#and usher in a new golden age

[sarafangirlart]

Lucian I know you are trying to jest but like… imagine this situation from Alcmene’s perspective, she gets raped by the king of the gods from 3 nights straight and he disguised himself as her husband in order to trick her. Not only that but he literally changed the natural order of things, literally ordered the sun to stop in order for his trick to work. How the fuck is that not terrifying?

[lilaccatholic]

I am once again thinking about the reluctant ruler whose arc justly and correctly includes assuming the throne and taking responsibility for the people set before them

[paucubarsisimp]

Hello, I was wondering if would write a Max Verstappen fic.

Like the reader is of Max's age and she is a surgery resident and has a very close relationship with GP. Max asks her to come to the upcoming race but she refuses at first and then surprises him by suddenly appearing in a race weekend. And now she is super exhausted with all the travel and her studies. So, GP takes care that it remains a surprise by sneaking her inside the garage and then Max takes care of her when he realises what happened.

And I love your writing style and I hope you have a wonderful day

smuggled in

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: in which you are quite busy as a surgery resident, but GP helps you surprise max at a race

warnings: none!

the call ends the same way it always does lately — with you tired, max quiet, and neither of you saying what you really want to.

“i can’t come to the race,” you’d told him, trying not to let the guilt sneak into your voice. “i’ve got three back-to-back shifts and two mock codes this weekend. it’s just not possible.”

“yeah,” he said, too fast. “i get it.”

you both pretended not to notice the silence that followed.

you should’ve expected it from GP. it’s very him — quiet scheming, smug planning, and pretending like he’s notemotionally invested in your relationship.

“what if i flew you out?” he says casually one night while you’re shoveling cold rice into your mouth on your dinner break.

you blink, staring at your phone. “uh. what?”

“just for the weekend,” he says. “you’re off-call. i already checked with max’s PA—”

“you checked my schedule?”

“listen, if you’re gonna date our golden boy, you’re gonna have to get used to me knowing everything.”

you snort, too tired to argue. “i can’t. i have so much to study—”

“and you can do it in a quiet motorhome with AC, real food, and your boyfriend sneaking in to kiss you between sessions,” he says. “or you can do it on your couch with a broken fan and your flatmate’s ferret crawling into your bag again.”

you exhale slowly. “you’re insufferable.”

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

you land in budapest at some ungodly hour, your body aching in that specific way it only does when you’ve been awake too long and running on pure caffeine. GP’s waiting at the back gate like he’s doing a drug deal, sunglasses on and hands in his pockets.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, dragging your bag behind you.

“you love it.”

you kind of do.

he sneaks you through the back of the paddock, avoiding cameras and nosy PR reps. you catch a glimpse of max’s helmet on a rack in the garage and feel your chest tighten in that warm, too-full way that only ever happens when you see him in his element.

“you’ll stay hidden in the motorhome until fp2’s over,” GP says. “he won’t even know you’re here.”

“you’re way too good at this.”

“i contain multitudes.”

he ushers you into a quiet lounge space at the far end of the building — dim lighting, a wide couch, blanket already folded neatly on top.

“sleep,” he says. “you look like you’re about to pass out mid-sentence.”

“because i am.”

you barely make it out of your shoes before you’re out cold.

max walks into the motorhome after fp2 expecting nothing. a drink, maybe. a briefing note. maybe a new hat.

he does not expect to see you.

you’re curled up on the couch in one of his old hoodies, a textbook open on your stomach, hair a mess, blanket tangled around your legs. you look exhausted. beyond exhausted.

“what the hell,” he says under his breath, blinking like you might be a mirage.

GP walks past casually, sipping his coffee. “don’t look at me. she just showed up.”

max ignores him. walks over slowly, kneels beside you like he’s afraid to wake you too fast. he reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.

your eyes flutter open, slow and heavy with sleep.

“hey,” you whisper, confused. “wait. you’re—oh. right.”

“hi,” he says softly, smiling now. “you’re here.”

you nod, already half-asleep again. “blame GP.”

“i’ll send him a fruit basket.”

you smile, eyes falling shut again. “missed you.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead, then your temple, then just stays there for a second.

“missed you more.”

by the time you’re awake again, it’s early evening. the sky outside the window’s gone soft and orange, and you can hear the low buzz of the paddock still moving around you.

max is sitting on the floor beside the couch, your textbook in his lap.

“did you seriously try to study while i was gone?” he asks, amused.

“i was trying to be productive,” you mumble, stretching your arms over your head. “but then the couch ambushed me.”

“yeah, that tends to happen.” he grins. “i brought food. and ice cream. and i banned GP from entering for the next hour.”

“so romantic.”

you both eat on the floor, backs against the couch, sharing bites and talking about nothing — your last shift, his feedback from FP2, the new guy in cardio who keeps microwaving tuna in the resident lounge.

he keeps looking at you like he’s still not convinced you’re real.

“i thought you couldn’t come,” he says eventually.

“i couldn’t,” you say softly. “but then i realized i kind of needed to.”

max leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “yeah. me too.”

later, after dinner and half a pint of cookie dough ice cream, he pulls you into his lap on the couch. you curl into him like second nature — knees up, head tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around his torso.

“you have to get back sunday night?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“mhm. shift starts at six.”

“brutal.”

“you gonna send me off with one of your hats again?”

“depends,” he murmurs. “you want the lucky one or the one that makes my head look huge?”

you smile, eyes already slipping shut again. “surprise me.”

he brushes his fingers through your hair, soft and slow.

“you know,” he says quietly, “i think this might be my favorite surprise ever.”

you hum against his chest. “don’t let GP hear that. he’ll make it weird.”

“too late.”

but you’re already asleep, heart settled, body warm, and everything else — the races, the hospital, the pressure — fades away for just a little while.

and in the quiet corners of the paddock, max holds you like he never wants to let go.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted, @landoslutmeout , @linnygirl09, @spidybaby, @freyathehuntress, @dakotapaigelove,@beathreat,@dessashippr lmk if you want to be added or removed!

[clarebear-0925]

I WAS RIGHT

(Photos courtesy of Avatar_TheAsh on Twitter)

I KNEW I SAW HIM! I THIS MEANS THAT THE JUSTICE SOCIETY OF AMERICA WAS A PREVIOUS ORGANIZATION LIKE I THOUGHT!!

SUPERMAN SPOILERS

Ok did anyone else notice that in the Hall of Justice scene, one of the murals on the wall had other heroes on it?? I swear to god I saw Wildcat

[bookdork1]

noah wyle in the pitt is just john carter in an alternate universe dealing with running an ER in a post covid world and like. god. the show seems really good. its like the best episodes of ER but with the gritty realism that the golden age of television taught filmmakers. ER was one of the first shows to usher us towards that era and now this new show is here because of that legacy and the medicine is all the more brutal because its all the more realistic. and i know he's not carter in this but watching it you can't help thinking "this is exactly what carter is doing in his universe" because now he's not that scared med student with no idea what he's up against- now he's mark with a lifetime's worth of medical knowledge and the compassion to do his best to share it with his patients and his fellow doctors.

[flwrstqr]

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“At the party,” you mumbled. 

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him. 

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted 

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

��YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time. 

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive. 

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims. 

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind? 

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him. 

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls. 

“Huh?” you look up from talking. 

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks. 

“Uhm..” you hesitate. 

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts. 

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him? 

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak. 

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart. 

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you. 

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But  you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything 

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist. 

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time. 

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back. 

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter. 

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 

[pure-smut]

touch starved.

featuring: Sakura Haruka x f!reader

contains: sakura is a needy, subby mess in this, riding, unprotected s*x, creampie, overstimulation, implied multiple rounds, praise, begging

word count: 1.9k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

You and Sakura Haruka have been dating for two months and you’re starting to feel… on edge.

Not because of anything bad, of course. Sakura is a total sweetheart as a boyfriend, if not a little bashful - always walking on the curb side of the sidewalk, remembering your coffee order, sending you pictures of dogs he sees on his patrols throughout the day.

But if there’s one thing you’ve noticed, it’s that Sakura doesn’t touch you.

You kissed him on the cheek once and his head turned into a tomato. You managed to get him to hold your hand for a movie date and he blushed so hard he started sweating.

It’s cute but you’re both adults and you want something a little more. So you start to lay it on thick.

You meet Sakura for breakfast before his patrol, sitting on the same side of a booth as he scarfs down his eggs. You start light, resting your temple on his shoulder. Sakura stills for a moment before carrying on eating so you move to the next step.

This time, you slide your hand over his thigh, squeezing his leg.

Sakura nearly chokes on his breakfast, heat crawling up his neck.

“You look so handsome today, Haru,” you purr in his ear.

Sakura’s breath catches and you see his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“T-thanks,” he manages to stammer out before looking sideways at you with one golden eye. “You look pretty today.”

You break out in a smile, reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek. His skin is hot as you let the kiss linger slightly.

Sakura leaves for his patrol, still beet red, as you wave him off. You don’t see him again until later that afternoon, when he’s having a break with some other Bofurin members.

You greet them all warmly before standing in front of Sakura, who’s sitting half-slumped on a bench with one arm resting on the back. He’s sporting a new bandage on his forehead.

You lean forward under the guide of checking his bandage, concern on your face, and let him see deep down the neckline of your top. You know it’s worked when Sakura’s cheeks tint pink, his eyes glued to your chest.

“You get hurt again, baby?” you ask him, running your thumb down from his forehead to his jaw.

“I-It’s nothing,” he says thickly.

You plant a kiss against the bandage before moving down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. You expect him to pull away but, to your surprise, he nearly chases your lips with his own when you withdraw.

Sakura blinks a few times, blushing furiously, as you smile and tell him you’ll see him at home later.

You’re home before him, leaving you with just enough time to choose the right outfit. You settle on a short skirt – too short to wear outside your home – and low-cut top with no bra.

That should do the job.

When you open the door to Sakura, he makes a choked noise from the back of his throat. You usher him in before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I missed you,” you tell him sweetly.

Sakura’s cheeks are beet red but he reciprocates your hug, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you flush to him.

God, you look incredible. The very picture of sin. Sakura’s normally tripping over his words, not used to being treated with kindness or soft touches, but it’s quickly overtaken by a visceral need.

Sakura adores you. Every time you’re close, every time you touch, he’s reminded of the bewildering fact that you’re with him and every nerve in his body lights up. He had to run from the diner earlier because just you touching his thigh gave him a tent in his pants. He had to go back to patrol late from his break because he saw down your top and he needed ten minutes to calm himself down.

It's not that Sakura doesn’t want to touch you. It’s that he knows if he starts, he won’t be able to stop touching you.

You gently guide him to the couch, climbing on his lap to straddle him. Sakura’s hands immediately go to your hips as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“You’re so good to me, Haru,” you say, your voice sultry as you push his two-toned hair back from his forehead. “I want to make you feel good now, okay?”

Sakura’s awe-struck. He nods eagerly, licking his lips and tipping his face towards yours.

You snake a hand up his neck to cup his jaw before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Sakura inhales sharply through his nose, the feel of your pillowy lips against his making his heart set off at a gallop. You deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth and Sakura tightens his grip on you, almost whimpering against your lips.

It’s like a dam breaks inside Sakura. He kisses you back frantically, his tongue meeting yours. His hands run up to your waist, squeezing you as if afraid to let you go. You move from his mouth to his jaw and then lower down still to his neck, kissing along his windpipe, and feel him melt under your touch.

You’ve never kissed Sakura like this before, never gone anything beyond a one-time hand hold and a few pecks on the cheek. But now you’re both filled with a desperate need.

You can feel his hard-on already, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties as Sakura bucks his hips under you. You push down, grinding against his bulge and making Sakura whimper.

“Does that feel good, baby?” you coo, peppering loving kisses across his warm cheeks.

“Mhm, fuck… y-yeah, feels s’good…” Sakura breathes out as you drag your clothed pussy along his length.

Even as his brain becomes addled with needy pleasure, he can’t stop his hands roaming over you. He reaches up to start groping your breasts, feeling the soft flesh between his fingers and your nipples hardening under his palm.

“S-Shit…” he mumbles.

How many times has he thought about touching you like this? More times than he can count – and none of his imaginings come close to the real thing.

Sakura leans forward, pushing your top up over your tits so he can bury his face in your cleavage. His hands move down to your ass, gripping you tight as he pushes and pulls your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. Every stroke of your pussy, even through two layers of fabric, is making his cock leak so much precum, it’s soaking through his pants.

Sakura’s lips latch onto your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as he starts to suck roughly, his teeth grazing you. You card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, encouraging him.

“You’re such a good boy, Haru,” you tell him, your voice coming out breathless and lusty.

Sakura moans into your breasts and you feel his cock throb. Neither of you are undressed but he’s a mess already, all needy and handsy and desperate.

“P-Please let me fuck you,” Sakura whimpers. “Please, I’ll do anything, just let me fuck you, please.”

You pull your hips back, cupping Sakura’s chin to force him to look at you.

“Are you sure, baby?” you ask between soft kisses at the corner of his mouth.

Sakura nods desperately, his hips involuntarily bucking up. His cock strains against his pants, so achingly hard.

“I need to feel you, please, let me cum inside you. Please, baby, please, I can’t-” Sakura whines through gritted teeth, his hips still stirring at a chance of feeling your pussy rub against him again. “I need you so bad right now.”

The sound of his sweet begging only makes you wetter. You press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I can’t say no to you, Haru.”

You reach down to unbutton his pants, pulling his cock free. He’s hard as a rock, the tip shiny with precum. Your eyes widen slightly – he’s bigger than you thought he’d be.

“Ah! F-Fuck…” Sakura gasps as he feels your soft fingers close around it, his hips bucking again, desperate to rut into you.

You pull your panties to the side, drenched with your arousal, and align your sopping hole with his fat mushroom tip. Sakura whimpers as he feels your heat, making you smirk. Having him under you like this, like putty, so needy and helpless, is making your clit throb with desire.

You slowly sink down onto him, his girth stretching you but made easier with the amount of slick between your legs. Sakura gives a long, relieved moan as he feels himself slot inside you, so snug and warm and tight.

“That’s it, baby,” you soothe him, slowly bouncing up and down. “Does that feel good?”

“So f-fucking good,” Sakura stammers, pleasure short-circuiting his brain and making it hard to speak.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his brows knitting together in the middle as his lips part. His hands are on your tits again, groping you, feeling them bounce under his touch as you ride him. His cock throbs inside you, engorged with how close he is to cumming.

