he just stares at you with a slight smirk. Then you're hit with a kiss, multiple, starting from your cheek as he pecks to your lips.

"Mmwah," he smiles into the kiss. "Drive safe," as he lowers your keys.

"I'll be back soon."

*end flashback*

i can't have been gone for that long... how long has he been holding that in?

kento is generally a patient man. he's waited in line at your favorite bakery just to get a new flavor of cream puffs. he sat watching you try to solve a Rubik's cube for 45 minutes before you offered and he solved it in 45 seconds. "I had a lot of time in high school," he said.

he can also be a bit impatient. you've scolded him a few times for being too touchy-feely at a fundraising event.

"We're in public, Kento. What if someone was looking?"

He cranes his neck down to your ear, "But you look so fucking good in that dress, you have no. idea," as he bites your ear.

"NANAMINNN!"

both your ears perk up to that one distinct voice.

"hey, gorgeous. looking striking as ever."

"hello, satoru," you smiled. "loud as usual."

"always. nanamin, the bosses want to talk to you about this quarter's progress and your success with the super-rich but super-confidential client you took on."

he nods. "lead the way," and before your husband follows suit, he kisses your cheek and softly grabs your ass, and quietly jogs to catch up with gojo.

*present*

the door is cracked open allowing his grunts and moans to fill your shared space. you had placed the food on the counter and tiptoed to peek at nanami releasing his sexual energy.

"oh yeah, y-you like that? my f-fuc- oh shit- fucking cock against you?" you watched his hips slowly roll up against the pillow, pulling back just to go deeper over and over again.

your mind envisioned the latest time he fucked you, angling his cock just right to reach that spot. kento made sure you came a couple times before releasing his cum in you. on his face, around his fingers, against his cock while rubbing your clit. he's down to try just about anything in the bedroom (really any surface) that ensures he's keeping you satisfied.

"hah, this feels so fucking goooodd." as you watched his hips speed up, you could tell he was close. with your mouth slightly agape, you thought to let him finish and edge him later or ruin his orgasm now as payback for literally fucking up your pillow.

eh, why not both?

"fuck, fuck, f-fuc-"

knock-knock. "you couldn't have waited for me to get home?"

he looks for his shoulder to see you standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, and your legs crossed.

"seems to me, you've been standing there long enough to join in." before you speak, he flips over for you to see his cock twitching with pre-cum sticking to his abs.

"yea well, food's been here for a minute and i want us to watch a movie together so let's go."

you turn around to head to the counter. you grab the takeout containers out of the bag and lay them out when warm arms hug your waist as you feel his hard-on press into you from behind.

"you think we can finish this- *press* later," he whispers into your neck.

you laugh, "what is going on with you today?"

he walks around the island to grab you both napkins, "what? i can't be horny for my extremely beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, loving wife?"

"by the way, you owe me a new pillowcase."

"yes or no?"

you both stare at each other. you roll your eyes and sigh, "fiinnnee. but, i plan for it to be more fun for me than you."

"what other way would i want it?"

you smile. "okay, let's eat first because i'm starving."

"me too." he taps your ass as you both walk to the couch, savoring this moment of peace before riding into a semi-torturous night.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

OKAY- hear me out! i've had this thought of regulus being with a girl who had a personality that kinda resembled glinda from wicked... not sure how many people would like it, but here is a start to the pairing!! pleaseeeee tell me your thoughts or if you'd want to see more with them!

pairing: regulus black x fem!glinda!reader

~*~

Regulus Black had never understood warmth until he met Y/N.

She was all light—bright and untamed, filled with a quiet sort of elegance that never dimmed, no matter the setting. She carried herself like a queen, but she laughed with the kind of ease that made people love her instantly. She charmed effortlessly, whether it was through a knowing smile, a teasing remark, or the way she softened just enough when it was only the two of them.

And somehow, in a world that never quite made sense to him, she chose him.

The boy who had learned too young how to stay silent, how to carry expectations that were never his to begin with. The boy who measured love in quiet gestures rather than grand declarations, who spoke in steady words rather than sweeping poetry. The boy who had always been a Black first, a person second—until Rebekah took his hand and changed everything.

"You know, my darling," she mused one evening, curled up beside him in the common room, "I think you were made just for me."

Regulus chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "You think so, princess?"

"I know so." She stretched, looping her arms around his neck, her voice warm with certainty. "No one else would let me cling to them this much."

