#he only wants to find a way to get out of work and maybe get ghost-unionized

[misstycloud]

Isekai’d yandere x f.reader

We’ve all heard about reader getting isekai’d into another universe and bonding with the characters, but what if it was the opposite and the yandere was isekai’d while reader’s just a background character.

————-

You were the mere daughter of a baron. You were pretty, yes, but nothing to gape in awe at. To summarise, you were nothing special. Then how come the heir of a grand duchy followed you around like a puppy seeking its masters attention? Especially since it was only the day earlier that he smitten with another young miss, who he’d declared with his actions was to become his future fiancée.

Yandere! Noble who suddenly approached you out of nowhere one day. You weren’t friends and had hardly ever spoken; to ask directions or work in pairs, perhaps. He was way too cheery speaking to you. It was completely out of character for him. Where did the normally stoic and unphased young man go? He was certainly not to be found here. No, this man chatted your ear off and did not understand that you wished to be left alone. It didn’t feel very safe anymore when all his admirers glared daggers your way. There was one you were especially afraid of. He was head over heels in love with her before. What has changed? You always saw them together and she was the only one he’d smiled at genuinely. Now he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Yandere! Noble who sought you out whenever he had free time. He wanted to accompany you in breaks between your classes at the academy, he wished to escort you to town and he even showed up outside your estate. His change in behaviour was puzzling, but not as much as the shift in his speech. What were these ‘bruh’, ‘sigma’ and ‘I’m cooked’? You didn’t understand any of it, no matter how much he used it around you. You suppose you were thankful he did turn it down a notch when in others company. You already had a hard time with it, you didn’t think it was necessary for others to suffer as well.

Yandere! Noble who had been shocked when they died and woken up in the world of their favourite romance game. They had read a lot of isekai novels but never once thought the thing was actually real. Wait, if this was their favourite game, then wouldn’t that mean that you were there too? Yes! Maybe they should thank Truck-kun for hitting them on their way to work. This was much better than any ordinary life a citizen could have. At first they thought they’d be stuck in the body of a villain or a side character, but they were pleasantly surprised to find themselves being the male lead of the game. He was rich, noble, influential and devilishly handsome. He had everything.

Yandere! Noble who immediately went to the academy to find you. When playing the game, they never found themselves attracted to the female lead, despite the fact she was modelled after the general population’s preferences. It just didn’t work for them. No, they liked you. Loved you even! It didn’t matter that you were nothing more than a simple background character. You were way better and cuter than any other love interest! You kept to yourself and didn’t have many friends, however you were still very kind and modest. On top of that, you were also an animal lover- exactly like them! The two of you also shared one other interest. They wanted to know if you shared more, but unfortunately the information on you was limited(not created because you’re not important).

Yandere! Noble who wrote an email to the game developers about how they should make extra content that should only feature new information and updates on you. They insist it would sell well(no one except them would buy). Sadly they never got a reply back. Rude ass company. Maybe they should’ve claimed mental health damage because the love interests were bad, so they could sue.

Yandere! Noble who couldn’t care less about the female lead. Unfortunately they got isekaid to at the point of the game where you’d have to enter a relationship with the female lead, that you could break off eventually if you wanted to chase after someone else. And sadly for her, you were the only option. The look on her face was laughable as they told her they could give rats ass about her and how they’ve found someone much better than her in all ways.

Yandere! Noble who then realised they were not bound by any rules. In a lot of isekai the person would have to follow some original rules at least in the beginning, but there was no system or points you needed to collect. They could do whatever they wanted. They had the power, the looks, the wealth and what they wanted was you.

There is no way you’d ever say no to a future grand duke, right?

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[starsofang]

“You’re droolin’.”

You whipped your head over to Kyle, who eyed you from the classroom beside you. You sputtered, quickly covering your mouth while he snickered.

“I am not,” you hissed in warning, risking a glance at the room in front of you and praying the man inside didn’t hear.

“Mm,” Kyle hummed, crossing his arms and watching as his students piled into his class, giving him sweet little ‘hello!’s in greeting. “Don’t know why you haven’t talked to him yet. He’s a nice guy.”

Your eyes drifted over to the classroom across from you, staring at the neighboring teacher who’d captured your heart from the moment you started working at the school.

Mr. Price stood at his desk, speaking with a chatty child and smiling kindly, nodding along as he listened. He paid no mind to you, entirely distracted. It was a wonder if he even knew you taught across from him.

It was a painfully one-sided crush. A silly, childish feeling, one you were sure he’d find strange if he found out about you, the quiet teacher that admired him from five feet across the hall.