You roll your hips, rubbing your clit against him with every stroke, bracing yourself with your hands on his muscular shoulders. Sakura starts to thrusts up, meeting your hips with his as he becomes more needy, more desperate to cum.

Sakura wraps both his arms around you, pulling you flush to him and raising your hips slightly.

“So close… so close…” he whimpers as he thrusts up, holding you in place as he ruts up into you. He’s so sensitive he could burst, caught between the need to cum and the need to prologue this feeling for as long as possible, your heavenly walls squeezing him so tightly.

He presses his face against your tits, sucking roughly on your nipple as he fucks up into you. Sakura’s cock bullies into your pussy, stroking against the spot inside you that’s making you drip like a faucet. You tug on the roots of his hair, scratching your nails over his scalp as you whisper hoarse praises to him.

Sakura’s eyes roll back inside his head, your nipple falling from his mouth as he lets out a deep moan. His mind whites out as his orgasm hits, a choked groan escaping his throat.

“Fuck… fuck…” he whimpers as you feel him come undone inside you.

Sakura doesn’t stop thrusting even as he spills his load, fucking it into you. His grip loosens slightly on you so you meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock again as Sakura bucks and jerks under you.

“That’s it, let me have it all, baby,” you talk him through it softly.

You slow as Sakura’s arms tighten around you again, his face smooshed between your tits, his hips stuttering to a stop. You can feel him breathing hard against your chest, sweat coating both your bodies.

Gently, you pry him away from you and meet his lips in a kiss.

“You did so good, Haru,” you praise him, cupping his jaw.

You’re aware he’s still inside you when he throbs at your words, even as his face is dazed, cheeks pink.

“I’ll give you a few minutes and then we’ll do that again, okay?” You wiggle on his lap, Sakura wrapping his arms tighter around you as your walls squeeze his oversensitive cock. “Can you do that for me?”

Sakura nods eagerly, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“Yes, ma’am.”

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[dioptre-hertz]

daft punk is actually just the helmets, the guys they were possessing went back to normal frenchmen after they took em off. now the helmets are waiting in a hidden forest glade somewhere in provincial france and when someone puts them on again in the next century it will usher in a new golden age of daft punk

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (1)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

---- part one | next part >>>

You know Kuroo Tetsurou before you officially meet him.

Why? Because he's practically a legend to your current four-year-old who's been talking about him nonstop from the moment you've strapped her into the car on the way back home.

"Apparently he was a--a volleyball champ!" Sakura chimes from the back as you swerve into the right lane in the direction of your tiny flat, "he knows how to serve from faaaar away, and --and when he serves, it's like--kapow! and boom! and whoosh! like that!"

You can't help but laugh because seeing your daughter so excited about volleyball is something you hadn't been expecting, not when you have two left feet and a stamina of a tiny pet rat.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your first week back," you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile, "that's good isn't it? Better than last year then?"

"Yes! I love Kuroo sensei!"

It seems that this particular teacher has specifically changed Sakura's view on school, and you had made a mental note to thank him.

But all thoughts of thank-yous and praise had flown out of your head the moment you bump into the said PE teacher in the corridor leading up to Sakura's class the next morning.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You cry out, bending down to help him pick up the stack of papers that are now flying about and scattering at your feet, "here, let me help you--"

"It's Kuroo sensei!" Sakura chirps suddenly, causing your eyes to snap up at him.

Oh. So that's the PE teacher she's been gushing about all week. You're quick to shove the papers into a messy pile before handing them out to him, "I'm really sorry about that," you say sheepishly.

"Nothing to worry about," his deep voice is what catches your attention at first, followed by his height as he straightens up so that you get a clear view of his facce; angular features, honey-golden eyes that blink slowly at you in a way that makes you want to squirm, and messy dark raven locks that looks like he's just rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

Not that you won't mind if he rolled out of your bed, you mind chanted without warning.

You stop it as soon as it surfaces, horror and panic crashing into you at the same time. This man is--what? Probably half your age?

"Kuroo sensei! Do we have class with you later?" Sakura, unknowing of all the tormenting thoughts flickering past your brain, seems all too excited to see her PE teacher.

He chuckles lightly before ruffling her short bangs, "not today, little munchkin," he leans down to see her face, "but I'm pretty certain that we have class tomorrow. How about that?"

"Oh really? Yay!" Sakura claps, beaming up at him like he's just put a new sun in her sky, and Kuroo grins before straightening up once more, gold eyes clashing against your dark maroon.

"I don't think we've met," his voice, it's so deep and gravelly that it makes you want to swoon. You snap out of it the moment you spot his outstretched hand, "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, the new PE teacher."

"So you're the new teacher that Sakura's been talking about all this time," you send him a shy smile as you shake his hand, realizing that his palm practically dwarfs yours in comparison, "it's nice to meet you. I'm Sakura's mum. How are you enjoying the school?"

"It's been really great actually," his grin widens. He has a beautiful smile, one that will easily make all the ladies of staff fall at his feet, "I'm slowly finding my way around the timetable, but other than that it's been smooth-sailing till now."

You nod, "that's great. I'm glad to hear," and then turn to your daughter, "you know where your class is right?"

"Of course I know mum," Sakura folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

You laugh, ruffling her hair before ushering her onwards, "alright alright. Yes, you're a big now. Then off you go."

You both watch her teeter down the hall, sometimes almost falling off-balance due to her newly-acquired skill of running with the weight of her bag around her shoulders, and fondness explodes across your chest. It's sweet and bitter at the same time, watching your daughter grow day by day. She's always changing, you realize, every day is a new one, maybe her hair gets longer, or you find a new mole along her face. It's like she's growing so fast you barely have time to savour it.

"Cute kid you have there."

You realize you're not alone upon hearing the familiar scratchy alto, and quickly blink back to reality, "ah--thank you. She can be a handful when she wants. Sometimes."

"All kids are," Kuroo tilts his head towards you, a smile on his face, "but sometimes I think they know more than we do."

You can't help but chortle, "definitely. Sakura's practically a know-it-all. She's in the phase of correcting everything that I say."

"Ooh, a bit bossy huh?"

"Tell me about it."

It's then that the bell rings, disrupting any kind of moment you might have with the PE teacher.

"Anyway," you dip your head into a small bow, "thank you for taking care of Sakura."

"It's really no trouble, miss...?"

"It's Y/N. Y/N Kosuke."

"Y/N," his golden orbs locks on yours, swirling with a kind of playfulness, with a warmth that makes your heart stutter, "well, I shall see you around, Ms. Kosuke-san."

And with that, he swerves away with a small wave as you watch his broad back disappear down the hallway, wondering whether it's stupid to imagine whether he'd winked at you or not.

Probably not.

Because why would anyone be interested in a mom right?

-----

The second time you bump into Kuroo Tetsurou is during Sports Day.

You remember back when you were in high school, how you'd always find an excuse to skip out on the activities -- feigning your period or cramps just to get to the nurse's office and away from your classmates -- just so that you could sit and daydream about anything and just about everything. You weren't that popular in your cohort, making it easy for you to disappear whenever you wished. But despite that, you could count on your hands the number of times you'd replaced someone and failed to deliver, causing wave after wave of disappointment as you lost team points as a result.

But now, as a grown up responsible for a child and always accustomed to doing whatever they liked even if that meant bringing you unhappiness or shame, you were obliged to attend such events. Actually enjoyed being there and watching Sakura giving it her all despite her short limbs and her lack of talent in sports. From what you can see, she clearly hasn't taken from her dad's side. Every single flaw in physical movement comes down from your side of the family and at the thought, a smile curves at the edges of your lips as you proceed to clap even harder.

"Is Papa going to be there tomorrow?" asks your daughter the night before as you're tucking her into bed. Her wide eyes are staring up at you like you're the one who can change anything in her world. And yet, just the thought that you can't grant her this one wish makes your heart quake.

You press a soft kiss along her forehead before smoothing over her features, "i'm sorry honey. I'm not sure if he'll be able to come tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"He has work to do. But he promises to be there this weekend," you try to smile, though it's hard when Sakura's face doesn't light up like it usually does at the mention of her father. That's when you prod, "everything okay, Sakura?"

Your daughter merely turns away to hide her face against her pillow. Her mumble comes out soft and practically a whisper. But you can still hear her loud and clear.

"Why doesn't he ever come?"

Your heart drops to your stomach. You move to hug her, in hopes of appeasing the pain she feels. But she's right, you can't do anything about it. About this. It's a selfish act, the act of divorcing the one whom you thought would've been your lifelong partner till the day you die. And yet, you hadn't been strong enough for her sake.

And Sakura's the one victim to all consequences that follow.

Because how can you tell her? That her father has decided to choose someone else -- another woman, instead of staying by his family and taking on his responsibilities as he should? How could you tell her that her own father has abandoned her?

Sakura isn't stupid. She's well aware of everything that happens around her. But such words coming out of her own mouth causes your own eyes to burn with tears.

"Papa loves you. He's just--busy with work. But you know that he loves you so so much right?" you hope that your murmur is enough to appease her.

And it does, for now.

Sakura snuggles closer to your bosom, small fingers gripping your t-shirt as though she doesn't want you to leave, "will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she murmurs through closed eyelids.

You nod, smooth one hand over her forehead, "yeah. Sleep now, okay? Tomorrow's a big day."

Hence the reason why you're here. Burning under the midday sun. Hat poised over your head, and a piece of stray paper from your office that you're using as a makeshift fan.

Until now, it's proven itself useless in response to the heat.

"Come on, Greens!"

That familiar alto. Raspy and velvet like chocolate. It makes your eyes swipe right to the source only to see none other than the PE coach.

Kuroo Tetsurou is bathed in sweat as he stands by the sidelines, cap over his messy hair and eyes never straying from the row of students balancing potatoes across their tiny spoons. His t-shirt is practically soaked through from the back, showing off his array of muscles twisting and twining like vines around a bark of a tree, and when he crosses his arms over his chest you take note of the swell of his biceps. Taunting, tantalizing.

He's a catch, is what your mind thinks.

You shut it down immediately. What's the point of daydreaming when you're not ready to commit to anything? Not even a fling?

No. You'd much rather stay alone. You know exactly how it feels like to be loved and to lose that love by someone whom you thought had your heart as much as you had his. And you weren't in a rush to fall into that trap once again.

It's finally Sakura's turn and almost subconsciously, you straighten up in the bleachers to get a better look at your daughter all decked in Blue. She's holding out her spoon, tongue sticking out in concentration just as a teacher places a potato right in the middle of it.

Catching your eye from where you sit, she gives you a wide beam, all teeth, and you grin back, doing a silly little wriggle of your fingers. You do the mistake of glancing back towards your right only to meet the PE coach's eyes by mistake.

He grins a Cheshire cat smile, as if he knows that he's been caught but he doesn't care, and your own smile turns shy, ducking your head and soon averting your eyes.

The whistle sounds. The race is on.

"C'mon Sakura!" You yell as loud as you can, watching your daughter waddle in what you hope is a straight line. She's second at this point, trying hard not to lose her potato as her classmate -- a red -- blunders right through without hesitation, "C'mon Sakura! You can do it!"

Your daughter all but wobbles, lips parted in concentration as another boy zooms past. You cup your lips using your hands and shout with all your might, "C'mon Sakura! Faster!"

She finishes in third place, not a bad start for her sports confidence, and comes running straight up to you so that you pick her up with a whoop.

"That's my girl!" You nuzzle into her sweaty hair, "aren't you a big champ?!"

"Did you see mum?! I'm third!" she flaps her arms around, "I'm third! Will I get a medal?!"

"You sure will," you pinch her cheek, "and you did great! I didn't know you were good at balancing potatoes!"

"Next time I'll come in first!"

"Then we'll have to practice at home," you chuckle.

It isn't until the end of the Sports day that Kuroo Tetsurou finds you amidst the horde of parents making their way to the parking lot.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're opening your trunk. You wave at him, slightly embarrassed as you recall the way he'd locked eyes with you briefly on the field. You strive for nonchalance as you say, "how's it going, coach?"

"Not bad, how about you?" he walks straight up to the car, waving at Sakura from the backseat before turning his attention back on you. You and the multiple bags you're organizing, "what's this?"

"Oh it's for an event," you huff out and pull a bag up into the trunk.

"Here," Kuroo's hand reaches for the next one, "let me help."

"Oh--uhm--" you weren't expecting such chivalry. Heat rises to the back of your neck and you're glad it's a hot summer's day, for you're quite certain your cheeks are flaming, "thank you."

"No problem," he sets the last bag into the trunk, pushing it all the way so that it's secure, "what kind of event is it anyway?"

"It's a corporate event," you explain as he closes the trunk for you, "I'm an event planner."

Something lights up in his golden pupils. He whistles, "haven't heard of that one before," a small smile curves at his lips, "what's the weirdest event you'd had to plan?"

"Oh don't get me started on that," you shudder, "I once had a themed birthday party, but they wanted their party to be set in changing rooms, with the theme 'haunted toilets'."

"Wha--no way," Kuroo bursts out laughing. He has a very nice smile, and a laugh that is contagious. You can't help but grin at him, "is that even legal?"

"Well if they pay you to hire your changing rooms, wouldn't you do it?"

“I suppose so,” you snort, “as long as they pay me.”

He chuckles once more, the sound rumbling through his chest and almost making you swoon. God, he's attractive, even more so when he's all sweaty for some unknown reason.

You hurriedly try to end conversation when you feel your tummy tingle with those familiar butterflies, "well--It was nice meeting you again, Coach."

"Likewise," he tips his head towards you, "and I think you've got yourself a pro athlete back there."

That makes you chortle, "I'm not quite sure, Sakura's been graced with my lack of coordination."

"I wouldn't say so. She came in third, didn't she?"

"You're right," a small smile curves at your lips, "well anyway, thank you. For everything. You're probably exhausted."

"I am, but you're good company," he grins.

Butterflies erupt through your chest and you know without a doubt that this is your cue to leave, and quickly bow to him, "thanks again Coach, see you around."

"See you," a pause, before he adds, "get home safe."

These are simple words, won't that do't matter as much and can be said oh-so-politely. But still, it makes your heart beat so fast you feel it echoing through your chest. You try not to show him your blush as you slide into the driver's seat and watch him raise a hand in mid-wave as you pull out of the parking lot. Sakura waves back with as much excitement and you wonder briefly whether she likes him so much because of the lack of father figure in your household.

Your phone rings then and you scramble for it from the passenger seat, barely able to press down on the green button as you keep your eyes on the road.