Regulus smirked, his arms tightening around her waist. "I don’t let you. I like it."

She beamed, kissing his cheek. "Of course you do. You love me."

His lips twitched. "Tragically."

Y/N giggled, pulling him closer, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair. "My favorite person," she whispered, almost to herself.

Regulus let out a soft breath. "And you’re mine."

And that was how it always was.

Y/N, warm and golden, full of love that she gave freely. Regulus, steady and strong, held onto her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

He never needed grand gestures, never needed to declare what was already obvious. The way he tucked her closer when she leaned against him, the way he let her feed him at the table when she decided he wasn’t eating enough, the way he always made sure her hands were warm—those things said enough.

He loved her. And she knew.

And in return, she stayed at his side, fingers tangled with his, sunlight against the night sky.

[alyssawritcs]

JUST  LUNCH  (  a  kelvin  harrison  jr.  fanfic  ) one  -  shot  .

love   interest   :   kelvin  harrison  jr. rating   :   m  as  shit  .  (  smut  ,  unprotected  sex  (  wrap  it  up  ) ,  plain  ol'  p  in  v  sex  ) wc   :   4.3k author's   note   :  i  have  no  idea  where  this  came  from  y'all,  just  wanted  to  show  love  to  my  little  leo  short  king  🤷🏽‍♀️

As much as Nevaeh sometimes missed her hometown, the beautiful and incomparable New Orleans, she had long since felt right at home in New York City. The move there had been almost on a whim, a decision made after her LSU graduation once the “far fetched” application she’d sent in to her dream gallery in Brooklyn was returned to her inbox with a link for a Zoom interview. Six weeks later, she was settled into a teeny tiny apartment in Bedstuy and working long hours at the gallery she’d grown to call her second home. However, it was while she was out with her newfound friends that she had spotted a familiar face in the crowd. 

Kelvin and her had been good friends in high school, nerdy kids and often the only black ones in the room. They had a love for the arts, though, and often paired off to work on projects. But the shy girl that he’d met in freshman year biology was not the one he’d run into that night at the bar. Now, little Nana had been ... blessed in high school and of course he’d noticed back then, he wasn’t blind but she was always hiding whatever she had going on under uniform, with big ol’ crewnecks or just the polos when the sweltering heat didn’t make sense for the former.

As he’d seen her there that day, head thrown back in laughter, that same pretty smile she’d always had, sitting on that - yeah, he’d have been a fool to not have approached her then and there.

The little reunion had gone better than even he had expected, with the two of them separating from their respective groups to catch up in some corner booth, where they had talked for hours. He told her about the roles he’d gotten and she talked about the exhibits she was helping to curate. Before they had known it, it was closing time and Kelvin, ever the southern gentleman, had offered to walk her home. She had thanked him on her doorstep with a soft kiss to his cheek. 

That had been 2017 and they went to date just until January of 2022. In that time, he’d gotten the roles of his lifetime. She’d been promoted to full time co-head curator at the gallery. Their schedules, which used to align perfectly, weren’t even in the same timezone most days. He needed to move to LA for his career’s sake and she surely wasn’t leaving New York because of hers. Though they had started the process of separating at each other’s throats, knowing exactly what buttons to push that only came with being together for half a decade, they’d both seemed to realize that it couldn’t end like that. So he got a little place in Venice Beach, she took over the lease on their shared loft in Brooklyn, and they amicably went their separate ways. 

Well, after one more incredible night that plagued Nevaeh’s every thought at that moment while she walked to Bredren, their old favorite Jamaican and soul food fusion spot not that far from the gallery. She tried to focus on the cute memories of them there, having little dates after he picked her up from work and he’d trek from his set in Harlem. That was cute, that was fun, that was appropriate. Thinking of the last time they’d slept together, when he’d made her cum four times in a row and then twice more the next morning before he left ... yeah, that was not very “let’s stay friends” of her, now was it?

Honestly, it had taken her months before she could even look at another picture of Kel, let alone even entertain the thought of being any type of friend to him. But of course, Chevalier had released in 2023 and she figured she needed to face the music, no pun intended. It was when she got through the whole film that she thought, ‘let me text this boy and tell him that shit was phenomenal’.

That had started a chain of sweet, light, and cutesy little exchanges between the both of them through texts and DMs. Swapping funny videos or tweets, him talking to her about filming for Mufasa or Genius, her talking about a new artist she was sourcing from all throughout the country. It felt like they were really friends, for real! That is until, the thirst edits had started popping up on her For You page and she found herself watching a couple of them a few too many times. She never liked or saved any of them, of course, but that didn’t stop her from occasionally typing his name into the little search bar. 