“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself,” you sighed, shoulders deflating. One of your students waltzed into your classroom, greeting you cheerfully, so you put on a smile, welcoming them in.

“Ach, you’re just worryin’ for nothin’,” he dismissed lazily. “You’ve gotta talk to him one of these days. How else will you get him to ask you out? Or maybe you’re the one that likes takin’ the reins.”

You threw him a glare and Kyle only snickered some more, dodging the pen you threw his way.

Once your last student arrived, you sighed helplessly, tossing one last look into Mr. Price’s classroom. Your heart yearned to talk to him, but your brain begged you to stay in the shadows.

You felt silly for liking a fellow teacher you’d never formally met, but you couldn’t help it. You’d catch yourself mindlessly watching him across the hall, glimpsing into the open door and melting at the way he treated his students.

He was a large man, brutish and tough, but the way he was with his students was the complete opposite. He was attentive, always giving them his direct focus as not to make them feel unheard. His teaching style was fun, and you often heard his kids laughing boisterously with the activities he had planned for the day.

He was a wonderful teacher, and naturally, the longer you observed, the more your attraction grew.

God, you were hopeless. Hopelessly in love, that is. There’d never be a time where you’d muster up the courage to talk to him.

Forcing yourself to look away, you saluted Kyle, entering the confines of your own classroom and willing away the racing thoughts of the handsome teacher across from you.

The day dragged, and God gave you no mercy with your set of kids together. Whatever had riled up your students to be so hyper had cost you your sanity, and it felt like days until you were giving them all a loving farewell, helping them shrug on their backpacks and watching them leave for the busses so they could head on home and call it quits for the day.

As much as you wanted to join in on going home and collapsing into bed, you stayed behind to catch up on grading papers; which, really, you thought was a waste, considering your students were mere kids.

What grades did they need? They were barely at the age of comprehending ridiculous math equations, or what a mammal was.

Regardless, you set forth to work, flipping through an endless stack of papers until you felt your fingers would fall off.

It was only a couple of hours later when a grueling headache slammed against your temples, causing you to groan in the solitude of your classroom. You needed a coffee. Or a shot. Something.

You decided to go with the coffee for now, forcing yourself out of your chair. When you entered the quiet hallways, you noticed the lights off in Mr. Price’s classroom with no sign of life occupying it.

He must’ve gone home for the day. A pity, really. Another day, another failure.

Kyle was no where to be found, either. Even he wouldn’t be able to save you from your own painful misery.

Slumping in disappointment, you made your way to the break room. The coffee in the school tasted like shit, and you avoiding drinking it as much as possible, but you were desperate. Today hadn’t been very kind to you, and your kids had erupted chaos into your life.

You loved your students, but that shit coffee would be the only thing to get you through until tomorrow, where you’d do it all over again.

Upon entering, you shuffled into the break room with your goal set. However, the moment you noticed a familiar somebody sitting at the break room table, sipping on his own cup, it instantly slipped from your mind, forgotten.

“Oh,” Price breathed, looking up at you. He set his mug down, offering you a smile that had your breath catching in your throat. “Hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anybody was still here. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What were you supposed to say? You’d practiced endlessly on how to talk to him, memorizing a script in your head so you wouldn’t fuck up, but it didn’t entail this. You weren’t prepared!

“I—” You took in a sharp breath, panicking. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, oh god, you looked so stupid—

“You teach across from me, right?” he asked, leaning back in the chair. “I never got to introduce myself. You know how it is with the kids and all, they’re always bouncin’ off the walls, so it’s hard to find the time.”

He cleared his throat, taking another sip of his coffee.

He… noticed you? Sure, it was hard not to, the two of you worked a mere few feet away from each other, but you didn’t know he knew you were there.

Fuck, what do you say? Your tongue felt tied up in a knot. Think.

“It’s okay, Mr. Price,” you said instead, stumbling over your words. “I know the kids get us all caught up.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, unaware you knew his name. If only he knew the extent of it.

“Ah, well I suppose there’s no need for introduction, then,” he laughed, smiling brightly. You felt your knees buckle. “No need to call me Mister, though. You can just call me John.”

You could feel every part of your body warm up. This felt like a fever dream. You desperately needed Kyle to pinch you awake.

“John,” you breathed out, testing the name on your tongue. It was embarrassing how much you enjoyed it. “It’s, ah, nice to formally meet you.”

“Mm, you too,” John said proudly. He stood from his chair, grabbing his cup to empty it into the sink. “I’ve gotta run, it’s gettin’ late. You have a ride home?”

You nodded dumbly, silently cursing yourself for having a working car.

“Right then. See you tomorrow, aye?” He offered another one of those award-winning smiles, bidding you farewell and leaving you in the break room alone.