"Hello," you place it on loudspeaker and drop it to your lap as you make a turn for the motorway, "hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Oh.

"Papa!" Sakura's exclamation comes from the back, almost makes you skid off the road as you quickly right yourself with a silent curse. Why in the world is he calling now? It's almost like he knows you were having a good time.

"Aoi," your mumble spills out, "how are you?"

"Good, good." a small pause. "how was sports day?"

"Was great, you missed Sakura in her potato-run," you try not to let the bitterness affect your tone, though it's harder to manage than expected, "how was Cali?"

"Very nice actually, Sakura would've loved it. It's warm, with beaches, and people are always doing stuff. It's a nice city."

Of course it's nice when his new wife owns a mansion and no fees are to be paid for the household. Especially nice when his new wife's family has a multi-national jewelry business and a cash flow that seems neverending.

So you cut to the chase, "why'd you call?"

"Jeez y/n," he laughs, "so brutal. Can't I even ask you how you've been?"

"I've been well, so has Sakura," your patience is running thin, "so tell me, why'd you call? Isn't it like midnight over there?"

"Actually it's still morning," there's amusement in his tone, the kind that makes you want to hurl something at him, "but anyway, I was calling to let you know about the papers."

He doesn't have to mention which papers. You know exactly what he's talking about, "what about them?"

"I've already signed them and sent them your way. You should be receiving them by the end of the week."

"Yes, and?"

There's a bout of hesitation from his side, "and I'd appreciate it if you could sign it as quickly as possible."

Another needle to your gut, "that's fine but...why the rush?"

"Ah well," you don't have to see him to know that he's currently scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his whenever he's unsure or nervous. You hate that you know that about him, "we're--we might be getting married in a few months."

You're so shocked you almost barrel straight into the vehicle in front of you.

-----

[zeropro]

How long have they been away from Cybertron, and is the planet alright or a hustle world?

I think at some point I'm gonna make a post with all my AU content in chronological order, but for now you can just have my notes on the timeline.

(check tags for the tldr on the ask)

Here’s the current timeline so far…

Long ass time ago BCE

The first Cybertronian Golden Age

Luna 1 disappears

Paradise era, Knights of Cybertron leave

Cybertronian Dark Age (The Age of Barbarism)

Rise of the thirteen

Cyberutopia is created somewhere

Onyx Prime (who is NOT Shockwave in this AU) attempts a colonialism

The Dead Universe and Unicron are created

Caminus, Velocitron, and other planets are colonized by Titans

Megatrous kills Solus Prime with the Star Saber

First civil war

During experimentation into gestalt technology, five beastformers are made into the first successful Combiner team: the Predacons

After the war, Nova Prime ushers in the Second Golden Age and resets the calendar

5.7 million BCE

“Functionist sentiment becomes an institution of society overseen by the Functionist Council, with robots expected to stick to a single job determined by their alt modes.” -tfwiki

Nova Prime enacts “The Expansion,” for which the first wave of cold constructed Cybertronians are brought online

Megatron (1st cycle 012) and Orion Pax are born under Functionalism. Megatron is one of the first cold constructed mechs.

The Constructicons are created

Nova Prime disappears into the dead universe and Nominus Prime takes leadership under a new corrupt senate. Expansion is put on hold

Megatron works as a miner in Tarn (demolition=menial labor class) Megs wanted to be a medic but quickly gives up on that dream

Orion Pax works as a dock worker in Iacon (truck=transport class) OP wanted to be an archivist and is able to work his way up to it due to having access to greater social mobility

Cybertron experiences no shortage of violence: civil wars, riots, off-world campaigns, and alien invasions continue to happen sporadically throughout its history. Wanting to bolster Cybertron’s airforce, a new style of war-frame is designed and mass produced. These cold constructed jets received the classification: Seekers (after their intended function: seek and destroy)

Skywarp is born (6th cycle 023) as a first generation Seeker and was immediately sent to the military. He is then at some point reassigned to spec ops due to his powerful outlier ability.

Seekers offline too easily so the next few waves of Seekers are sent to the Cybertronian War Academy for training before joining the military

Skywarp is sent to Praxus and subjected to intensive study. Space bridge and quantum based hyper-drive technology will later see great advancements thanks to his contributions to science

Thundercracker is brought online as one of the last batch of Seekers (24th cycle 124). By then the Cybertronian War Academy roster was too full so he was given the (limited) option to pick his vocation. He chose to work as a courier in Vos.

“Those who were constructed cold face institutionalized apartheid; although this eventually ends due to mounting public pressure, including mass protests and marches. However, intrinsic prejudice against constructed cold Transformers persists in among a sizable percentage of the population.” -tfwiki

Megatron and pax become friends while advocating against cold construct apartheid and functionalism. Pax considered Megatron like a brother to him but Megatron always felt distanced by their class divide

Scientists have been pulling sparks out of the Matrix faster than frames can be constructed for them. Sparks without ready frames will be “frozen” for future use

The Matrix "runs dry" (is replaced by a fake) and cold construction as a common method of creation stops entirely

The Senate’s evil science division, the Institute, establishes Shadowplay and Empurata as common practices

The energy crisis forces a planet-wide rationing of resources

Cryak commissions a Seeker frame to be constructed and has a thawed spark placed in it. Starscream is born (22nd cycle 415).

5 million BCE

Starscream escapes

Thundercracker finds Starscream

4.5 million BCE

Due to the energy crisis, tension is high between city-states. The Senate establish the sport of Gladiatorial games to try and mitigate the animosity. These games are held in Kaon and become very popular

Starscream defies Functionalism by pursuing many different jobs. Whenever he would get in trouble or fall on hard times he’d turn to Thundercracker for help

Orion Pax encourages Megatron to publish his political writings

Orion Pax joins the police force

The first appearance of the pacifist grassroots movement calling themselves Decepticons. Their ideology is based on Megatron’s first published treatise

Megatron is caught in a bar fight and is wrongfully arrested. Whirl beats him up in jail, changing Megatron’s perspective on violence

Megatron loses his job due to automation and signs up to be a gladiator

Starscream goes to college (not really, I just like to call the period of time where he went to work as a Scientist in Iacon "college" cuz it's funny XD) and meets Skyfire. The two become close

Senator Protius promises to make the Decepticons a real political party by way of census. In truth he just wanted a list of names so they can shadowplay all the Decepticons. Skyfire almost signs on but Starscream convinces him not to

Megatron continues to publish his writings while gaining fame as a gladiator. The Decepticon movement takes a shift from pacifism towards terrorism

Skywarp likes watching the gladiator fights whenever they are assigned to patrol the events  

The gladiator Ravage finds a discarded Soundwave struggling to deal with his telepathic powers and takes him under his wing

Skywarp plays a prank on the government

Starscream and Skyfire go off-world on an expedition, intending to travel to the Sol system and back (they're gone for about 40 turns on the Cybertronian calendar, or approximately 50,000 Earth years)

The Senate discover Nominus’ matrix is a fake and have him secretly killed

The Senate enacts the Clampdown

Thundercracker loses his job and is forced to join the military

4.3 million BCE

Senator Shockwave gets shadowplayed

Sentinel Prime takes leadership

The Decepticons begin secretly forming an army under Megatron

Orion Pax and Megatron break up

Starscream returns to Cybertron without Skyfire and is subsequently tried for Skyfire’s murder, for which he was found innocent. He is still expelled from the Academy

Starscream goes back to Vos, and crashes on Thundercracker's couch for a while

Thundercracker takes Starscream to watch a gladiator fight, which is where Starscream takes note of Megatron

Despite his reservations, Starscream joins the military in order to learn how to fight as well as gain rapport with the military Seekers

While stealing a military airship, Megatron finds Skywarp locked up in the ship's engine room and rescues him. Skywarp joins the Decepticons

Tension between Vos and Tarn is at an all time high, leading to outright civil war between the two city-states

4 million BCE

The Bombing of Vos ends the civil war

Megatron shows up to recruit Decepticons in the aftermath of the Vos-Tarn civil war. Starscream stands up and gives a speech that convinces the majority of Vos' Seeker population to join the Decepticons

Starscream joins the Decepticons

Starscream uses Skywarp to get close to Megatron

The Decepticons threaten war by launching an attack on Iacon. Starscream leads the group that levels the Academy to the ground. He doesn't feel better.

Thundercracker is deployed to help quell the Decepticon activity in Iacon. Thundercracker confronts Starscream and Starscream begs him for help. Thundercracker joins the Decepticons

Megatron is captured and almost gets shadowplayed, but escapes thanks to Starscream, Skywarp, and Soundwave

Megatron no longer thinks the current system can be changed, even with violence. Now his aim is to burn it all down and rebuild from scratch.

Starscream and Soundwave massacre the entire Senate 

Shockwave joins the Decepticons

Megatron officially declares war

Megatron defeats Sentinel Prime and Zeta Prime takes leadership

The Fall of the First Five Cities

Zeta Prime attempts a war crime, Orion Pax and Megatron team up to stop him, and then Megatron betrays Orion and leaves him to die

Orion Pax becomes Optimus Prime

The Battle of Sherma Bridge, where Optimus Prime and Megatron first clash (allegedly)

Praxus falls

Starscream becomes Air Commander. He appoints Thundercracker and Skywarp as his Wing Second and Third. The Trine is complete

Decepticons pull ahead and as a last ditch effort the Autobots thaw previously frozen sparks to construct a new army of MTOs

War happens

The Trine grow close

Megatron gets worse

3 million BCE

War continues to happen

Megatron at this point has tunnel visioned into wanting only one thing: defeating Optimus Prime

Megatron and Prime get into giant hamster balls and play WOW for several vorn. Starscream is mad about it

Starscream starts trying to take over the Decepticons and Megatron physically punishes him for it.

While on a mission, Thundercracker meets Bumblebee briefly

Skywarp accidentally sacrifices himself to protect Starscream, almost dying. Starscream is devastated to find he actually cares about this idiot

1 million BCE

The Autobots (aboard the Ark) and the Decepticons (aboard the Nemesis) leave Cybertron in search of resources

They crash on prehistoric Earth and remain in stasis for one million years

The war continues on Cybertron, lead by Shockwave and Elita1

0.9 million BCE

The Decepticons overthrow Shockwave and he flees to Luna 2

Hot Rod gathers a rag tag crew and leaves Cybertron on the Lost Light in search of Optimus Prime

The Lost Light discovers the Dead Universe and Nova Prime

Cyclonus joins the Lost Light crew

0.7 million BCE

Shockwave clones Sunstorm

The Great Shutdown: Cybertron completely runs out of energy and everyone falls into stasis

The Lost Light return to Cybertron. Upon finding everyone in stasis, they venture back into space to find a solution

1984

Reawakened on Earth, the Autobots continue to wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons

The Decepticons rebuild the Nemisis into the Victory and try to head back to Cybertron, but they crash into the ocean after Autobot interference

Megatron orders Shockwave to build him a space bridge while he collects energy on Earth to revive Cybertron

Megatron begins abusing Starscream

Typical G1 Cartoon shenanigans occur

Wheeljack builds the Dinobots

The Decepticons find Skyfire in the ice. Starscream tries to get Skyfire to join the Decepticons, but Skyfire refuses when Starscream proves willing to harm humans

Starscream starts to have nightmares. He stops sleeping well

1991

Shockwave completes his space bridge and visits Earth, only to find Megatron has completely lost the plot. After serving on Earth for a few years he goes back to Luna 2 with the intent on finishing his doomsday device, only to find Sunstorm has escaped. He begins migrating his lab to the Decepticon's ocean base on Earth in order to finish his work there.

Megatron obtains frozen sparks from Cybertron and builds the Stunticons. The Autobots rescue half the sparks he had brought over and create the Aerialbots

Starscream's plots to overthrow Megatron are becoming more and more unhinged. At some point he goes to Cybertron and steals some incarcerated memory components and builds the Combaticons, effectively freeing these criminals (including Swindle) from jail

Hot Rod and the Lost Light crew arrive on Earth

2008

Megatron goes too far

Thundercracker defects

2009

After the Decepticons destroyed several human cities, the Autobots finally defeat Megatron with the help of their human allies at the Battle of New York

Seeing that Megatron has fallen, Starscream declares himself the new leader, but Soundwave rescues Megatron's mostly dead body and convinces Shockwave to try and fix him

Optimus Prime dies of his injuries and Bumblebee becomes leader

Hot Rod, now going by Rodimus, leaves Earth on the Lost Light

2010

The humans are justifiably angry with the Cybertronians for destroying their world. Unable to leave the planet, the remaining Decepticons either get captured or go into hiding. 

Thundercracker watches a lot of TV and is now friends with Bumblebee

The Autobots are helping capture Decepticons on Earth

Starscream struggles to lead the Decepticons

2011

Sunstorm arrives on Earth

Starscream frees the Decepticons from human containment, but they still wont follow him

2012

The humans have rebuilt the cities that were destroyed by the Decepticons three years ago

Everyone basically living as tho the war is over

Megatron is brought back by Shockwave and immediately goes to punish Starscream for doing a poor job leading the Decepticons, even tho Starscream did his best.

Skywarp's loyalty to Megatron finally breaks apart, and he gets them out of there before Megatron turns violent, effectively defecting from the Decepticons

Starscream tries to apologize to Thundercracker in order to get his help with fighting Megatron, but Thundercracker turns him down. Starscream shoots Thundercracker in the back, much to Skywarp’s dismay

Starscream and Skywarp hide out on Earth for a bit

Megatron is trying to gather his scattered forces, specifically the combiners

Starscream and Skywarp have an argument and part ways for a bit

Starscream comes across some Decepticon activity and attacks them

Megatron shows up and begins beating Starscream to a pulp

Skywarp jumps in to save Starscream but is shot mid-warp and his warp drive destabilizes

With no other option, Starscream turns to the Autobots for help, with Skywarp in tow

Thundercracker gets a dog

And that's where we are now! Thanks so much for reading!

The current plan going forward is as follows:

1 year later (2013): Combiner Wars, which leads directly into Dark Cybertron [feat. Sunstorm] followed by the Presidential Arc, which lasts about 3-5 years ending in the Apology Comic

[svtiddiess]

Precious Paws: Puppies And Possessions

Synopsis: You bring home a new addition to the family…but Wonwoo isn’t too happy about it.

Pairing: black cat hybird!Wonwoo x afab!reader x golden retriever hybrid!Mingyu

Genre: angst, fluff, non-idol! au, hybrid! au, oneshot, series

Rating: sfw

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: possessive Wonwoo, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: They'll make up in the next one, I promise!