Now, as she rounded the corner and saw the back of his head sitting outside of the restaurant, she wanted nothing more than to run up on him and whoop his ass. How dare he bring these feelings back to her?! Matter of fact -

“Ow! What the he - girl, what is wrong with you?” He exclaimed as he turned, drawing the attention of the other patrons, rubbing the back of his head where she’d hit him lightly. God, he was such a drama king. “You ain’t got no couth?”

“Boy, shut up. Spell couth.” Nevaeh dropped her bright pink purse onto the table in front of him and walked over to the entrance, as the outside seating area was blocked off by a little fence. 

“C-o-u-t-h, you can’t spell it either.” He rapped once she slid into the seat opposite him, clicking his tongue at her while she rolled her eyes. “Nice purse.”

“Thanks, my annoying ass ex bought it for me.” 

His jaw fake-dropped and he placed a hand over his chest. “Annoying ass ex? You sure you didn’t mean handsome, talented, hilariously charming ex?”

“What I say?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and it was now his turn to roll his eyes, her favorite response sounding nice and familiar in his ears. She used to say that shit to him all the time, especially when he wanted to do something he found fun and that she kept saying no to. At the time, it’d been irksome but now, it felt like home. God, he was so fuckin’ corny.

She looked around on the table in front of them and then for the waiter. “Where are the menus?”

“Oh, I ordered already.”

“Little presumptuous, no?”

“No. I know what you’re gonna get.” Kelvin watched as she tilted her head and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth, a sign that she was trying to not cuss him out. He hid his smirk behind his glass of water as he took a sip from it.

“What if I changed my order?” She crossed her arms under chest. It was at this moment that he took in her outfit, a black summer dress that came down to her calves and pushed her boobs all the way up. Her wrists held her usual assortment of bracelets, clinking together as she moved. And she’d been wearing heels to match the purse, the pink sandals she knew he loved. Had she gotten dressed for him?

“You didn’t. Jerk chicken and waffles, pepper shrimp & grits on the side, a little plate of mac & cheese, and two beef patties to take home.” He sat back and crossed his arms to match her, even tilting his head too. Ooh, he pissed her off and even more now that he was right. “Plus a ginger beer and some sorrel, also for home. You look nice by the way.”

She didn’t respond at first, still eyeing him up and down. She never remembered to order the sorrel to take home, so he used to do it for her. In the two years since their breakup, every time she ordered from the restaurant, she still forgot. Fuck this nigga.

“Thanks, I was giving a tour to an investor.”

“Investor to help purchase the spot next door?”

“Fingers crossed.” To his credit, Kelvin had always been interested in her work. It was a museum that specifically highlighted pieces by all members of the African diaspora and every year, a new region became the focus. This year was Central African focused, with artists featured from Angola, Congo, Chad and many others. It was only halfway through the year at this point but they were already prepping for next year, when the focus would be on black artists from the Southern United States, of which she was extremely excited to 100% biasedly center folks from NOLA.

“I gotta pop in, see what y’all working with.” He was saying, just as the waiter arrived with their drinks as well as their plates, filled to the brim. He was the brother of the owner and they’d known him for years at that point so it should’ve come as no surprise when, after the plates were set before them, he wiggled his wrinkled finger at them.

“I like to see you two back together. Better this way.” He offered them no chance to respond, walking away briskly as they stared dumbly after him. Once their eyes met again, they both let out a little laugh and shook their heads, digging into the food. 

It was quiet for a minute, and then, “You too.” She mumbled, around bites.

“Me too, what?” Kelvin asked, cutting into his oxtail and cornbread. 

“You look good too.” Nevaeh smiled, because she knew his face was getting a bit hot even if she couldn’t see the blush. For a Leo, he was always quite shy when it came to her giving him compliments. She liked it though. She liked having that effect on him because he more than had it on her. “How long you in the city for?”

“Couple of weeks. I got a little place in Soho that I’m leasing for a month, just to do some auditions and shit.” He shrugged like it was nothing but to her, it felt like everything. He was going to be that close for a whole month? In the past, when he came to New York, they’d meet up almost by accident but not really. They would attend events knowing (hoping?) that the other would too, never ask, and then act surprised to run into each other at the bar or something. They’d spend damn near the whole night catching each other’s eye from across the room, maybe even attend the after party together, and then have a lot of lingering stares while she waited for her Uber. Because he always waited for her Uber with her. He’d stand damn near in the middle of the street watching it drive away. She never had to look back to know that he was doing it either.