You didn’t move from your spot, your feet glued to the floor. Your heart pounded erratically, your mind blurring into a fog.

God, you felt like the school girl with a crush, not the teacher. You didn’t realize how deep your crush ran for the man, but now that you’d gotten a glimpse into conversing with him, it festered into you like an aggravating tick.

When two cups of coffee later didn’t help with the burrowing feelings, you decided to give up on grading papers, heading home to try and scrub your mind until tomorrow.

You were more anxious than ever today. You couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting on your feet while your hands wrung nervously behind your back. Kyle eyed you suspiciously from his classroom door beside you, saying nothing as his kids piled into the room.

Your mind was plagued with thoughts of yesterday, replaying over and over the kindness John had given you. You thought that maybe you were overthinking it.

He was simply being generous. After all, Kyle said he was a nice guy, and surely he wouldn’t have just ignored you when you came into the break room. That would’ve been rude, right?

“Good mornin’,” Price greeted you softly, blinding you with his smile that was nearly buried under his facial hair. “Hope you didn’t stay too late last night. Don’t drink too much coffee today, aye?”

You stared bug eyed as he stepped into the comfort of his classroom, greeting his kids enthusiastically while you stood in your doorway like a complete idiot.

“…What the hell was that?” Kyle whispered aggressively, eyes narrowing in on you. He leaned closer to keep as quiet as possible, but you shushed him anyway, begging him to keep his voice down. “You talked to him?”

“Only briefly!” you defended, resolve crumbling. “We ran into each other in the break room last night and he introduced himself. He was being nice.”

“I’m wounded,” Kyle gasped, feigning hurt. He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “You finally talk to the man you have the hots for and you don’t even tell me, your friend.”

You groaned, sinking against your door, sulking. “It was a polite conversation, barely one of substance.”

Kyle tsked, shaking his head. One of his students skipped up to the door, greeting a ‘good morning, Mr. Garrick!’. “You’re hopeless,” he sighed, giving you a lazy wave before entering his classroom.

Frowning to yourself, you watched as your final students filed inside, giving you happy smiles. Oh, to be a kid again. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be so worked up over your coworker. You really did have to hots for him.

You stepped inside your classroom, turning to kick out the door stopper and seal it tight. As you did so, you couldn’t help yourself and you glanced over at Mr. Price’s classroom.

You nearly melted into the ground when you caught his eye, and he gave you a gentle wave, smiling kindly.

Quickly ushering the door shut, you hurried to your desk to hide your embarrassment. As your kids chattered amongst themselves, you took a few moments to mull over your pounding over, begging it to slow.

You didn’t know whether or not you wanted him to go back to not knowing you existed, or to greet you tomorrow morning, then the next. All you knew was that you were completely and utterly fucked.

[soft-persephone]

You know You Love It

MDNI // Explicit!!! // WC: 1.5K// Warnings: slight dom sub dynamics, but not really, somone making you do things you don’t want to do, you know how consent works. I’m not your Momma. // mastierlist

AN:// this was way shorter than I thought it would be.

Real AN://, this fic is heavily inspired by @megamindsecretlair go check out her Terry Fics if you haven’t already. This one is def exist becaue of the recent one she put out based of a request.

Terry was tired.

He had a long day at his new job; he wasn't sure if he cared about it.

How long this would last, he wasn’t sure, but he had a reason to have one now. You were good for it.

He sighed when he saw you in bed, still sleeping. The sheets were rumpled, no corner left unturned from his side to your side. You were currently on your stomach, leg turned up towards your face and your other leg hanging off the side of the bed. Your eyebrows fitfully scrunched together, your lips pulled tight in a frown.

Bad sleep was still sleep, and you needed every bit you could get.

He took a shower, taking his time to wash the frustration of the day off of him.

When he was done, he walked into you now on your side with one hand by your face. Your other guarding your side.

As if hearing the towel pat against the skin, or maybe it was the soft rustle of his t shirt and loose pajama pants sliding along his skin, but your eyes fluttered open.

“T,” you softly called out, your voice thick with sleep, “is that you?”

“Yeah, I just got home.” He sat on your side of the bed, reaching out to touch you wherever was closest. He caressed the skin of your leg. Your skin was always so soft, if not a little warm. Despite only having a tank and the slimmest shorts you could find to keep cool because you can’t stand being hot at night, you were still hot to touch. Somehow, no matter how little clothing you wore, it didn’t work.

You sat up, and moved towards him. Straddling his lap.

“You don’t have to get up. You should sleep.”