This is part of my Precious Paws series! Check out the masterlist here!

Click here to join the series taglist!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Click!

The sound of the door locking signals your arrival as you enter your apartment. Wonwoo's footsteps echo down the hallway but come to an abrupt stop. He freezes at the sight of you, black ears twitching and tail standing rigid in alarm.

"Who the hell is that?" he hisses, eyes narrowing as his tail sways dangerously behind him.

"Nonu, I can explain," you say softly, shielding the trembling, scuffed golden retriever hybrid behind you.

"Then explain. Why is that mutt in our house?" Wonwoo growls, his voice sharp enough to draw a soft whimper from the hybrid.

"He has a name, Nonu," you sigh. "I'll tell you everything after I clean Mingyu up."

Wonwoo doesn't budge, his tail flicking as he stands firm, blocking your path.

"Nonu," you warn, voice firm. Wonwoo flinches, ears drooping slightly, before letting out a small hiss in Mingyu's direction and stalking off to brood in the corner of the living room.

You take Mingyu's hand and try to lead him to the bathroom, but he stays frozen in place, too scared to move under Wonwoo's seething glare.

You glance back at Mingyu with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Mingyu. He's not going to hurt you."

Mingyu meets your gaze and gives a timid nod before following you into the bathroom. Helping him undress proves to be a bit of a struggle—given that he's well over six feet tall—but eventually, you manage and usher him into the shower. His ears droop as he lets out a small whine, but you reassure him that you won't leave. With a reluctant pout, he steps into the shower and washes up, emerging a little while later with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Sitting him down at the vanity, you gently tend to his wounds. He winces, letting out a small cry as the alcohol stings his skin, but you do your best to soothe him. Once his injuries are cleaned up, you dry his hair and hand him some of Wonwoo's clothes to wear before leading him to the kitchen to get him something to eat.

As you pass through the living room, you spot Wonwoo still brooding in the corner. The moment he lets out a low hiss, Mingyu instinctively steps closer to you, slightly cowering. You squeeze his hand reassuringly and guide him into the kitchen, all while hearing the quiet sound of Wonwoo's footsteps stalking you from behind.

Mingyu hovers near you, watching with wide-eyed admiration and eagerness as you start cooking. You're almost certain you can hear him drooling as he waits patiently. Chuckling, you finally hand him a plate of food. He devours it within minutes, finishing so quickly that you can't help but laugh when he pouts, looking at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for more. Amused, you give him another serving, which he eats just as eagerly.

Taking a moment, you study him—this towering golden retriever hybrid, standing over six feet tall, with golden-brown floppy ears and a fluffy tail wagging happily as he eats.

After finishing his second serving, Mingyu sets down his plate and suddenly pulls you into a warm embrace, murmuring soft "thank you's" against your shoulder, his gratitude evident in every word. Before you can even react, you're abruptly yanked from his hold, and in the next second, you're trapped against Wonwoo's chest, his possessive arms locking around you.

A low hiss escapes Wonwoo, followed by a deep, rumbling growl. His eyes burn with fury, ears pinned back and tail bristling in anger.

"Don't you dare touch her, you filthy mutt!" he snarls, tightening his grip on you.

Mingyu flinches, his ears and tail drooping as he takes a cautious step back, whimpering under Wonwoo's intense glare.

"N-Nonu, calm down," you say, trying to de-escalate the situation.

"No! He touched you! How dare he touch you?!" Wonwoo growls, his voice sharp with rage. "Get out! You're not welcome here, mutt!"

Mingyu trembles, his big brown eyes welling up as he backs away, looking utterly devastated.

"Mingyu, no!" You shove against Wonwoo’s hold and quickly move to Mingyu's side, wrapping your hand around his in a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

"Y/N?" Wonwoo's voice wavers with shock and confusion, his ears twitching slightly as he stares at you.

"Why…Why are you siding with him?" Wonwoo whispers, his lips trembling at the corners.

"Nonu, I'm not siding with him," you try to explain gently.

"No, you are! You are siding with him!" Wonwoo cries out, his voice laced with betrayal.

"Nonu…" You frown, searching for the right words, "Mingyu's a stray. I found him abandoned on the street. I brought him home so he wouldn't starve, get more injured…or worse."

"You should've taken him to a shelter! Why did you bring him here?!" Wonwoo hisses, tail flicking sharply behind him.

Then, suddenly, he freezes. His eyes widen, realisation dawning.

"You…You're replacing me," he breathes out.

"What?! No! Nonu, I would never replace you!" You say, utterly baffled by his claim.

"You already are!" He snaps. "You brought him into our home, gave him my clothes, and even cooked for him!" His growl reverberates through the room.

His voice trembles as he takes a step back. "If…If you wanted me to leave, you could've just told me." His eyes glisten with unshed tears.

You gasp and immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly.

"Nonu, I would never think of getting rid of you. Ever," you whisper, voice shaking. "I love you so, so much. You know that."

"If you really love me," he growls, pulling away, "then get rid of that mutt."

With that, he storms off toward the bedroom. You and Mingyu both flinch as the door slams shut.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu whimpers, clutching his tail protectively. His ears lie flat against his head. "This is all my fault."

You step forward and gently cup his face. "No, Mingyu. This isn't your fault. Nonu's just…wary of strangers. He'll warm up to you, I promise." You offer him a reassuring smile.

But Mingyu doesn't look convinced. "Maybe I shouldn't be here," he murmurs. "Maybe I should leave. You should just take me to a shelter like Wonwoo said." His voice wavers, and his eyes well up with fresh tears.

"No! Mingyu, please stay," you plead. "Everything will be fine, I promise. I'm not giving you away." You frown, gently running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

Mingyu hesitates before giving you a small, tentative smile. "Okay," he whispers. "Thank you…for giving a filthy stray like me a place to stay, for the food, for the clothes."

His fingers fidget as he lowers his gaze. "I always thought humans were bad, but…maybe not all of them are," he says softly.

Your heart warms at his words.

"I hope you can finally find a place to call home here," you say with a warm smile.

"I hope so too," Mingyu says, his eyes glimmering with hope.

Mingyu's expression soon turns somber.

"I really want to get along with Wonwoo," he admits, voice barely above a whisper.

You offer him another reassuring smile. "I'm sure you will, eventually."

A flicker of hope sparks in his heart—just maybe, he and Wonwoo could become friends.

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[toskarinfr]

many of you are calling me "irresponsible" and "a menace to society" but i assure you, after i finish killing all of my enemies in specific we'll be ushered into a new golden age so long as none of them come back for any revenge

[aventoru]

FOUR SEASONS

aventurine x stoneheart!reader

word count : 6.8K (what is happening to me???)

warning(s) : angst, hurt/comfort, a sprinkle of fluff, canon details may be inaccurate aka i make up some stuff, mentions of aventurine's past (murder, trauma, death of family members, etc.), brief mention of suicidal ideation (but he doesn't actually want to die), aventurine's nihilism/pessimism, less romantic than i thought it would be, more of a character exploration than anything, inconsistent writing/formatting, misunderstood aventurine, argenti cameo!!

a/n : at the bottom!

summer / the curse

“He’s supposed to go on trial? For what?” you asked Jade. “Murder,” she replied, lowering herself onto the velvet chair. “And you’re recruiting him?” you asked in disbelief. “He’s blessed by Gaiathra Triclops, it’ll make him a very valuable asset to us,” she explained. You couldn’t argue with that.

As if on cue, the wooden doors opened, and a young boy stepped in. Despite his small, frail figure, he radiated determination and confidence from across the room. “Welcome, Kakavasha,” Jade spoke as he strode to the podium where she sat, standing directly under the spotlight.

From the moment he entered, you were, to say the least, intrigued by his unique appearance. He had pale skin, and shaggy golden locks with even shaggier clothes. But what really caught your attention were his eyes. They were bright purple, with black irises outlined by a striking blue. He held a fierce gaze , as if he knew he would win before the game even started. There was no questioning why Jade wanted to recruit him. You tuned back into the conversation, just in time to hear Jade raise the question :

“Tell me, what are you prepared to wager?”

His answer struck something inside you.

“My life.”

His life? You were rather shocked by his bluntness. You had only ever seen people wager their money, assets, power, but never their life. It was the one thing that remained when they were stripped bare of everything. Apparently, that wasn’t the case for this kid.

It made sense, in a way. What else could he possibly have to give? And with luck on his side, the only ending Kakavasha had ever known was victory. What a tough, lucky kid, you thought as the meeting came to an end.

Your eyes traced Jade’s figure as she descended from her seat and led the new recruit to you. Seeing him up close and personal fueled your curiosity even more (god, those eyes really were something).

“(Name), let me introduce you to your new partner. This is Kakavasha,” she said. You stood unimpressed as Jade ushered a now (suddenly?) timid boy towards you*. He was so passionate just a few minutes ago, what is this lackluster attitude?* “You two are around the same age, so I’m sure you’ll get along,” Jade smiled, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same.

“(Name),” you stuck out a hand to him. The boy hesitated before speaking. “Kakavasha,” he whispered, barely audible. “Can you tell him to speak louder? I can’t hear,” you turned towards Jade. In truth, Aventurine didn’t see any point in speaking to you. He came here to talk business, not make friends. “Be courteous, he’s still new to all of this,” Jade chided. “We’re nearly adults now, he should at least speak for himself,” you argued, without missing a beat.

“I’m Aventurine,” the boy spoke again, louder this time. Jade observed your reaction closely as you two shook hands. “It seems you’re finally getting accustomed to each other,” she seemed satisfied by the brief interaction. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it,” she walked off, her expensive heels clacking against the marble floor.

To avoid the awkward silence that accompanied first meetings, you tried to make small talk afterwards. “I heard you’re blessed by the God of Luck. Must be how you got to work for us.”

He stayed silent at that.

Ever since that day, it has been cat and mouse between the two of you.

Day 2 : “Good morning, Jade,” you chirped as you sat down next to Kakavasha in the meeting room. Without so much as sparing a glance in your direction, you saw him move a seat away from you in your peripheral vision. “Hey, are you allergic to me or something?” you whipped your head to face him. “You’re the one who couldn’t be bothered to greet me,” he clapped back.

Day 57 : “Hey! Get back here asshole! You’re going to need me for the negotiation you know?!” you yelled hopelessly as Kakavasha ascended into the sky on the spaceship, leaving you behind at the port. Your frustration grew as he mouthed “I can’t hear you” through a small gap in the door before shutting it completely. Good partners my ass.

Day 409 : “So, what will you bet on this time?” the host asked. You were currently involved in a very intense game of poker with Numby, Dr. Ratio, and Jade. “All in,” you smiled mischievously as you dropped a black card onto the table. Your smile dropped as soon as you lost everything that round. A frantic Aventurine sprinted in soon after, announcing to everyone that all the money in his spare bank account was gone. You hurriedly slipped away before he caught on.

It had been over year working with Kakavasha, and nothing much has changed between the two of you. Well, except for the fact that you both were promoted and were now part of the 11 Stonehearts. He took the name Aventurine, and you, Citrine. But despite that, your love-hate relationship remained the same, and your judgement of his character didn’t waver much either. That was, until the fateful mission regarding Planet A.

‘A’ was a newly founded planet with a surprising amount of rare resources underneath its barren surface. As one would expect, the IPC immediately seized the chance to obtain it. However, numerous corporations were one step ahead, and the IPC could only assist in terms of mining, which resulted in this meeting.

Halfway through the conversation, Aventurine began pressuring for the IPC to obtain full control of the territory, not only of the resourcing sector, as they were clearly more capable of management. This unfortunately rubbed the other parties the wrong way, and to make matters worse, they had brought more backup than you thought. In this fight or flight situation, you and Aventurine were given the order to choose the latter, as the IPC would prefer not to make any more enemies.

As the two of you rushed towards your spaceship, the partner-turned-enemy at your heels, you were pulled back from behind and carelessly flung to the side. You fell down, hopelessly awaiting death’s embrace but before the darkness could swallow you, Aventurine stepped in and scooped you up in his arms, running like your lives depended on it.

You felt your feet touch stable ground once you two safely entered the spaceship and fled what was now considered enemy territory. Before you breathed out a sigh of relief and muttered a ‘thanks’ to Aventurine, you reached downwards to make sure your cornerstone was still tucked safely inside your pocket. But upon feeling nothing but empty fabric, you realized you had dropped it in the snowy terrain. You pursed your lips as the regret sank in. The thought of dying in the snow back there didn’t seem so bad.

You and Aventurine were soon ushered into the emergency clinic on board for a check up due to the rough encounter earlier. Fortunately, you both were fine, minus a few small wounds here and there. After those were swiftly tended to, the physician sent you both to your rooms for some rest. The walk back would’ve been silent if not for the friction of your shoes against the burgundy carpet, reminiscent of your first meeting. You were one step short of reaching your cabins when Aventurine suddenly spoke up.

“I didn’t want to see anyone else die because of me,” he stated. Despite his monotone, you could sense an underlying current of desperation in his voice. “It’s not your fault,” you replied, confused by him taking all the blame.

When you finally had the courage to look up at Aventurine, you were unable to face the intense emotions blazing in his irises and quickly turned away. That was the first time you realized it, the curse that had been placed upon him.

“I see,” you whispered.

The ride back to headquarters was eerily silent. You had lost your lifeline tying you to the IPC, and with this failed mission, your time at the organization was surely over. It was a shame that the moment you felt like you finally understood Aventurine, you had to say goodbye to him.

But his luck must have rubbed off on you because when you returned to your dorm after landing, you found your cornerstone on the table, glittering beautifully under the starlight. You breathed out a sigh of relief as a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.

I see you, Aventurine.

fall / the beginning of the end

Horror coursed through your veins as you observed Aventurine’s figure in the skies of Penacony. You watched as he delivered an onslaught of attacks onto the Astral Express Crew and that supposed Galaxy Ranger, Acheron. Before the plan was put into action, he had told you there would be great risks and advised you to stay out of it for the most part. But never in your life had you seen Aventurine take such a gamble. Although his life-long motto was ‘high stakes, high reward’, you knew this was something much more personal.

Under any other circumstance, you would’ve been thankful he was putting everything on the line to secure a valuable territory. After all, it was easier to dismiss his actions as performative and arrogant rather than admit them as self destruction. Yet you couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry spread across your chest as his poker chips rained down from the sky. The only words that rang in your head were the ones he had said to you that day.