This lunch, as it carried on and they chatted away, was the longest conversation they’d had in nearly two years. She had gotten a cat in his absence, a little black one that she had named Salem and he laughed because he knew she grew up obsessed with Sabrina the Teenage Witch. He talked about meeting Beyoncé, teasing her a little because he knew she was jealous as hell (hello, she’d been in Club Renaissance at MSG!), and showed her pictures he’d semi-creepily taken on his phone, which made her laugh. Which made him laugh. Then they were talking about their parents, their friends, the great movies he still wanted to do, the artists she still wanted to have a piece in the gallery.

It was reaching nearly six pm when they finally looked at the clock on their phones. Three hours they had sat there, like nothing had changed. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and she stared off into the distance, watching a couple walk down the street in each other’s arms and blinking back tears of the memories of them doing the same thing, on the same sidewalk, seemingly forever ago.

“Thanks for paying.” She smirked up at him once he returned. His eyes widened.

“How -”

“That’s what you always used to do, go to the bathroom and pay on your way back to the table, so I wouldn’t even offer.” He looked down at her for a beat and then smiled. 

“Of course, both our mommas would beat my ass if I didn’t pay.” Kelvin put his phone into his pocket, grabbed the to-go back with her items in it, and had to shove his other hand into his other pocket to keep from offering it to her. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back.”

She got up from the table and his hand hovered over the small of her back as he led her through the dinner crowd and to the sidewalk. They walked close, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies, her gifted purse held in both hands in front of her to keep from reaching for his too. Their laughter followed them down the streets.

“I got a new painting for above the couch. It looks gorgeous when the sun hits it as it’s setting.” She didn’t have to explicitly invite him up as they approached the door to the familiar building. He just followed her in, entering the elevator and pressing the button, like second nature. 

The apartment had not changed much since he had moved out. He’d been so in love with the loft when they’d moved in together, the floor to ceiling windows, the little spare bedroom that had worked as an office for them both, especially during COVID. They would get their work done, cook dinner together and often, sit on the balcony and talk for hours, just as they had done today. Eventually, after they finished eating, Nevaeh would round the table and sit on his lap, so they could watch the sunset together.

Now, he stood in the living room, admiring the gorgeous painting. It was a group black men and women, seemingly in heaven with halos on their heads, walking on the clouds. She’d been right, the sun hit the piece in a way that made the halos shine almost. It damn near brought a tear to his eye. She was standing to his right and that same setting sun gave her her own halo effect. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

She could feel his eyes on her but she was hesitant to turn and look back at him. He was too good at that, looking deep into her eyes and making her weak in the knees. But she almost couldn’t help it, twisting her next so their eyes met. Then he leaned in, his hand coming up to her chin, and their lips connected.

Nevaeh let out a small whimper as the kiss grew. His hands moved to cover the sides of her face and her own landed on his back, her nails lightly digging into his shirt. There was such a sense of familiarity, of knowing how to move their heads and hands and lips. One of his hands slipped down her face and down the front of her throat, fingers ghosting over her cleavage and coming to wrap around her waist. Kelvin felt her shiver at his touch and smiled into the kiss, pulling away for a minute.

“Did you bring me up here to seduce me? Hmm?” He bent at the knees a bit to trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck, taking his time to suck at the skin along the side. She rolled her eyes, at first at his question and then in pleasure. She worked to speak without moaning.

“I barely had to even say or do anything to get you up here, sweetheart. It seems like you wanted to be seduced.” She brought her arms up to wrap them around his neck and sighed contentedly at the work he was doing on her neck.

He chuckled before running both of his hands down to her ass, massaging it for a couple of seconds. Oh, he missed this shit bad. “You are absolutely correct, babe, as per usual. I needed this shit.” Kelvin slipped his hands underneath both cheeks, onto her thighs, and lifted Nevaeh up which elicited a squeal from her. He walked them over to the couch, sitting himself down so she was sitting on his lap and could feel the bulge in his pants. He kept one hand on her ass as he slid the other up her dress, feeling the smooth skin of her thigh and tracing the line of the thong sitting on her hips. 

When he brought his hand over to her pelvis, he kept his eyes on her face as he gently felt the wet fabric. Nevaeh’s eyes glazed over and she closed them, moaning while biting her lip. He kept two of his fingers over her covered clit and let her rock her hips against them, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine.