“Don’t want to.” Your tone was playfully apathetic. “We can sleep later.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting to not show his frustration. No matter how wide your eyes got, how you batted your eyelashes at him, you were putting on. Always putting on.

You knew when you were irritating him and showing it only made you put on worse.

“What are you doing?” He said even and calmly as he could, hiding the bite in his voice.

You slid down onto your knees in from of him. Your expression soft and innocent.

“You promised.” You batted your eyes up at him.

He kept his gaze even and cool, unwavering.

“Terry.” You pleaded.

“Okay, just. . .” He sighed. . .“okay.”

You flashed your teeth in a smile that was oh so pretty. Your shoulders relaxing into a normal position your eyes fighting their sunken state, showing in the sweetest way just how alive and in it you were.

How could he said no no to that.

Not breaking his firm steady gaze, he pulled himself out of his pants, already half hard.

Despite your sweet face, it was cruel how slowly you dragged your tongue from the base to tip. Tenderly, you massaged the tip with your tongue, lathing the bit of precum before placing small wet kisses on it.

His hips dipped on the bed and his back arched slightly, his dick bobbed against your lips, eager for more.

“Cut-cut that out.” He stammered fighting to keep his voice stern. “Just put it in your mouth.” He managed to scold you.

You ignored him, placing wet kisses down his length, your breath fanning across his sensitive skin with each one. Slow, so terribly slow, you lathe at his balls with your tongue.

“Fuuhck.” He balled his fist at his sides, squeezing the sheets so tight his knuckles were two shades lighter.

He didn’t want to get so loud because that shit only made you worse, but when they were finally wet to your liking, gingerly wrapping your mouth around one, you slid your tongue around it in small circles, not too harsh or too soft, he couldn’t help the low drown out groans that spilled out of his mouth.

You let it go with a pop before moving on to the next one.

He was leaking so much. It was spilling down the sides of his dick, it was dripping from tip.

His balls tightened in your mouth and with a hot gasp you pull off.

“Shit,” your tone too normal and light, like you haven’t been teasing the fuck out of him, “I don’t mean to do that for that long.” You looked up at him like you were sorry. Your long lashes batting up at him apologetically.

His dick stuttered, threatening to bust.

“Fuck you.” He strained out in a wine. His eyes dark and stormy through their just blown gaze.

“Oh. . .” Your eyes went wide before fluttering elsewhere, darting around the room.

You took it too far and now he was upset. You frowned with a pout, but he promised. How can he get so mad if he promised.

Not wasting time, you took him in your mouth, his hips pushing his dick past your lips just as much as you were taking in, desperately thrusting up.

Now that you could set your own pace tonight you didn’t have to take him all the way so soon at the start, you could take your time, jerk the rest of him with your hand, and finally savor the taste of him in your mouth, the smooth velvety skin and the natural musk he exuded from every pore.

You sucked a little harder hollowing your cheeks as you did, eager for more.

“Ah,” he hissed, “wait, fuck. . .baby wait.”

It was too late, he was already filling your mouth.

You spit whatever was left in your mouth and latched back on him.

He roughly pushed at your forehead, making you wince, but the more he did that the harder you sucked his softening dick to keep it in your mouth. His stomach and chest heavily heaved up and down as he breathed in and out.

“Quit. . . Playing.” He strained against gritted teeth, fighting the whimper bubbling up his throat.

You swatted his hands away.

Eventually as you slowly mouthed at his dick, he got hard again and his groans and whimpers subsided.

Satisfied, you moved your head back to let go and sit on top of him. Your pussy wet and desperate to finally have him inside, but a large hand firmly grasped the nape of your neck as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“Where the fuck you think you going?”

He set a hard and brutal pace.

The wet sound of his dick sliding up and down your throat as you whined around him made your pussy ache around nothing. The hair of his base roughly tickling at your nose as his balls slapped occasionally on your chin.

“If you love my dick so much,” he emphasized his point by holding your face against his hips, savoring how your throat clenched and unclenched around him as you choked on him, “why do you keep spitting it out?”

He looked down at you with a smirk, wiping a stray drop of his cumb that leaked from your mouth before shoving it back inside with his dick, pushing just a bit more for you to make a sloppy choked sobb on his dick and finger he pushed inside with it .

“You know how much that hurts my feelings.”

It was Terry’s favorite sick game he liked to play.

The first time you ever sucked his dick, without thinking you just spit it out when you were done, he was taken aback, almost offended. The way his face fell and his eyes dropped was almost cute, big, wide, and cloudy with somber soft gray blue clouds, but it didn’t stay that way. He liked to force you to swallow sometimes, and you never knew when that day would be.

Tonight was one of those times.