I didn’t want to see anyone else die because of me.

You thought he was truly gone when Acheron unsheathed her sword and delivered a fatal blow to his body. Your entire being was filled with remorse and grief as the Emanator’s slash cut through the Dreamscape. In a blinding flash, Aventurine’s attacks disappeared, and him along with them.

At this point, you didn’t know what to think. How could this possibly happen? He was blessed by luck for goodness sake. You wracked your brain for an explanation, but the only conclusion you could come to was that wherever he was, you would never be able to see him again. It was later that night when guilt settled in next to you in that bathtub.

You drowned in self pity, fixating on how you were rendered useless in the face of danger despite being his companion. And what was worse, you had known of his conniving and reckless actions for years now, so why didn’t you stop him sooner? Were you that cowardly? Or was Aventurine over-reliant on his luck this time around? You couldn’t help but twist and turn in your dream, dwelling on these thoughts for a long time. If only you could see him again.

And then, you heard him calling out your name.

“Citrine, are you finally awake?” you heard his voice again, clearer this time. “Aventurine, is that you?” you whispered.

“No, it’s Veritas Ratio. Of course it’s me you idiot.” Since when did he crack jokes with you?

“Y-you’re alive?,” your eyes snapped open as Aventurine faded into view before you. “Or wait no—am I dead?!” you gasped in horror. Your perception of time had been skewed after laying down for what felt like an eternity.

“If you’re dead then I don’t have a gambling addiction,” he laughed forcefully. He just did it again. “Anyways, Penacony has been secured with minimal casualties. In these past system hours, it seems you’ve been trapped in a dream, which you’ve awoken from just now,” he answered.

“Oh, thank the Aeons,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, trying to process the situation.

“Guess I really did you a favor, huh? How about you cover all my paperwork for the month as a thank you?”

“See, you’re being annoying again,” you complained, playing along with his antics to hide your growing suspicions.

“I risked my life for you and that’s all you have to say to me?” he teased.

And again.

You thought Aventurine would be more serious in the aftermath, planning for the future of Penacony, or scheming like he always did. The last thing you expected was for him to joke around on the job. Out of all your colleagues, Aventurine was the most corporate-oriented person you knew, so what was this attitude? But you resisted the urge to narrow your eyes. The interrogation could wait. Currently, you had more important things to take care of.

“Yeah, I know you did,” you replied earnestly. “It’s just, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you on the mission. I can’t believe I didn’t stop you from carrying out that crazy plan—”

“You know I chose to sacrifice myself, right?”

“Yes, and I let you,” you pursed your lips. Aventurine raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had never seen you look so remorseful but he chose to ignore your apologies for the better.

“And then after that you—wait, what happened exactly? You disappeared, so how did you suddenly come back?”

“It’s a long story that doesn’t really matter. In the end, the mission was a success. You did great, Citrine,” he reassured, patting you on the shoulder. But I didn’t do anything?

“We should get going, HQ is calling for us.”

After the door clicked behind Aventurine, you hurriedly shoved all your items into your luggage. Well that was strange. Aventurine only acted aloof when he was lying. You were certain he was putting up a front to hide something from you. Something about him was different. Something was wrong.

There was only one thought lingering at the back of your mind.

Where was he all this time? And what happened?

“Be honest with me, what’s going on?” you asked once you two had stepped foot back onto the IPC. Despite reading over the detailed report he shared with the rest of the Stonehearts, you were still left with many unanswered questions. You knew he had purposely left out the more personal details of the mission. So here you were, hot on his heels as on the way back to his office.

“Acheron pulled me into Nihility’s void. Then, a knight by the name of Argenti came to my aid at the last minute, and we managed to escape. Simple as that,” Aventurine summarized, never once slowing down his pace.

“Are you, I don’t know, okay?” you pried further, barely managing to match his step.

“Hmm, I am,” he replied.

“You’re lying to me,” you stopped in your tracks just outside his office. Aventurine’s hand had already reached the doorknob, ready to turn it and ignore your efforts to try and understand him. Because if you really knew him, you would’ve known he hated confrontation, especially when it came to his emotions and intentions.

“Why would I?” he deflected.

“You don’t tease me so casually, you call our relationship “strictly business”, and you never joke around during missions. Yet all of a sudden you’re being friendly and nice? Don’t try to fool me. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” he muttered. You’ve had enough.

“Stop that, Kakavasha!” you exclaimed more loudly than you expected. A few employees walking by turned to face you in surprise.

“You have no right to call me that,” Aventurine finally turned to face you. He held his usual poker face showing no sign of weakness, his heart completely frozen over. But his eyes held the same fire that was lit when he saved you that day. Aventurine was pitying himself again. To make matters worse, he thought you were pitying him, too.

“Listen, I may not know the full story, but just know that whatever happened isn’t your fault. In fact, it was my—”

“Why are you doing this?”

A sudden sadness washed over you.

“Because we’re friends.”

The only thing you managed to catch before Aventurine slammed the door to his office shut was the unreadable expression in his eyes. The fire had been extinguished, but the embers still remained.

Aventurine leaned against the doorframe and heaved a sigh of relief once he’d heard your footsteps fade down the hallway. His shoulders sagged as he sat down in his office chair. You had no reason to pry about the events at Penacony, really. It was far beyond what he was capable of sharing to others.

Aventurine closed his eyes, and for a split second, recalled the moment he came face to face with his past.

“Farewell Kakavasha,” Aventurine handed his younger self the dark hat, which the kid accepted with kind eyes. He waved goodbye as he walked off into the distant, not daring to turn around. For if he did, he was certain he would want to stay here. Forever.

His time at the IPC had left him colorless and barren. The corporate system he once trusted picked at his vulnerabilities and tore him apart, creating an emotionless robot out of the innocent child he once was. It hacked at his flesh, leaving him with even more unfaded scars than before. Gambling was no longer the one luxury that made him special. Now, it was his only lifeline, the one thing that could ensure his survival in this cruel world. He felt like he had reverted into a hopeless little boy again. Like he was Kakavasha.

Aventurine was awoken from his river of thought when a figure came crashing through the darkness, landing right next to Aventurine. “Hello, stranger. I have come here to save you as I see you have been trapped in this…realm,” the redhead paused briefly to take a look around. “I am Argenti, a Knight of Beauty. We must hurry, for something bad is happening in Penacony!” That must mean Sunday has made his move.

Before Aventurine could respond, he felt himself being hoisted into the strange man’s arms and carried off. “Where are we going?” Aventurine asked. This was, to say, the least weird thing that had happened to him since arriving at Penacony. He had never encountered this knight before, but from the name and appearance, he vaguely remembered looking over the Knights of Beauty and recalled the man being associated with the Galaxy Ranger Boothill.

“To safety!” was the vague response he received.

Safety, hm? Aventurine was left to ponder again.

Why did he have to struggle against his own destiny? What was his purpose in life? Would anything he do make him worthy of seeing his family again? He knew he had to move forward, for his family were, undoubtedly dead, but some things were easier said than done.

Aventurine started to lose himself. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. He was sure of nothing and doubtful of everything. The only place that gave him room to breathe was here. Perhaps he really should turn back and—

“Kakavasha, where are you going?” a familiar voice called out. Aventurine turned around, trying to find the origin of the voice. “Sister, what are you doing here?” he asked in surprise when he saw his sister standing in the snow, a lamp in her hand.

“What do you mean? I’m heading home with you, of course?” she cocked her head to the side. “Heading…home?” he asked again. “Kakavasha, do you not want to attend the celebration? In the end, it was thanks to your luck that we managed to defeat the Katicans and survive.”

“We survived? Does that mean that mom and dad are at the celebration, too?”

“Yes, of course! And, I’m sure they wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” his sister smiled before stepping forward and grabbing his hand, “Now let’s go home.” She tried pulling him along, but the little boy planted his feet into the snow, refusing to budge. “Kakavasha, is something the matter?” she turned around, confused at his stubborness.

“Did my luck really save us all?” he inquired.

“Of course. We’re still here together, aren’t we?”

“I just…I recently had a nightmare that I was the only one who was lucky enough to survive. And you all died, leaving me alone. I thought it was all my fault,” he started to cry.

“No, Kakavasha,” she set down the lamp, crouching down to give him a hug. “None of that would be your fault,” his sister pulled away to wipe the tears on his face. “It’s just a nightmare, okay? I’m sure your luck will continue to bless us so that we can stay together for a long, long time. Think about it. Your blessing will grant your wish to become successful, and our family will be happy, and everything will be good,” she reassured. Kakavasha felt his earlier torment settle and slowly disappear. Turns out, it was just a bad dream.

His sister held the lamp, illuminating both their faces in the dark, and he could see her expression was filled with hope. The siblings smiled at each other as a small warmth enveloped them in the cold winter night that settled upon what was once a battlefield. Kakavasha could feel it in his soul. This was where he belonged. He was home. “Kakavasha,” his sister whispered tenderly, “Never stop dreaming, okay?”

And suddenly.

“Dreaming.” He studied his sister’s face.

Why am I seeing (name)’s face?

The lamp.

“Dreaming.” She had morphed into you.

Why does it have to be (name)?

It started to look weird.

“-dreaming! You’re dreaming! Please wake up!” Aventurine’s eyes snapped open as he abruptly sat up in the bathtub. So that was just the Dreamscape. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself from the series of events that have recently transpired. After opening them again, Aventurine came face to face with a frantic figure standing in front of him, the Knight who was in his dreams now appeared in real life.

“Oh, thank Idrila you’re awake. It seems Mr. Sunday is trying to use the power of the Dreamscape and those trapped in it to awaken the Order,” Argenti explained the situation.

“Ah, I had a sense the situation would turn out that way,” Aventurine nodded, unsurprised. Technically speaking, he had taken part in the ordeal this entire time.

“Come, we must find a way out of here. How lucky we are to be awake, or else we would have been trapped inside our dreams forever,” Argenti helped Aventurine stand up, pulling him out of the bathtub.

“Yes,” Aventurine briefly glanced over at the dark hat resting on the bedside table,

“How lucky indeed.”

3 days later

After the mission at Penacony, an awkward tension settled between the two of you. Here you were, sitting at an executive meeting on the redevelopment of Penacony, trying your best to avoid any interaction with Aventurine. Despite having your eyes glued to the wooden table in front of you, you could still feel him staring holes to the back of your head.

As soon as the meeting ended, you hurriedly stood up from your seat and brushed passed the other executives, exiting the room as quickly and quietly as possible. As soon as you stepped outside, the stuffy atmosphere dispersed and you headed to the bathroom to freshen up. You stalled, hoping that by the time you stepped out again, everyone would have filed out, including Aventurine.

Your hasty strategy seemed to have worked because by the time you finished, the meeting room was empty and the hallway was quiet. You breathed out a sigh of relief, and upon checking your watch, you realized it was time for lunch. You were scanning your head through all the possible meal options, lost in a daydream when suddenly —

“(Name),” a familiar voice entered your ears.

You flinched, not expecting there to be anyone remaining. But you knew that voice. That cheeky, lighthearted tone could only come from —

“Aventurine,” you turned to your left, “What are you doing here?”

You tried to remain as cheerful as possible, putting on a smile that was genuine but still reserved. After all, you two were, in his words, strictly business.

“I was waiting for you,” he stated. You cocked your head to the side, intrigued by the straightforwardness and the look in your eyes urged him to finish. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he continued. You pondered for a second. The meeting had just ended so that must mean…

“Ah, you must mean the redevelopment plan for Penacony! I’ve been so busy these days I’ve only managed to draft it. I’ll try to review and email it to you by tonight,” you reassured him. Upon his silence, you assumed your talk was done and continued, “Well, I’ve got to get lunch now, so I’ll be off.”

But before you could brush past him, Aventurine caught your wrist, pulling you back. “Let’s get lunch together,” he said. Now this was surprising. You slowly turned your head, completely caught off guard by the sudden predicament. “What? Why?” you questioned.

“I just…” Aventurine looked away for a second before his eyes drifted back to you. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Since when? We’re colleagues, yes, but not friends,” you clarified.

“You said we were friends.”

“And you said we were strictly business.”

“Well, I’ve thought it over. And now I’ve changed my mind.”

“Aventurine,” you sighed in exasperation, “After our conversation last time, you’ve clearly established that we’re colleagues. I’m sorry I overstepped my boundaries and won’t be doing so again. So could you please, just let it go and stop bringing things up?”

“But I thought you wanted to be my friend. You do, don’t you?” he asked, testing the waters.

“You’re acting strange. Have you been scheming something again?” you asked skeptically.

“No, I—,” he sighed, seemingly frustrated at himself. “Listen, when you asked me about Penacony, I thought you were doing it out of pity. I thought you were looking down on me and my incompetency despite being blessed by this so-called luck.”

“Did you really think I would stoop that low after everything that you did?” you asked in disbelief, “Just what kind of person do you think I am?”

“I just couldn’t believe someone would genuinely care for me,” Aventurine admitted. He knew he was projecting. That he expected others to hate him like he hated himself. He had spiraled so far down a rabbit hole of self-deprecation he found your genuinity a surprise.

You almost failed to decipher his true feelings from his monotone voice and usual poker face. But his eyes told a different story. They were regretful. He was somber.

“Don’t you dare think that again,” you hesitated, “I care about you, okay?”

“I know,” he nodded.

“Good, now let’s go get some lunch, I’m starving.”

“I’ve…finally let go of my past,” Aventurine said. You looked up from your cheesecake in surprise. You two were sitting at a local cafe after another mission, debriefing all the events that had happened. You had attended an important gala the night before, meeting other entrepreneurs and successfully sealing deals thanks to his luck and your charm. Aventurine claimed it was because you looked stunning in your formal outfit that made everyone entranced, but you begged to differ.

“What do you mean..?” you trailed off, confused at his ambiguous words.

“On Penacony, I mean,” he clarified.

“Oh, I see,” you tiptoed around the subject, afraid you would accidentally dig too deep into his fresh wound. Seeing as he stopped there, you continued.

“Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters,” you said, taking a sip from your drink.

“Hey, don’t be nervous. I’m fine now,” he reassured you, “I realized I had to move on, to use my luck and achieve greater things until I am deserving to face my family again when the time comes.”

You nodded in agreement, but upon observing his expression opposite from you, you realized he wasn’t content like you had expected him too. In fact, he looked troubled.

“Are you, happy?” you questioned further.