“That feel good, baby?” Kelvin asked. She nodded and made a breathy ‘mhm’ sound, beginning to breathe heavily. He did too, matching her and letting his mouth fall open, taking in every minute way her face changed. After another minute, he pushed the fabric to the side and used his thumb rub over her clit while his thick digits slid down her soaked slit to its entrance. There, he slipped them in and her moan this time was music to his ears. She let her head fall back, a hand gripping his shoulder tightly as she grinded down more on his hand, her chest heaving. Kelvin took his eyes off her face to watch her breasts straining against the cups of her dress. His other hand was on her hip now, helping her to rock down on his fingers so he had to make do.

His teeth pulled on one cup and then the other, watching her spill out of the dress and he pulled one of her nipples in his mouth. Sucking, nibbling, on the peak while still using his hands to guide her toward her climax, which he could feel was around the corner at this point. He knew her, knew that her thighs trying to close up on him, her fingers digging into his shoulder, her head tilting slightly to the right - she was minutes, if not seconds, away from cumming on his fingers. He picked up the pace.

“Kelvin, Kel - oh my God, Kel, please!” Nevaeh rolled her hips down, feeling the oh so familiar tightening in her stomach. She hadn’t cum like this in a long time, not without the help of a little toy in her bedside table. She began chanting, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Kelvin!”

“I ain’t stoppin’, don’t worry baby.” He moved his mouth over to her other nipple, using his thumb to alternate between rubbing her clit and pressing down on it. Then, he inserted a third finger into her and he knew he’d done it. She stopped bouncing and dug her nails in so hard he just knew he was gonna have marks in his skin. Her mouth dropped open as she rode out her orgasm, looking him in the eye as he continued to move his hand inside of her.

After she had finished twitching on top of him, he removed his hand from beneath her dress, the loss of contact making her whimper. He sucked his fingers into his mouth and she felt her clit jump. Kelvin carefully pulled her off of him and then stood up, pulling his shirt off while she unzipped her dress and threw on to the other side of the couch, along with her soaked panties.

“Unbuckle my pants, baby.” He commanded and Nevaeh immediately reached up to do as she was told. Once the belt was undone, she popped open the button and unzipped him, his hard member stretching at the fabric of his briefs underneath. “Pull them down, both of ‘em.” And she did, letting his dick jump out of his underwear and hang heavy in front of her face. She could literally feel her mouth watering, for the love of all that is good in this world, this shit was ridiculous. 

Taking back a bit of control, she gazed up at him, making direct eye contact as she wrapped her fingers around his thick base and guided him into her mouth. His mouth dropped open again, in pleasure, watching her take him all the way to the back of her throat and then back out again. She repeated this one, two, three times before she began to move faster on him, sucking him loudly like she knew he liked it. He was genuinely surprised his knees hadn’t buckled underneath him, her eyes still on his face as he moaned and groaned, watching his dick become covered in her spit. His hand had come to rest on her head and, eventually, when he felt his balls begin to tighten, he pulled on her ponytail to get her off of him.

“How do you want me, baby?” She asked, breathing heavy as her hand slipped up and down his length. He bit down on his lip before gently pushing her back on the couch, which was low enough to the ground that he could get on one knee and be able to line himself up with her sopping center. 

Kelvin held his dick at the base, as she had done, and tapped it against her clit a couple times, listening as she moaned quietly. “You need me baby?” He looked back up at her, watching her bite her lip, nod, and ‘mhm’ again. He shook his head. “Ask me nice.”

“Please, Kel, please fuck me.” She whimpered with no hesitation, bringing her hand to rest on his stomach, tracing the abs there. “Fuck me, baby, you the only one that can make me cum right?”

“Yeah?” His voice was low and gravely as he slid into her, both of them moaning immediately. She had forgotten how much he could fill her up, especially now as he slid in all the way so her clit was touching his pelvis. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation. “None of them other niggas filling you up like this, baby?” Hmm?”

She would’ve answered but he began to rock in and out of her, his hips taking on a rhythm that had her eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. His arm stretched out above her head to get a grip on the back of the couch and Nevaeh wrapped her legs around his hips. Her hands settled on his hips, feeling him push into her over and over again.

His name fell from her lips over and over and over again. He was groaning quietly, muttering about how tight she was, how wet she was, “fuck I missed this shit” and “I still fuckin’ love you baby”.