His grip on the back of your neck tightened. His hips started to thrust down your throat with as much fervor as his grip on you was shoving you towards him. With a low, drawn huff of a groan, he spilled down your throat. The thick hot spurts of his cum sliding uncomfortably through your body, filling your belly with a particular warmth you weren’t too fond of.

You meweled against his softening dick as the tightening of your muscles released. Your thighs starting to seize and tremble as you came undone, unexpectedly coming in a way you did not want to as well.

“Shh.” He rubbed your face with a thumb as he came down your throat and you spilled around nothing. “You know you like it.” He murmured.

[seungcheorry]

heyy i love ur writing so much and i was wondering that maybe can you please do something like how svt would act in fromt of their members? thank youu and have a nice day hehe

hi, thank you so much for suggesting! i wrote this thinking about how they would act in front of their members when they're in love. hope you have a nice day too. ❤️🍒

seungcheol tries to play it cool so much, but the way he's constantly smiling or how he acts when you call him is enough for his members to tease him. they're happy for him, though.

jeonghan acts like it's no big deal, but if any member asks about you, he'll answer "i'm gonna marry them" in a heartbeat. he just knows better than to give his boys a reason to tease him, you know?

joshua is a cinnamon roll through and through, so he doesn't hide that he's happy and in love. might even let some of his members (dk and boo) say hi to you whenever he calls you. if anyone tries to tease him, he just goes "yeah, so what?".

jun is very discreet, it's not like he doesn't want his brothers to know that he's in love, he's just... private about it? so they definitely only find out after months, but once they do jun makes sure to tell them everything about you (they're just high school girls giggling and kicking their feet atp).

soonyoung couldn't care less how his members see him. yes, he's whipped; yes, he's a simp; no, he can't stay for too long tonight because he promised he would take you out for dinner. are you listening to the members cooing him? can you see how bright his smile is though?

wonwoo is shy when it comes to romantic business, so he's doesn't act a kinda way. his members know better than to tease him, i mean, jeonghan and seungkwan might try to crack a joke just so wonwoo can open up a little about you, but other than that they just know that he's dating because he has this shy, silly smile on his face whenever he's on his phone.

jihoon doesn't have a specific way to act when he's in love. he might be more on his phone and paying less attention to his surroundings, but that also happens when he's really tired from work. he convinces himself that the members won't know that he's in love if he doesn't tell them, but seungcheol and probably soonyoung saw it coming for a long time now.

seokmin is another silly, whipped guy. he can't shut up about you, everything reminds him of you, and that's a whole plate for his members to tease him about it. he may get annoyed sometimes, sulk a little bit, but his brothers know the moment to stop and give him a break - they know seokmin probably better than anyone.

mingyu already gets bullied on a daily basis by his members, so when they know that he's in love that's just another excuse to mock him (lovingly). it's nothing that mingyu can't handle it, so he doesn't actually care when he tells joshua about the date you two had last night and seungkwan overhears and starts to make kiss sounds just to annoy gyu.

minghao isn't big on sharing his romantic feelings with his members, so there's nothing to tease him about it. they will accuse him of hiding that he's in love though, and minghao will literally be like "i'm acting normal, you guys are just dumb" - and tbh? he ain't lying, he really is acting normal.

seungkwan tries sooo hard to play it cool and pretends it's not a big deal, but at the first "how's y/n doing?" vernon shoots him he'll start to run his mouth about you and won't shut up for at least 1 hour. but no, if anyone asks him he is NOT in love and he is NOT a simp 🙄.

vernon is kinda shy to let everyone know that he's in love and in a relationship (shy, not ashamed!!), so he will try to act like nothing is happening. oh, that's no one on the phone, sofia just told him a really good joke, yeah. sorry he can't come to that restaurant with minghao tonight, he's sooo tired, he'll just head home- until seokmin asks him "so... who's the lucky one?" and he goes 🥹 and spills the beans.

chan is a mix of seungcheol and seokmin. at first he tries his best to be the cool, laid-back guy; but when his hyungs start to tease him about his new partner, he's like "you know what? might as well express my feelings", and then he won't shut up about it and any time someone says "oooh he's in love" he will reply "yes, i am 🥺". chan is a loverboy, i'm afraid.

[austinbutlerslovers]

After Hours

Label Mature 18+

One Shot

Summary Things get heated when you lay eyes on your handsome bartender for the night, fueling your need to have him tend you in more ways than one.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 drunken banter •teasing• edging• BJ in a Bar• sex on a bar• protection• orgasm

🏆 Inspired by @austinbutlerfly @feralgodmothers @umika @aust-een 🔥

After Hours

The bar is dim, the kind of low light that makes everyone look better, but Hank doesn’t need any help with that. He stands behind the counter, muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his black tee as he pours shots with practiced ease.