“I guess,” he mumbled with a shrug. The usually confident look in his eyes wavered. He wasn’t too sure about anything anymore. Aventurine’s mind was preoccupied. Was his destiny ever truly his? Or was this another one of luck's plans? Why was he still doing something he had no passion for? What was the point of it all?

After a moment of silence, he spoke up.

“Do you really care about me?” he responds to your question with his own. You were taken by surprise, but that expression soon morphed into one of content. Your reached across the table, your hand barely brushing against his in an act of comfort.

“More than you know.”

winter / the escape

Months passed, and you completed one mission after another, oftentimes with Aventurine. After the successful mission in Penacony, Diamond saw the potential in your teamwork and assigned joint missions between the both of you more and more. You both completed them all with ease, but something felt off.

Aventurine had stopped scheming. His plans weren’t as meticulous as before, his words not as slither-tongued, his gambles not as daring. It was as if he had reached a slump; his motivation to work was lost and he was burnt out. But you knew better than that. He wasn’t just lost. Aventurine was spiraling.

You saw it in the way his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes. You heard it in his high-pitched laughs, a telltale sign of his facade. You felt it in his touch as cold as his poker chips. Your mind often drifted back to the question you asked him at the cafe. The contemplation in his face back then gave him away, but you chose not to comment on it until now.

You had scheduled a business meeting with him tonight, but it had been half an hour and your coworker was still nowhere to be found. You were starting to get worried. Despite his aloof personality, Aventurine was always punctual. But not today.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door to Aventurine’s office. The atmosphere was pitch black, but you could still make out his figure on the couch from the starlight streaming through his windows. Aventurine had a glass of wine in one hand, his broken Stoneheart in the other; it had yet to be repaired, but by the look on his face, it didn’t seem like he wanted it to be. Upon closer observation, you noticed an empty wine bottle on his coffee table. Your coworker wasn’t just drinking, he was drunk.

The blonde, contrary to the concerned look on your face, couldn’t help but chuckle dryly to himself upon seeing your arrival. Aventurine had gambled that you wouldn’t come looking for him after his disappearance. And for the first time in his life, he had lost. But upon seeing the concerned look on your face, it was also the first time he was glad to lose.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, turning on a dim light to better see him. “Nooo turn it offff, it’s too bright!” Aventurine complained, raising his arm to cover his eyes. He was in a worse state that you previously thought. With his cheeks flushed and eyes dazed, you were sure the man was one sip away from blacking out.

You quickly sat down next to him and removed the wine glass from his hand. “Nothing’s wrong, (name), give it back,” he slurred, trying to reach for the cure to his pain. “Aventurine, you’ve drank more than enough tonight,” your sternly replied, “Now tell me what happened.”

“I’ve recently realized…that my life has become meaningless,” Aventurine hiccuped. “Is that why you’ve been slacking off at work?” you asked. “Not just that. I’ve also given up,” he turned to face you. “Hey, is this about Penacony?” you inquired. You were met with silence on his end. “Hmm, I thought so. You know I would be more than willing to listen to your troubles, right?”

“I just don’t get it,” Aventurine stated, his eyes trained on the glowing Stoneheart in his lap. “Why does my blessing feel like a curse? Is this really what I’m meant to do? Survive alone and leave my family behind? Would this make me deserving to face them again?”

Aventurine was in deep thought, the inner turmoil and conflict apparent on his face. “Well, I’m sure that above anything, your family would want you to be happy,” you repeated the same words you had said to him. You had nothing else to give in this situation. No grand philosophy, no wise words, no unsolicited life advice. Just the truth.

“It feels like an obligation to gamble. I have to keep winning,” Aventurine pursed his lips and raised his head. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over the edge. This was the closest to crying you had ever seen him.

“I’m not Kakavasha, I’m not Aventurine. I’m the boy blessed by Gaiathra Triclops. The only valuable thing I have is that gift, which feels more like a curse, and that’s all I’ll ever be,” his voice broke as the tears silently succumbed to gravity. One by one they fell, salt streaming down his face. The light reflected off the trail they left behind, creating a broken image on his porcelain skin, reflected by the broken Stoneheart in his hand.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. I see you for much more than your luck,” you reassured him.

“If I disappeared tomorrow, would you remember me? Would you take this broken rock and smash it to pieces and scatter them over my grave? So that everyone would stay away? Would you be the only one to visit me, even when the shards of glass could hurt you?”

“I’m not letting you go. I care about you too much for that,” you pulled him into your embrace, “And I know you don’t want to die. You just want to leave this haunted place.”

“And how would you know that?” he looked at you, almost scornfully.

“Because I know you.”

“How can you be so sure? I’m just this empty shell without a path in life. I have no ambitions, no purpose. I’m just…this.” A silence passed by as he fiddled with the stone once more. “I don’t even know who I am,” he whispered, broken.

And then, Aventurine felt your lips on his.

“What was that for?” he blinked in surprise.

“I-,” you quickly pulled away, “I-I’m so sorry, I just wanted to distract you so you could calm down but I didn’t even think it through properly—”

“So it wasn’t because you love me?”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, I just—” you quickly clarified, only to realize what you’d just said and raised your hands in protest. It really wasn’t the right time nor place for such romantic endeavors, but you realized your efforts weren’t in vain when a small smile appeared on Aventurine’s face.

“Hmmm, then maybe you should distract me some more. I wouldn’t mind.”

“T-that’s,” you hesitated. He gave you a look, like he was challenging.

So you kissed him again. And he kissed you back.

“You were right, (name). I do want to leave this damned place,” his eyes were closed as he laced your fingers together.

“I know,” you offer him a small smile, almost proud of yourself for finally being able to decode him after years of knowing each other.

“I think you know me better than I know myself.” This time, he gave your intertwined hands a squeeze (and you squeezed right back).

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Together,” you emphasized, pressing your forehead against his.

He fell asleep in your arms that night, and you stayed.

Aventurine was awoken by the annoying familiar ringtone of his alarm. White Night rang through the still air, and despite it being set on medium volume, it still felt like someone was transmitting the sound through a megaphone right by his ear. Aventurine woke up like this every morning, grumpy and tired with thoughts of the day’s agenda running through his mind nonstop. But before he could reach for his phone and turn off the sound of his nightmares, someone had already beat him to it.

Aventurine’s hands brushed against yours as he groggily opened his eyes. “Name?” he whispered, voice still raspy from sleep (and crying). You were already sitting up, your head resting against the headboard. “Go back to sleep, it’s still pretty early,” you tried getting him to lay back down only for him to sit next to you.

Was it still early? His perception of time was rather inaccurate. There was no such thing as romantic morning sunlight streaming through the window when you’re on a spaceship. But why would he need that when he’s got you?

Aventurine took you by surprise when he leaned in and gave you a slight peck. He pulled away before you could react, eyes darting from your lips to make eye contact with you. “Morning,” he mumbled, pulling away with a smirk before you could react. He held your hand, thumb gently stroking your skin.

“Aventurine,” you started, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“Kakavasha,” he intercepted, “Call me Kakavasha.”

“Kakavasha, what are we?”

“After that stunt you pulled yesterday you’re seriously asking me this?”, Aventurine asked, a judging undertone was clear in his voice. “Should I buy you a planet to make it clear that you’re mine now?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know about a planet, but a proper date sure seems nice,” you teased.

“Consider it done,” he laughed.

You two basked in each other’s morning presence for some time before you speak up again.

“Do you still want to escape?”

“Yes, I do,” Aventurine faced you, a newly found glint of hope in his eyes.

This time, he was smiling.

spring / the lucky charm

“Are you sure about this?” Jade asked, seated at her desk. Your letters of resignation were in her hands as she examined them carefully, almost in a scrutinizing manner.

It had been a few months since that conversation with Aventurine and you two had silently agreed on leaving the IPC for good.

So, after a careful process of tying up some loose ends, you both officially hand in your resignation letters ten minutes ago. Your main reasons? Aventurine had paid off all his debts, so there was no reason for him to stay tied down anymore. When all is said and done, his luck had done more than enough for the organization. On the other hand, you were, for a lack of better terms, getting tired of this place anyway.

The verdict of Jade’s careful deliberation was in. She smiled in acceptance and said, “It seems that you both have moved on to a new chapter of your lives, and I believe it is for the better.” You breathed a sigh of relief before glancing over at your lover. “Yes, I believe our deal is done,” a look of reminiscence coated his eyes as he responded.

Jade was like a mother figure to him, the person who had saved him from the attack on his homeland, the one who had given him a choice. But this corporate asylum had also morphed into a monster. The only thing that managed to keep him afloat was his luck, which had also run dry over the years. The desolate, inhospitable land had used him for all he was worth, stripped him of his joys, his ambitions, his purpose.

The only one who could treasure what was left of him was you.

The Xianzhou Alliance was peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it could be after everything that transpired. But you supposed it was good enough to harbor the two of you for the time being.

The streets were lively and the market was always bustling with activities. Things were definitely different from what you were used to. No longer were the corporate meetings and forced smiles, or those lengthy contracts that took away half your lifespan. It was just you and Aventurine. It was nice.

You admired your intertwined hands, swinging back and forth happily as you two strolled along. The sky shone brightly that morning, illuminating the golden locks on Kakavasha’s head, almost giving him a glowing effect. That seemed to happen a lot these days.

The lively atmosphere, the warmth, your warmth had nursed him back to life. His eyes lit up when he smiled, his lips lifted more often, and his heart seemed to beat just a little bit faster when you rested your head against his chest.

At last, he had found his way back. With you by his side, of course.

Kakavasha,” you called out as light as a feather.

“Hmm?” he turned to you, nearly missing your voice over the chaos and chatter.

“I love you.”

Kakavasha smiled as he grasped your hand even tighter, the matching bands on your fingers glinting underneath the sun’s rays.

At that moment, Kakavasha truly believed that luck was on his side after all.

a/n : (1) i named reader citrine bc according to google it has good synergy with aventurine, (2) i read through this so many times i physically can't anymore so it's kind of badly edited, it's been sitting in my drafts for a YEAR and im TIRED, (3) honestly kind of surprised i managed to complete such a long oneshot but here we are, so enjoy!! (4) original outline based on a vnmese song about loving someone for 4 seasons but things took a turn

tags : @popponn (i told u abt the wip last MONTH and it's finally finished!!!)

masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You squeeze Thor’s hand as you come in sight of the house. It’s a much different scene beneath a clear sky. The wooden pillars carved with geometric designs and the aged siding knotted deeply. It’s beautiful. 

“I hope no one worried about us,” you say. 

“My parents know I can handle a storm. Thought they might doubt if I can handle such a beautiful woman.” He chuckles. You poke him playfully. 

“I’ll have to go back today. My friends will be worried if I don’t call. And I need to check the site.” You sniff. You’re not entirely eager to do any of it. 

“Yes, I foresaw that but can you work in the mud?” He asks as he brings you up to the porch. 

“Sure can, not that it’s any fun.” You sigh. “No, I’ll just need to make sure it’s in tact. I’ll probably need to wait for it to dry out a bit.” 

“Ah, so you won’t be too busy?” He prompts as he stops you at the door. 

“Busy-ish. Why?” You face him. He looks down at you and grins. 

“I do need to go to town. I thought...” He shrugs and looks around. “I haven’t exactly taken you on a proper date. If my mother knew--” 

The door opens as if he summoned her at the very mention. Frigga leans on her crutch as she peers through, her other hand on the door. She smiles. 

“There you are!” She chimes. “We thought you stole our son away to America.” 

“Oh no. No, I wouldn’t,” you turn to her. “We just--” 

“Got lost,” Thor fills in. “Mother, you know how the storms are.” 

“Uh huh. I know how you love to get lost in them.” She chides and backs up. “You two look as if you were caught right in the eye of it.” 

“Mother,” he grumbles. 

“Oh yes, you look worn out,” she tuts as she beckons you inside. There’s a glint in her voice, a suggestion that makes you blush. “Do you know, when he was a child. He had us searching for him for days in one of the storms. All because his father said he couldn’t play outside. Oh, he showed us, didn’t he?” 

Thor lets you go and ushers you in ahead of him. You enter and stay on the mat, your boots still wet and dirty. 

“It was... I was young. Impetuous. And I proved to you I was perfectly fine playing outside,” he counters as he unties his boots. 

“Oh, you were a babbling mess when we found you.” She harrumphs. “Always my baby boy.” She squeezes his shoulder and hums.  

He looks up at her. “Yes, I am.” 

“You take care of him,” she turns her green eyes on you. You flinch. “Yes, I mean it.” She bends to kiss his golden hair as he wrestles his laces. “I love you, baby boy.” 

She stands and rights herself on the crutch. She puts her hand to her chest and looks at you again. You smile nervously. 

She thumps away with her single crutch. Thor puts his boots aside. You sit to take off your own. 

“Thor. She knows.” 

“Of course she does. I wasn’t subtle before.” 

“No, she knows what we did out there,” you whisper. 

He laughs. “Well, it is a part of these things.” 

“I guess but...” 

“I said we could stay out there longer. Do it a few more times.” He winks. 

“Stop," you swat his hand. 

“Oh, I don’t think I can,” he drawls. 

You laugh and shake your head. “You’re going to have to. At least in front of other people.” 

“No promises,” he slings his arm over your shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. In more ways than one.” 

You poke his ribs playfully. “Not even for one second,” you tut. 

❤️ 

It’s hard to go. Not just because of Thor, but because of everything. His family, his home. It makes you miss yours so much more. 

He walks you back down to the site. He talks a lot before you can tear yourself away. Kisses you even more. 

“Call me,” you say. 

“Or you me.” He suggests. 

You drive away. His reluctance feeds into yours. As you come up to the house with the blue siding, you idle in the car before you shut it off. You just want to turn around and stay there forever. Maybe if it wasn’t for the grant money... 

Of course, there’s everything else. Sam and Bucky. Steve. Your parents. It’s just that for the first time in your life, you feel like you found something meant just for you. Not something to long for, to hope for. But really, truly yours. 

Someone where you’re wanted. Someone who wants you. 

You drag yourself inside. You change into your pajamas. No more borrowed clothes. Your old college tee and some loose pajama pants. You cling to the hem of shirt and stare at the hole under the fading logo. 

The smell of your dorm clouds in your nose, the drone of the Top 10 countdown in the background, the feel of paper under your fingertips and the too thin mattress under you. Steve’s eyes shine as he laughs. You laugh too and yet you can’t really see him. He’s all blurry in your mind. 