“I love you too, yes, please, faster.” She answered back and he picked up his pace, letting his arm fall as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

“You still love me, baby? Huh?” He pressed a long kiss to her lips, their tongues dancing for a moment before she let out another moan when his fingers reached down to rub her clit once more. “Say it again.”

“Yesss, I love you baby. I love you Kelvin, I love you so much.” There were tears in her eyes, both from pleasure and from whatever emotion he was drawing out of her with his words. This was not how she thought lunch was going to go today.

“I love you too.” He groaned out, kissing his way back down her neck as he began to rub her faster, piston his hips into her with more roughness. “Cum for me, baby, come on.”

She didn’t need much more encouragement, tightening her legs around him as she wailed out during her orgasm. She stars behind her closed eyes, pressing her hands tightly against his back. Kelvin followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he came in her, her name whispered from his lips into her neck.

He still moved inside of her, slowly, until he finally pulled out of her. They both moaned together again and Kelvin rolled over to lay half on the couch as she did, both of their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. He eventually lifted himself up, picking up her still trembling legs and putting them on the couch as he walked over to the bathroom. Nevaeh listened as the water ran and then he walked over with a warm rag, wiping her down gently, something he had done hundreds of times before, just not in a very long time. She got up after he sat down and rushed to the bathroom while he waited for her, smirking at the wet spot on the cushion where they’d both been minutes ago.

“I just got this shit too.” He looked up at her as she sauntered over to him, bending over to pick up his discard shirt and slip it over her head.

“My bad. I’ll get you a new one.” His hand settled on her thigh as she stood between his bare legs, looking down at him with a small smile.

“We should talk about this.” She muttered. Kelvin nodded, standing up as he did so, before picking her up bridal style. 

“Oh definitely. We can do exactly that ... over breakfast. Tomorrow.” He carried them toward the stairs leading to the bedroom upstairs. “For now? I got some shit I gotta take care of. Make up for time lost. I’m thinking I gotta make you cum for every month we spent apart?”

Nevaeh’s jaw dropped. “Thirty orgasms, oh my God, are you trying to kill me?”

“Well twenty-eight now.” He laughed and through her shock, she couldn’t help but to laugh too. “What can I say, I missed you baby. I missed you bad.”

[lego-monkie-enjoyer]

So I've had a Shadowpeach proposal idea swimming around in my head for a while, and I felt like I just NEEDED to get it out there...

Obviously, by this point, Macaque is more than okay with being around Wukong. They've hung out as more than friends before this, but little does he know, this time is different.

Now I haven't thought of any of the minor details, but what if Macaque wakes up one day and finds a messily-scrawled note from Wukong that basically says "MEET ME AT THUH TOP OF FLOWR FRUT MOUNTIN AT 7", and Macaque chuckles, as he's grown fond of decoding Wukong-ese.

He does his usual stuff, sitting around watching musicals, writing new scripts for plays, maybe a bit of shopping at the local farmer's market, YADAYADAYADA

SO BASICALLY MACAQUE GOES TO FFM AFTER A DAY FULL OF WONDERING WTF HIS FAVORITE DORK IS UP TO, AND WHEN HE GETS THERE, HE'S LIKE WTF BECAUSE there's little fairy lights strung up around a lump-

Are those pillows and blankets…? His ears twitch, and he hears someone approach from behind. It's Wukong.

Wukong's like "Dang, I didn't think you would show up, BUT YIPPEE, anyway-"

They eat dinner (Wukong just picked up noodles from Pigsy's because he's cheap they're Macaque's favorite)

And by the time they're done eating and laughing about stupid shit, the sun has long since set, and the stars are out.

Something, something, they're laying down, and Wukong looks up at the moon, and then at Macaque, his moon HEHEHEHE

Then he asks Macaque what he thinks about the idea of spending eternity with someone…

Macaque thinks Wukong is fucking with him, so he huffs out a laugh and rolls over to face Wukong, ready to snap back with one of his famous snarky remarks, but-

But Wukong is looking at him with such love and sincerity, that he literally has to bite his tongue and do a double-take because what the fuck is going on? Is he dreaming? No… it hurt when he bit himself… What-?

Macaque thinks… and thinks some more… and finally…

"I wouldn't mind if my eternity was spent with yours…"

Wukong looks at him, smiling with tears in his eyes, and pulls an immortal peach out from under one of the blankets and Macaque's eyes go WIDE AS HE'S STILL PROCESSING THE WORDS THAT JUST CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH.