His longer blonde hair peeks out from under his black cap, curling slightly at the ends in a way that suits him naturally.

His eyes, a steely blue, meet yours every so often with a quick flash of something that isn’t just professional courtesy. It’s something intentional, charged in a way that makes the air between you buzz.

Each time he hands over a drink, his strong forearms flex, veins running down his skin, making him look like the kind of man who works with his hands—hands you can’t stop imagining.

He leans in teasingly as he slides another shot your way. “Careful now,” he murmurs, his voice low, “don’t want to get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

It’s not the first time he’s flirted like this, you can tell. The playful smirk, the way his eyes linger a second too long before flitting back to another customer—it’s all second nature to him.

But it works. Damn, does it work. You can feel your body reacting, heating under his gaze, your skin prickling with anticipation every time he gets near.

He leans in close, his forearm brushing yours as he places another drink on the bar, “You really ought to slow down, or I might have to carry you out of here myself,” he says, that same cocky grin on his face, eyes smoldering with barely restrained intent.

You’re tipsy now, maybe more than tipsy, but it only makes the game more fun. His flirting gets heavier, words slipping between drinks with a confidence born from knowing exactly how to read people, how to push the right buttons.

“You gonna make it a habit of coming here just to get my attention?” he quips, flashing a sly grin before turning to serve another patron, but not before his eyes find you again, like he can’t help himself.

By the time he places your last drink on the bar, his hand lingers on the glass just long enough for your fingers to brush against his again.

Flushed and drunk on more than just the liquor, you giggle and grab your phone, tapping the screen for his number. He grins typing it in like it’s the most natural thing in the world before he returns to work, his gaze lingering on you as he moves around the bar.

As the night winds down, you stumble out of the bar and into a waiting taxi, the city lights blurring into streaks as the driver takes you home. Your head spins, and it isn’t just the alcohol.

Hank—his hands, his smirk, the way he looked at you—is all you can think about. You fumble with your keys as you finally make it inside, but something tugs at your mind, like a puzzle piece missing from the night.

Your ID. Where the hell is it?

You search your bag until you swear under your breath, a laugh slipping from your lips as you realize—either you left it at the bar, or maybe, just maybe, Hank kept it.

Without even thinking, you dial his number. It rings, once, twice, before Hank picks up, his voice smooth through the phone.

“Did you miss me already?” he teases, his tone making you grin feeling a rush of heat though your body.

“I think you have my ID,” you reply, the heavy alcohol in your system making your tone playful.

“Oh, I have it,” Hank says, dragging the sentence out like he’s savoring each word. “You’re gonna have to come get it though.”

Something about the way he says it, that low rasp in his voice, makes heat pool in your stomach. You bite your lip, barely hesitating before grabbing your things and heading out again.

The ride back to the bar feels like a blur, the city lights swirling in front of your eyes as you try to keep your excitement—and your balance—in check.

When you arrive back, the bar is dark and looks completely empty. All the shutters are drawn closed, but the windows glow faintly, illuminated by the remnants of the advertisement lights inside and as you pull the handle you realize the doors are completely unlocked.

When you push inside, the familiar smell of whiskey and polished wood hits you as you stumble forward, and your heart races feeling the thrill of the moment mixing with the alcohol swirling in your system.

Hank is already there, waiting for you behind the bar his tall frame leaned casually over the counter, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. Between his fingers, he twirls your ID like a prize, holding it for you to see before gesturing you to come closer.

“You came all the way back for this tonight?” he asks, his voice teasing, his eyes glinting under the dim light.

You’re lighthearted, drunk, and giddy, the heat between you two undeniable now as you step closer, your body buzzing with anticipation.

“Maybe I did,” you reply with a flirty grin.

He lifts his chin, motioning for you to come.

“If you want it,” he says stepping back his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “Come get it.”

You feel your heart race, the playful tension thickening in the air as you step around the bar his eyes tracking your every movement.

There’s an unspoken dare in his gaze in the way he watches you approach, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You’re unable to resist the pull, and when you finally reach him, your fingers stretch out to grab the card.

But just as your fingers brush it, Hank pulls it back just out of reach with his height, his grin widening.

“Not so fast,” he says, his voice dropping lower, a teasing edge in his tone.

You can’t help but notice the way his strength shows with even the smallest movement, making your pulse quicken just a little more.

You grin, nervous and excited, as you reach again, but he quickly tucks your ID behind his back, forcing you to lean in.