You exhale and traipse into the bedroom. You sprawl out on the bed and yawn. You let your phone lay on beside your pillow and close your eyes. This is worse than jetlag. It’s a fatigue you don’t know how to cure. 

Your phone vibrates. You groan and reach for it. It’s Sam. You think of ignoring him but he must think that’s what you’ve been doing these last few days. You answer. 

“Hey, Sam,” you hold the phone above you. 

“Oh, is this what you’ve been doing? Laying in the dark hiding from me?” He challenges. 

You scoff. “No.” You sit up and jostle around. You pull the chain on the lamp beside the bed. “I have been stranded on a mountain.” 

“Stranded?” He wonders. 

“You should’ve checked the weather. It stormed. For days.” You say. “I’m just happy to be home. And alive.” 

“Me too,” he agrees. He stares at the screen. He squints. “There’s something else.” 

“Sam. It was a big storm,” you shrug. 

You’re not the best liar. You aren’t really lying, you’re just not telling him everything. You’re not entirely sure why. You don’t want to ruin it. Or maybe if you speak it out loud, it will go away. Yet how long did you not say what you felt out loud. Where did that get you? 

You’re quiet as you flick Sam into the corner of the phone and flip through the apps. You don’t want him to see right through you. 

“You seem pretty relaxed for just surviving the storm of the century,” he mutters. 

You scroll through Insta. You can’t look at him. Even when he’s teeny tiny in the corner. 

“Maybe she got struck. I heard that can rewire your whole system.” Bucky’s voice comes from off-screen. 

“Is that what happened to you? Explains a lot,” Sam chirps. 

“Bucky’s there?” You smile. “Let me say hi.” 

“What? I’m not interesting enough for you?” Sam challenges. 

“You are very interesting, Sam. I just miss him.” 

“Why?” Sam huffs and turns the phone. 

Bucky waves as he leans forward. “Hey. How’s Norway?” 

“Amazing,” you answer without thinking. “It’s… pretty. The landscape. Everything.”

“Mhmm.” Sam hums and turns you back to him. “You’re not telling us something. I can tell.”

“Sam. What am I going to keep from you? The crow bones or the broken medallions I dig up every day,” you challenge. 

You flick your thumb down. The page stops; People You May Know. It’s Peggy. Her profile pic is her and Steve. At some event with lots of flowers. You imagine there’s a lot of those. They look perfectly happy. Without you.

“Hey? Yo? Did this thing cut out?” Sam calls your name.

You snap back and blink at him. “S-sorry, I–”

“What are you looking at?” Sam asks.

“Nothing.” You clear your throat. “What about things there? Are you guys having fun?”

“Sure,” Sam replies as Bucky answers, “no.”

You chuckle. “Oh?”

“He’s just mad about the suit,” Sam snickers.

“Suit?” You wonder.

Bucky grunts.

“For the wedding. Peggy wants this horrible tan theme. It’s awful. Washes old blue eyes out. Doesn’t it, Buck?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky growls.

“He wants black. She’s not budging but neither is he. I said if he wants to be the flower girl, he might be able to get away with something darker. Maybe a purple so dark it looks black.”

“You’re not funny.” Bucky sighs.

“I’m hilarious,” Sam insists. “Trust me when I say you’re not missing out on anything here. It’s all… wedding stuff.” He says those two words carefully.  “Boring.”

“Oh, it sounds horrible.” You chuckle.

“It is,” Bucky intones.

You snort as Sam grins. As you go silent, he tilts the phone. “Look. I’m telling you. Don’t worry about us. Whatever it is you found there. Enjoy it.” He takes a breath. “Fair warning; the invites go live tomorrow.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

“Ah. No biggie. I only called for days to tell you,” he says. “Anyway, I’ll let you recover from the storm. Next time you get lost in one, send me a text.”

❤️

Your pocket vibrates again. You smile at the cashier as you ignore it and pay. You thank her in Norwegian, or your best attempt at it, and take your paper bag. You cradle it in one arm as you head for the door. Your phone starts again.

You answer without looking.

“Hi. I’m out right now.” You say.

“Oh, apologies,” The deep timbre surprises you. You nearly trip.

“Thor? I thought– I thought you were Sam. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, truly. I suppose I was hoping to intrude upon you. Are you terribly busy, then?” He asks.

“No. Just taking my groceries home.”

“Important things,” he says. “And after?”

You bite your cheek. You saw him yesterday when you went up to the site. With the fence between you. He had Thunder and they watched you dig. The rain and the wind did quite the number on the lot.

“Nothing.” You answer cautiously.

“So you would be free? For a date?” He ponders.

You smile as you walk down the pavement. “I guess I could cancel my plans. That crossword puzzle can wait.”

“Dinner?” He says. “Candlelight. Wine. Dessert…”

The way he says the last word makes you tingle. You have to keep from giggling. It’s so exciting and yet you’re so nervous. Why did it have to take you so long to find this? Did you waste all your time? Not just on Steve but those half-hearted flings that just fizzled out, if they ever had any fire to begin with.

“Sounds great. Perfect.” You breathe.

“I’ll be at yours around six?”

“Six,” you confirm, smiling dumbly as you walk along.

❤️

You almost didn’t pack a dress. You didn’t think you’d need it. It’s nothing special. A merlot colour with a bit of ruching. You didn’t bring any heels so the gold flats will have to do.

Hair and makeup. You fumble around as you get ready. You don’t really wear more than mascara and some moisturizer to the site. Mostly just SPF. Thor knows what you look like. Why are you doing all this?

You’re done. You think. You put your things in a purse and pace around the entry way. Now you’re really anxious. You shouldn’t be. Not after all that’s happened. Yet, you are. And that feeds into your nerves, like a snake swallowing its tail. If you’re nervous that means it’s special and it can be ruined.

There’s a knock at the door. You trip over your own toes and collide with the door. You take a breath and steady yourself. You open it. You hope he didn’t hear that.

You open the door and smile at Thor. Your breath rushes out of you as you see him. His hair is half drawn back, combed neatly, not a strand out of place. His beard looks softer and his cheeks tinge with rosy pink. He wears a green-blue button up and a dark blue jacket. He’s done up but not too much.

“You look–” You say at the same time. You both stop and laugh. You fall into a thick silence.

He offers his arm. “Shall we?”

You accept. You step out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door. He walks you down the steps as you hook your arm through his.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“It’s a surprise.” He keeps going.

You pass the fish place and the cafe. Then the grocer. You haven’t seen anywhere around here that you’d dress up for.

He stops you by an archway with a Norwegian word wrought in iron. He takes you through as you shiver. It’s a park?

Ahead, there’s a glow, flickering softly. You let him lead you. You trust him. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you do.

He takes you to a gazebo and patiently guides you up the steps. Inside, there are candles lit around a picnic blanket. Across it, there are covered dishes awaiting you, two stemmed glasses, and a bottle of wine. You gasp.

“I know it isn’t a fancy restaurant. I’m sure in New York–” He begins.

“Are you kidding me? This is awesome,” you say. You turn to him and grip his arm. “Thor, it’s perfect. So perfect.”

He smiles and leans in. You tilt your head up to meet his lips. You kiss in the pulsing light. You’re still waiting for this fairytale to turn tragic.

[cozage]

Hello, can I request for aged up characters x reader. Like them getting hit by a quirk that can age people up temporarily like them being in their 60's or something. Thank youuuuuu.

A/N: I FINALLY DID IT HERE U GO Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Usopp, Law, Ace Cw: Ace’s gets a little suggestive ;) Total word count: 1.2k

A Glimpse of the Future

Zoro

When you entered the kitchen, you were startled to find an older man walking around so casually. An older man with a scarred eye and green hair you knew so well, now slightly streaked with gray. 

“Zoro?!” You asked cautiously, staring at the man. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. His voice was deeper than you remembered, but it was the same voice. 

“What hap-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his swords down and sat on the chair. After a heavy sigh, he finally spoke again. “Got hit by an ability that makes you old. Just a stupid prank from some kid.”

“Is it permanent?” you asked, grabbing the tea kettle off the stove. You had to admit, you liked this look on Zoro. But you were afraid of what it could mean. 

“Should be back to normal in a few hours.” He shook his head and sighed. “Everything aches, dammit. I hate this.”

“You always were an old man in soul,” you teased. You were relieved that he wouldn’t be this way forever, and now you could joke around with him.

“I’m not an old man!” he yelled. 

You had to turn around and pretend to work on your tea to stifle your laugh. He really was sensitive over this. Just like an old man would be.

“Calm down, now,” you soothed, walking over to him with a warm cup for the two of you to share. “Would you like some tea?”

He eyed it, and you could tell he wanted a drink, so you passed it off to him. 

“You don’t look bad, you know.” You ran your fingers through his hair, gently trailing over the new silver streaks. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, taking a drink and humming in delight. “I’m not meant to be this old.”

“Darling, I disagree.” You paused to kiss his cheek. “You were made for your golden years.”

Usopp

“Quick! Y/N! I need you!” An old man who looked shockingly like Usopp grabbed your hand. 

You scowled, pulling away from him. “Who the hell are you?!”

“I’m Usopp from the future!” He yelled, trying to usher you from the deck. “I’ve traveled through space and time just to reach you and give you a warning!”

“What warning?” you asked. You were still cautious, but he did act a lot like the Usopp you knew. The only big difference was the wrinkles and the streaks of gray in his long, tied-back hair. 

“Come with me immediately!” he said. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you! We don’t have much time!”

“Usopp, stop. You’re scaring me.” Why had he not seen you in years? Why did he have such little time with you? None of it made sense. 

Old Usopp grabbed your face, holding you close to him. “On this day, in twenty years…you’re going to disappear right from this very spot!”

“What?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears. “What do you mean?”

“He’s lying to you!” Nami yelled. “He got hit by an ability that makes him old and he’s making it everyone else’s problem!”

Your fear turned to anger, and you shoved Usopp away from you. “That wasn’t funny!” you shouted, wiping a tear from your eye. 

Usopp started cackling. “Oh man, you look terrified! I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That wasn’t funny,” you repeated, still glaring at him. In hindsight, it was kind of humorous. You just wished the prank had been played on someone else. 

Usopp pulled you in for a hug, his soft, weathered lips kissing your temple. “Forgive me?”

“This time,” you giggled slightly from his stray hairs tickling your skin. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Deal,” he said. “Now let's go trick someone else.”

Law

An older man with Law’s exact outfit stormed into your room and rushed to the bathroom. 

“Don’t say anything,” he said. 

“Law?” You cautiously peered around the door frame. 

His expressions and stance were familiar, but he was older. Much older. 

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

You flinched at the sternness in his voice; it was much harsher when mixed with the gruffness of age.

He noticed you in the mirror, wearily standing back and watching him silently. His tone had been extreme, and he knew it. 

He gave a sigh and pulled himself away from the mirror to walk towards you. “I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated about all this.”

You reached up and ran your hand across his hair, the black locks now streaked with white. You smiled to yourself. Even in his old age, Law was still incredibly handsome. 

“You’re old,” you whispered out the sentence, grinning at him. 

Law’s eye twitched, but he said nothing in response. You could tell he was pouting.

“Is it permanent?” you asked, rubbing your finger across his softened skin, now decorated with wrinkles. 

“Should wear off by tomorrow morning,” he grumbled. 

You hummed pleasantly, still examining his weathered face. His sharp, golden eyes were so out of place on a face that old. 

“Well, Trafalgar Law,” you purred, running your hands through his hair and placing a kiss on his lips. “If this is what I have waiting in store for the future, I simply cannot wait.”

Ace

The door to your cabin opened, Ace’s silhouette blocking out the light behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but something felt…off. 

“Don’t freak out,” Ace’s voice was far more husky than you remembered it, and his words sent a jolt of panic through your bones. 

“Ace?” You sat up in the bed, squinting to get a better look. 

“It’s only temporary,” he said. 

“Ace, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You stood out of bed and walked to the door to greet him. 

Yes, something was definitely off. His body was bigger than you remembered, more stocky and muscular. His hair was longer. It was Ace, but it wasn’t the Ace you knew. 

“Something went wrong on the mission, but everyone’s okay. We’re just…”

You couldn't stand it anymore. You turned his body slightly so you could see it in the light. 

“Old!” you exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re old!”

You could see a slight flash of irritation dance across his face, and you giggled. He certainly was attractive, even irritated in his old age. The kind of old man who would yell at kids to stay away from his house one moment and then run to play with them the next.  

“You’re handsome, Portgas D. Ace.” You tucked his long hair behind his ear and ran your thumb across his cheek. 

“You think so?” He gave you a slightly cocky grin, but you could tell he was still self-conscious about it. 

Your eyes trailed down his body, sinful thoughts filling your head. “How long are you like this?”

He shrugged. “Few hours, I think. We can just sleep it off.”

You blushed, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Who says we have to sleep it off?”

Ace’s mouth fell open, and then quickly corrected into a devious grin. “You, my dear, have major daddy issues.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

[rezwrites]

So maybe it is too HORNY of me but hear me out… Pastor! Agatha Harkness x non believer reader where Agatha knows Reader doesn’t believe in heaven and she is going to show you to heaven... smut, dark smut (?)

Never too horny for Pastor!Agatha!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, legal age gap(reader is in her 20s) religious themes, sacrilegious language/situations, allusion to stalking, corporal punishment(spanking w/ a ruler), sadism/madochism, body worship, oral sex(r! receiving) overstimulation, orgasm denial

a/n: Here you go! I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy!

Moving back with your parents after college wasn’t something you’d planned. Giving them the news hurt more than you admitted. It was a major blow to your pride, not to mention the anguish of leaving behind your freedom of living on your own.

Walking around your parents new home was strange; A whole new layout to memorize in a new area. They had moved out of the city and into a smaller community, a few months after you started college, it was hard to keep up with them. Grateful that they had packed up your things from the old house and set up your own room for you; that they had kept you mind. The small community town was nestled between rolling hills, its charming streets lined with quaint houses and colorful gardens.

Sitting down at dinner, you and your parents caught up on each others lives. Your father still has his job in the city, even though the commute is longer now. He recently had gotten promoted, which allowed your mother to leave her job and stay home.

“So, honey, what do you plan on wearing to church tomorrow?” Your mother questioned, her eyes brightened as she awaited an answer.

“Oh…” hesitating, you wrung your hands in your lap, “I actually wasn’t planning on going.”

“Of course you’re going. Don’t be silly. You can consider this another rule while you’re living here.” Your father hadn’t uttered a word, his way of telling you he agrees with your mother. Slumping in your chair you took another bite of your salad, knowing better than to argue with her about this. “Besides I already told the Pastor about you, that you’ve lost your way in life. She’ll help show you the path.”