And

And

And then

HEHEHEHE

Wukong takes a bite of the peach, and for a second, Macaque gives him a 'what the fuck' look, because he's already immortal a bajillion times over, why does he need- Oh…

Wukong is kissing him… With the piece of peach still in his mouth… He wants Macaque to take it from him…

ERM… SO I'VE NEVER BEEN GOOD AT ENDINGS, AND I THINK IT'S REALLY COOL WHEN FIC AUTHORS LET THE READERS DECIDE HOW IT ENDS (Totally not because I genuinely don't know how to end this, or anything...)

SO

SO

EHEHEHE

WHAT THE SIGMA

ANYWAY, I'M STILL FREAKING OUT ABOUT THE PEACH TRANSFER IDEA, THAT'S LITERALLY SO GAY WHAT THE FUCK WAS I ON?? 😭😭😭

[heliosunny]

Yandere! Nikolai Gogol x Reader

For as long as you can remember, you were a piece in Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s grand design. Not a mere underling, nor just a tool, no, you were something far more valuable. Your mind was sharp, your instincts honed. You had a talent for reading between the lines, predicting moves before they happened. A strategist, an asset, an extension of his will. Fyodor never let you stray far from his side, his quiet presence a constant shadow in your life. You convinced yourself you were there by choice. That your loyalty was rewarded, that you had a place in his world. That you mattered.

Then Nikolai Gogol came along and shattered that illusion with a laugh.

The scent of lavender.

It drifts through the dimly lit room, weaving through the cold air like an unseen hand. Your head throbs, limbs sluggish as you stir. Instinct kicks in, your first thought is where am I? followed immediately by where is he?

Colorful silk ribbons bind your wrists, soft yet unyielding, looped elegantly around the arms of a plush chair. Not chains. Not rope.

A chuckle, light and amused, dances through the air.

"Ah, you’re awake~”

Nikolai.

Your pulse pounds as you lift your gaze, meeting mismatched eyes that shine with an unsettling mix of delight and something deeper, something dangerous.

"You drugged me." you state, voice hoarse but steady.

He places a gloved hand over his heart, gasping dramatically. "Oh dear, you wound me! That makes it sound so… malicious." He leans in, voice dropping into a lilting whisper. "Let’s say I simply helped you ...relax."

Your fingers curl against the silk restraints. "Where is Fyodor?"

At that though just for only a second, his grin falters. Then he’s laughing again, loud and unrestrained, as if you had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Fedya, Fedya, Fedya! Always him!" Nikolai twirls his cane, the motion smooth and effortless. "You’ve been playing his game for so long. Aren’t you tired of being his little bishop? His queen, even? Moving only when he says, thinking only within his rules?"

You glare at him. "I chose to be by his side."

He hums, tapping his cane against his shoulder. "Did you, though? Did you really????"

You refuse to answer.

Nikolai’s grin stretches. "See, that’s why I had to take you! You don’t even realize you’re wearing chains. But don’t worry, dear, your favorite magician is here to set you free!"

Days pass in a blur of surreal performances.

Nikolai does not chain you to a wall, does not beat you, does not scream or demand. Instead, he plays.

He sets up elaborate illusions, making rooms shift, turning halls into endless mazes where every door leads back to him. He leaves riddles scrawled on parchment, their answers unlocking meals, books, fresh clothes. He performs tricks, disappearing and reappearing at will, plucking silk scarves from thin air, spinning knives between his fingers.

"You look so bored, little dove" he sighs one evening, perched on the edge of your chair. "Shall I make something disappear? How about your patience? No? Your hope, then?"

"Give me back my freedom!" you retort.

He taps his chin, then beams. "Now, that’s a tricky one! How can I return something you never had?"

You turn away.

And yet… the fear that clawed at you in the beginning has dulled. The first few days, you had screamed at him, fought him, demanded to be let go. But Nikolai never raised his voice, never showed anger. He only smiled and spoke in circles until exhaustion seeped into your bones.

You begin to learn his patterns.

He thrives on reaction. On chaos. If you lash out, he laughs. If you ignore him, he makes his presence impossible to disregard. If you remain passive, he grows bored, but boredom, you realize, makes him dangerous.

So, you do what you must. You play along.

"You’re a lunatic" you mutter one day, watching him juggle knives while balancing on one foot.

"Ah, but I’m your lunatic now, aren’t I?"

You don’t answer.