“You must really want it” he teases, his voice like velvet, watching you struggle as you reach around him and before you can even realize what’s happening, his free hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His body is firm and unyielding, the heat between you undeniable as he holds you there, your heart racing faster with each second you stay pressed against him looking into his eyes.

In a swift, smooth motion, he turns you, pinning you against the bar. His body presses hard into yours, trapping you against the wood. The heat of him is overwhelming, as he keeps you in place. You can feel every inch of him, and your pulse quickens, your breath catching in your throat.

His movements are slow, deliberate, as he leans in, his lips grazing the curve of your ear.“

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “The way you kept looking at me, like you knew exactly what you’re doing.” His voice is low, rough, and dripping with promise

His words send a rush of desire through you, your body reacting to his closeness the heat for him pooling in your core.

His biceps tense as he grips the counter on either side of you at the bar keeping you firmly in place and his body pushes against you, his lips lowering close to your neck.

You look to him, catching his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes nearly takes your breath away. He’s in complete control, like he’s toying with you, enjoying every second.

But you don’t care. You want him—need him—with a hunger that’s insatiable.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admit, your voice breathy as you press back into him, craving more contact.

“Yeah?” He says as his lips brush your ear again. His hand trails up your side, his fingers just barely grazing the skin beneath your shirt. “How badly?”

Before you can answer, he leans in with his face mere inches from yours and you can feel his breath warm against your lips.

You close the distance in an instant, your lips crashing against his, and it’s like a dam breaking.

He leans in to the kiss, deepening it immediately, his hand sliding up to grasp the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he takes control.

His kiss is intense, full of heat and hunger, and as he presses you harder against him, the energy between you is undeniable.

Your body responds instinctively, hands grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.

His body dominates yours, pushing into you with force as his hands roam and explore, guiding you exactly where he wants you. His lips trail down to your neck, kissing, biting lightly, making you gasp with every touch.

“You want more, don’t you?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. His hand slides down your side, his touch making you shiver. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper as you tilt your head, giving him more access. “Please.”

He grins softly, his lips brushing just below your ear again, sending another wave of heat through your body. “I thought so,” he whispers, his tone playful but commanding, teasing you, pulling you deeper into him. “But I like making you wait for it.” he whispers.

You’re eager, desperate even, hearing those words and his hands tighten on your waist, his hips pressing into you in a way that makes it clear just how much he wants you.

Every second with him so close feels like an eternity, but you can’t get enough, your whole body is aching for more of him.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he whispers, his lips grazing your jaw before he meets your eyes again, the heat in his gaze unmistakable. And when you kiss him again, it’s even more intense, every part of you craving to lose yourself with him so badly.

Your hand slides down, fingers grazing over the hardness beneath his jeans, and you can feel the size of him under your touch. Your breath hitches slightly, and you whimper into his mouth grasping the length cock, wanting to feel it all.

His voice is deep as he grabs your wrist gently but firmly, guiding your hand. “Easy sweetheart,” he says, the words sending a rush through you and with deliberate slowness, he steps back, his eyes never leaving yours.

His hand brushes over your cheek before trailing down your neck.

“On your knees for me,” he says, his voice so commanding, that before you know it, you’re sinking to the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes, eager, desperate for what’s to come.

He takes his time, running his thumb along your lower lip, teasing you as he begins to unbuckle his belt. “So eager,” he whispers, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He watches your hungry gaze as his fingers work the buckle, the click of metal filling the silence around you. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, drawing out the moment just to see you squirm with need.

“You’ve been dying for this, haven’t you?” he asks, his voice low, his tone playful yet filled with dominance.

His jeans loosen as he pulls the zipper down, and you can see the bulge in his boxers even more pronounced now, your body heating up in anticipation.

“I could see it in your eyes all night. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you?” He asks making your heart race even faster.

You nod, your breath catching, eager and almost trembling as he stands before you, watching your every reaction. He slides his hand through your hair, gripping it lightly at the base of your neck, guiding you closer.

“I like how eager you are,” he says, his voice laced with approval, “but you’re going to take your time you understand?”

You look up at him, your eyes wide with desire, and nod again, your lips parting as you wait for him, ready to give him everything he wants.

His hand holds you in place as he lowers the front of his jeans and boxers pulling his large cock free.

He’s thick and much bigger than you expected, the weight of him heavy in his hand as he strokes himself slowly.

His gaze never leaves yours as he releases your neck, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He pulls a magnum condom tearing the wrapper with a flick of his fingers and with a practiced ease he glides the condom down his thick cock.

His size is impressive, and the way he wraps his hand firmly around the base holding it steady makes the moment even more intense.