You aren’t lost, so to speak. College drained you of your savings to where you couldn’t afford to live on your own after you graduated. You just needed a roof over your head until you saved enough, and found a job that put your degree to work.

Your parents were always devout but after moving they, your mother especially, became more religious. Every sparse phone call you’d have with them over the years your mother would find a way to squeeze God into the conversation. Each time you would tell her to stop but she’s stubborn believing she could convert you.

The small wooden church stood proudly amidst a lush green meadow, its weathered facade showing signs of age and history. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees. The sound of birds singing and chirping provided a melodic backdrop, while the warm rays of the sun cast a soft golden glow on the church's worn wooden exterior. As you approached, the rough texture of the splintered wooden doorframe greeted your fingertips, evoking a sense of reverence.

The pastor stood at the altar, a welcoming smile on her face greeting everyone. The heavy, opulent, white and gold adorned chasuble covering almost all of her save her hands; cleric collar peaking out underneath. Sunlight seeped through the ceiling-tall stained glass window, casting an ethereal glow over her.

Your mother ushered you to the fourth row on the left. The hair on the back of your neck stood up feeling eyes on you. Sitting down you look around, a few dozen people filled the sanctuary but no one was looking at you. Your mother hands you a hymnal, asking that you at least follow along.

Listening to the sermon it’s hard not to roll your eyes, but you definitely pay attention to the pastor’s alluring voice. The way her voice commanded all attention on her. All eyes and ears of the congregation clung to each word she spoke, as if she was a prophet herself.

Lithe fingers dancing through the air as she talks, your mind can’t help but wonder to images of her hands on you. When the congregation kneels to pray, your brain conjures the most unholy ways to have Pastor Agatha’s hands on you, taking you apart and putting you back together.

With everyone heads bowed Agatha scanned the room as she spoke. Her azure eyes landing on you next to your parents, the lost little lamb. Your parents had to come to her a week prior pleading her to help set you back on the path of God. She’s happy to help any lost soul find the light, but the moment she saw you trailing in behind your parents something in her shifted.

The pianist plays choral music while each row takes their turn walking up to the altar for communion. Standing up your mother beckons you in front her as the usher approaches your row. Stepping up to the Pastor you felt pressure on your shoulders. The expectation from your mother behind you and the rest of the congregation waiting behind her. “The body of Christ,” the Pastor smiled reassuringly handing you a wafer, her fingertips grazing the back of your hands. She raises the chalice to your lips allowing you to take a sip, announcing, “The blood of Christ.”

The wafer tastes like sweet paper as it dissolves on your tongue mixing with the bitter wine. You did your best to hide the grimace on your face as you walked back to your seat. Continuing with the service time seemed to stretch on to infinity. Beginning to doze off, Agatha raised her hands from the pulpit announcing, “Go with God.”

Confusion on your face as the congregation monotonously, almost robotically repeated back, “As He with you.” Everyone stood up as you shook the daze of tiredness from your mind. Shuffling out the door, the pastor was awaiting everybody outside already.

Your mother placed a hand on the back of your shoulder guiding you in front of her introducing you, “Pastor Agatha, this is our daughter.”

“Ah, yes, I remember. I’m glad to see you’ve joined us today.” Shaking her hand, she covered yours, her hands soft and warm. The close proximity to her again had you speechless, her light floral perfume filling your nose, “Well, the confession box is open every day after daily mass, which ends at twelve. I’m also available should you need anything. Feel free to drop by anytime, dear.”

—

You spent the rest of the day in your room, trying to keep your mind off of Pastor Agatha. Uneasiness settled over you as the day grew on. Tossing and turning all night restless, tiredly blinking as you watched the moon set and the sun rise from your window. Hands flew to your stomach as it growled, craving junk food but your parents didn’t keep that in the house.

Stopping at the door you slipped your shoes on. Your mother lifted her head from her book, questioning, “Where are you heading?”

“Just going to the general store for some snacks. Would you like anything?” You offered, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything you need. “Dad left?”

“Yes, not too long ago. I’m making breakfast soon if you’d like to wait.” With a shake from your head your mother wished you well, returning to her book.

Stepping outside the warmth of the morning sun washed over you. The quick ten-minute walk to the middle of town was tranquil. The pleasant scent of freshly cut timber mingled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread, wafting out from the nearby bakery. The streets slowly begin buzzing with life as everyone bustles off to work or daily routines.

The general stores moderately weathered wooden deck creaked, slightly gave way underneath you. The windows were adorned with faded advertisements, flowing in the gentle breeze. Inside, the cashier was paying attention to whatever local news channel was on. Quitely, you walked through the neatly arranged shelves.

Browsing the chip aisle you couldn’t believe the assortment of flavors this small town had. Some flavors you wouldn’t even be able to find in the biggest markets in the city. Wasabi, braised Pork flavored, bbq lamb just to name a few.

“Quite the appetite, hm?” Clutching three bags on chips in your hands you spun on your heel to find Pastor Agatha standing behind you. Her black clerical shirt tucked into her jean pants. “Allow me to pay for this?”

“Oh, no Pastor. You don’t have to.” Refusing, you clutching the chips close to you.

“Please just call me Agatha, besides It’s just a few things. It’s no problem at all.” Unease pitted your stomach as she took the bags placing them in her basket. You felt like a lost puppy walking behind her around the store as she finished her own shopping.

You didn’t dare look at the total of everything, guilt eating at you for letting her pay for your stuff. Stepping out in front of the store she handed you your bags of chips, “Are you heading back home? You look exhausted, sweetie, be sure get adequate rest.”

“Yes, thank you, pastor. Have a good day.” You didn’t know what it was, but the air around her was becoming suffocating.

Agatha stood watching you scurry away. As you turned the corner behind the bakery she started back towards the church. Placing the bags down by the first row, she kneeled at the altar, the floor creaking beneath her. She prayed for forgiveness for breaking the Tenth Commandment- Thou shalt not covet.

Oh heavens above did she covet, her hand between her slick thighs all night long. Aberrant thoughts of you ran rampant through her mind, your angelic voice tempting her will like a siren out at sea. Lust and Greed sunk their claws deep into her the second her eyes landed you from her spot at the altar. On her knees she begged God to deliver you to her; praying for your attention, affection, your entire being in that instant, she craved you- her lost little lamb.

-

“I think you should go to confession. It’s been a few days since church.” your mother stood at the doorway of your bedroom.

You lifted your head from your book, “But I haven’t done anything to warrant-”

“Just go.” You notice your mother’s hand grasp the door knob. Again, no room for discussion, “Maybe you can talk to the Pastor about the recent sleepless nights you’ve been having.” Huffing you got up, stomping out of the house. You’re a grown-up, you don’t have to do this. You could go sit at the park a few blocks away and say that you went, however your feet kept carrying you the opposite way towards the church.

Walking in the sanctuary, you noticed it was the end of daily mass. Moving off to the side letting people file out of the door, just leaving you and the pastor. Agatha smiled, motioning you over, “Confession, I presume?”

You nodded, subconsciously picking at your fingernails. “Come child. The confessional is in my office.”

“In your office? Why not out in the sanctuary?”eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Confessions are personal. It’s about what’s said between you and the lord.” She led you to the back of the church where her office is. The large grandfather clock along the back wall briefly caught your attention, ticking with each pendulum swing.

“But nobody is here.” You gestured back to the bare pews and the silent sanctuary.

Closing the door she smiles at you pointing to the confessional against the far left wall, “Like I said. Personal.”

Slowly striding to the confessional you took a deep breath. Closing the curtain behind you, you kneeled at the partition, steadying yourself. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have never had a confession.”

“What is your sin, dear child.” Agatha spoke from the other side of the partition. You could see her sitting through the lattice opening.

“I’m not sure. My mother always says it’s because I’m a nonbeliever.” Wiping your hands on your thighs, attempting to quell the rising anxiousness.

“Your mother. But what about you?” Her tone sharp.

“…impure thoughts. For another woman.” A blatant lie. The way you love has never been sinful, your never see it as such.

“Thoughts like?” You can hear the curiosity in Agatha’s voice.

“Her hands on me, wrapping around me; fingers curling inside me. Her marking my neck.” Trying your best to stare at her through the small openings, gauging her reaction.

Lord above give me strength, Agatha thinks, her body tensing. Simultaneously, another part of her is praying you’re talking about her. Nothing but pure elation rushed through her when she saw you step in the door after mass. She can feel your eyes lingering on her, her restraint fading.

Agatha was silent for a moment before she spoke up again, “And you think that’s sinful?”

“No. If we are supposedly each made of Gods image, then why would it be wrong?” you began to challenge.

“Three Hail Marys and…”

You scoffed, “Is there a non prayer alternative?”

Another beat of silence before you heard her door open. She stepped out of the confessional, opening your door. Grabbing your elbow Agatha dragged you to the chalkboard across the room.

“You know, back in the old days Catholic nuns would use corporal punishment. Since you refuse a prayer penance, you will receive a physical one. After all, suffering is next to godliness.” She yanked the bottom half of your dress up, tying it up with a hair-tie, sliding your panties down your legs. “There is no modesty before our Lord.”

Although you wanted to be naked in front of her, you never expected it to be like this. Though you cannot deny the arousal beginning to pool in your core.

The noise of chalk on the board grates against your eardrums. Top of the board right in the center it read: Doleo pro peccatis meis

“What does that mean?” You asked looking back to find Agatha pulling a wooden ruler out from her desk.

“I repent my sins.” She cracked the ruler against her palm, walking back over to you, “One hundred lines written perfectly in cursive Latin, each mistake gets you a lash, little girl.” Her harsh, condescending tone sent another jolt to your core. You did your best to withstand the jarring noise of the chalk as it traveled across the board.

Collapsing to your knees after finishing the line, your ass on fire, legs unwilling to hold you up any longer. Fifty one lines, twenty three lashes- you purposely started making mistakes after the thirteenth line. The stickiness between your legs grew with each hit on your backside, soaking your underwear.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind, Agatha’s shadow looming over you. Casting your gaze up, Agatha had her hands on her hips, shaking her head, “How disappointing you couldn’t finish, but I must admit you lasted longer than I expected.”

Her hands snaked through your hair, craning your head back against her thighs, wiping your tears away with such carefulness. Wincing as your heels of your shoes pushed into your welting ass.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” you whispered. She let out a hum small, a smirk appearing on her face. “May I confess, pastor?”

“Of course, my child.” Her smirk twisted into a smile.

Boldness has never been your forte, but something about this woman makes you want to cast all caution to wind. She cradles your face, keeping your eyes locked with hers as she awaits your confession. Yours eyes burned with desire, “It feels good.”

“Didn’t know the little lamb was a pain slut.” The tips of her nails started to curl under your jaw, “Do I need to beat the sin out of that cunt of yours?”

Your voice dropped turning serious, eager to see how far you could push her, “I’d rather you fuck it out of me, Pastor.”

Agatha’s face dropped as she yanked you to your feet, pushing you against her desk. Caging you in, Agatha’s eyes darkened with lust, her voice low, “You are a snake in the desert.”

Hooking your finger under her clergy collar, you pulled her closer, “Does that mean you can’t resist the temptation?”

She leaned closer to your body, legs locking around her hips keeping her close. “When it’s a heavenly angel like you? Cast me to hottest fire.” She surged forward clashing her lips with yours, rough and uncalculated. Groping your tits through your dress, she pushed you down your back hitting her desk.

Excruciatingly slow and methodical Agatha dragged her lips away from yours, making thier way down to the tips of your shoulders. Appreciative moans left your lips as Agatha trailed along your clavicle, dipping to back your neck. Her deft fingers peeled your dress off your shoulders, her lips gracing the top of your boobs. She mumbled something inaudibly, pressing her face in your breasts. Pulling on her hair you lifted her head from your chest, teasingly asking her to repeat herself. Lust evident in her blown out pupils, “I said, ‘quite the angel.’”

Suddenly dropping to her knees Agatha untangled your panties from your ankles, slipping them into her pocket. Throwing your thighs over her shoulders she kissed your inner thighs, inching closer to your dripping core. Propping yourself on your elbows you watched as Agatha stared intensely at you before diving into your pussy. She lapped carefully through your folds, figuring out what spots make you squirm the most. Arching your back when her lips wrapped around your clit, hands gripping the edge of the desk. Hips canting into her mouth as she pulled you closer, giving a hard suck. She pulled away much to your displeasure, softly kissing your inner thighs, her hands reaching up to rub over stomach.

Agatha wanted nothing more to devour you until you were begging her for release but she reigned herself in, worshipping you like the angel God bestowed upon her. Languidly pressing kisses she traced back to your cunt, tonguing her way through your folds again. Your soft moans were like heaven’s chorus to her ears. Thighs tightened around her ears when she moaned, ego jumping with every praise that fell from your lips.

She stayed on your clit as you quivered beneath her. Sharp sucks melting to easy kisses as she worked you through your orgasm. She broke away allowing you a reprieve. A part of her wished you’d asked for permission but she didn’t dwell too much on it; she has plenty of time to correct your misbehavior.

Agatha attacked your sensitive nub again, using her fingers to tease your slit. It was too much but you couldn’t get enough. Jerking your hips, you pleaded for more. Wrapping your hands in her hair you pulled her closer, the edge approaching quickly. The white light of pleasure behind your eyelids came into view again, warmth flitting across your body. Heaven on earth must be this right here: having Pastor Agatha between your legs, devoting herself to bring you to ecstasy. Eyes screwing shut, you whined with tears brimming your eyes, “gods right there.”

Agatha hastily pulled away, all the sensations ceasing, leaving you high and dry. Chest heaving as you shot up, casting a glare at her.

“Did you think it’d be so easy?” Agatha laughed out, thumbing a tear off your cheek. “God doesn’t reward the undeserving.” You pulled away, hopping down off the desk.

“my underwear?” You tried to look around for them but Agatha kept a firm hand on your hip. She chuckled fixing your dress, smoothing it out.

You turned to her stoned-faced, “I’m not kidding.”

Her laughs died before she put on a stern face of her own. “Lose the attitude.” She lightly swatted you on the butt, hard enough to get her point across, “Maybe if you’re good enough you can have them back tomorrow, after you confess again.”

She walked you out to the church door, hand firmly on your hip the whole way. Seeing you off she considered letting you come again tomorrow, if you actually sleep tonight.