You wake up to find the door unlocked.

Your pulse jumps. This has never happened before. A mistake? A test? Cautiously, you step out. The hallway stretches empty before you. You take one step. Then another. Then you run.

The exit is close. So close. Your fingers graze the handle. Then, a gloved hand clamps over yours.

"Now, now, little dove" Nikolai croons from behind, his grip firm but gentle. "You know I can’t let you do that."

Your breath comes in sharp pants. "Why?"

His fingers tighten just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind.

"Because" he murmurs, voice soft, "I don’t want to make you disappear too."

You look up, meeting his mismatched gaze. For the first time, beneath the playfulness, the teasing, the theatrics, there is something raw. Something desperate.

"You wouldn’t" you whisper, though doubt creeps in.

Nikolai smiles. "I would. But wouldn’t it be so much more fun to stay, little dove? To see what happens next?"

For the first time… you hesitate.

He is chaos and control. A contradiction wrapped in silk and steel. And you, after so long under Fyodor’s shadow, are starting to feel like you’re standing in the spotlight of something entirely different.

"You’re learning" Nikolai hums one evening, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Maybe one day, you’ll want to stay of your own accord~"

You swallow hard. "I just want space. My own life."

His grin softens, just barely. "Ah, but you see" he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "you’re already a part of mine."

You’ve been here long enough to know Nikolai never falters.

He is a whirlwind, always laughing, always moving. If he isn’t performing illusions, he’s making riddles, teasing you, or watching you like a cat watches a bird in a cage.

So, when it happens, you don’t believe it at first.

It’s past midnight. A storm rages outside, rain hammering against the glass. Nikolai was supposed to be with you tonight, he promised a new trick, a "grand reveal" but he hasn’t shown up.

That alone is unusual.

Then you hear it.

A muffled gasp. Something heavy hitting the floor.

You should stay put. Should ignore it. Should not, under any circumstances, involve yourself in his problems. And yet, before you can stop yourself, you’re on your feet, slipping into the dimly lit hallway.

You find him slumped against the wall, gloves off, blood seeping through his shirt.

He’s hurt.

His eyes snap to yours, wild at first, then softening into something unreadable.

“Oh dear…” he breathes, voice weak yet amused. “Did my little dove come looking for me?”

You don’t ask how he got injured.

You don’t ask who did it.

Right now, you’re more focused on the way his fingers tremble as he tries to press against the wound.

Wordlessly, you kneel beside him. “Let me see.”

Nikolai blinks. He doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, he studies you, his expression unusually still. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. Not laughing. Not playing. Just… watching.

Finally, he exhales a quiet chuckle. “Ah, so sweet. But aren’t you scared, little dove? I could just...” His fingers twitch near your throat, miming a twist. “Snap.”

You ignore him. “If you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t be sitting here bleeding in front of me.”

He grins-wide, unhinged, but something flickers in his eyes. Perhaps relief?

You press against the wound, and he flinches- a sharp, startled inhale breaking through his bravado.

“Ah—! Ohoho, you’re cruel~” He hisses through his teeth. “I love it.”

“Stay still.” You don’t know why your hands are steady. Why your heart isn’t pounding in terror. Why, for the first time since you got here, you feel like you’re the one in control.

You clean the wound, wrap the bandages tight, and for once, he lets you.

No riddles. No illusions. Just the quiet rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin beneath your hands.

Later, after you’ve finished, he leans back against the couch, watching you.

You expect him to start teasing again, to ruin the moment with some absurd joke.

But instead, he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it:

“Why?”

You blink. “Why what?”

His head tilts, hair falling messily over his eyes. “Why help me?”

You say nothing.

Nikolai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer. Then, something changes.

He grins—smaller this time, lacking its usual sharpness.

“You’re a funny one, little dove.”

You aren’t sure what he means.

But you know something has shifted.

Because now, when he looks at you, there’s something new in his eyes.

The days after that are different. Nikolai still plays his games, still toys with you, still reminds you that you are his. But now, he listens to you more. He lingers closer. He watches you not just with amusement, but with curiosity.

One night, as you sit by the window, staring at the distant city lights, Nikolai rests his chin on your shoulder and murmurs:

“You don’t hate me as much anymore, do you?”

Your fingers tighten in your lap. “… I don’t know.”

His laughter is quiet this time. Not mocking. Just… pleased.

He presses a gloved finger to your pulse, feeling it thrum beneath his touch.

“Good” he whispers.