His eyes darken with desire as his thumb brushes over your lips savoring the softness.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, but the lust in his eyes tells you he already knows what you want and you nod eagerly.

“Open wide for me,” he says, his voice low, dripping with intent as his hand returns to the back of your neck. “Take it slow. I want to feel every inch of that mouth.”

You lean in as he guides you closer, your lips parting around the head of his cock, feeling its smooth warmth as it presses along your tongue. He’s thick and firm, the weight heavy in your eager mouth.

He groans softly, the sound deep and full of satisfaction, his hand remaining steady on the back of your neck, guiding your pace, controlling how much you take in.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice laced with pleasure. “You’re doing so well.”

You move with purpose, taking him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs for balance. Every time his cock fills your mouth, he tightens his grip just enough to keep control. His breath hitches, his hips rolling forward slightly as he watches you work.

“Don’t rush,” he snaps, his voice rougher now. He pulls back slightly, making you pause, savoring the way he slides out your mouth and just when you’re aching for more, he thrusts his cock deeper again, filling your mouth with a delicious intensity.

You love it—the way he commands you, the weight of him on your tongue, the pulse of his need. Every time he pushes in deeper, you’re more eager to please him, your body trembling with excitement.

You can feel the tension building in him as you suck him harder, taking him deeper into your mouth, your saliva coating his cock, making it warm and slick.

“Just like that,” he groans, his hand tightening in your hair, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re so good at this. You know exactly what I like, don’t you?”

His praise sends a thrill through you, driving you to take him deeper, to give him everything he wants.

You quicken your pace, encouraged by his words and his hand stays on you, guiding you, pushing you as he groans through gritted teeth, the need for release becoming undeniable.

His hips start moving in rhythm with your mouth as his breaths grows more ragged, and you can tell he’s starting to lose control.

“Fuck… you’re so good,” he pants, his voice thick with need as his control slips further. “Just keep going. …Keep going just like that…” he pants.

You keep at it, your mouth gliding along his cock with precision, pushing him closer to the edge with every second.

His cock twitches in your mouth, and you relax your throat moaning in anticipation wanting more, wanting him to come.

You can hear his breath quicken and feel the tension building in his body. Just as you think he’s about to let go, he suddenly pulls out, releasing his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting you to your lips.

He grips your hair tighter, keeping you in place as he watches you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So close,” he breathes, his voice laced with both control and amusement.

You can see the desire in his eyes, an enjoyment in making you wait, in holding back just a little longer. He brushes his thumb across your swollen lips clearing the saliva as he savors the sight of you beneath him.

There’s a look of satisfaction in his eyes, dark and intense, as he reaches down to help you to your feet. His touch is steady, as he guides you. He keeps a hand on your waist, pulling you close, his breath warm against your ear as he leans in.

“You’ll get what you want,” he says with a grin, his voice low and filled with intent.

His grip tightens on your waist as he smoothly turns you around, pulling your back against his chest. His lips brush just below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Now bend over for me,” he says, his tone laced with authority, the command making your pulse quicken.

There’s no hesitation in your response as you lean forward, your hands bracing against the smooth wood of the bar your chest presses into the cool surface.

His hands slide down your hips, possessive and firm, pulling you back against him just enough to make you want more.

Your pulse quickens, the need for him growing uncontrollably as your hands instinctively reach back, lifting your skirt, offering yourself to him without a word.

“Look at you,” he grins, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You’ve been wanting this ever since you walked into the bar haven’t you?”

His words hit you like a wave, stoking the fire already burning inside, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as your face flushes with heat.

Every glance, every touch, every word has been building to this inevitable moment, something you’ve craved since the first instant his eyes met yours.

You nod, feeling every part of you ache for him, your body responding to his touch as his hand trails down to your lower back holding you firmly in place as he presses you against the bar.

“I know how badly you want this,” He says as you feel him brush his cock against your inner thighs, the weight of it heavy with every movement.

The teasing contact, as it slips against your soft skin, has you trembling, your breath hitching with every near touch, the anticipation driving you mad with need, knowing that at any moment he will finally give you what you crave.

"And you've been so patient for me," he praises, his voice laced with satisfaction as he steps back his hand sliding lower, pulling your panties down, leaving you completely exposed and desperate for him.

His fingers brush over your skin, soft and deliberate, sending a shock of pleasure through your core as his hand trails down, finally reaching the heat between your thighs.

You softly moan as his fingers graze lightly against you and a low groan of appreciation escapes his lips, feeling how wet you are for him.

“You’re absolutely soaked,” he says, his laden with satisfaction, the teasing edge in his words making you exhale as you shiver.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he promises, and his words are like fuel to the fire inside you, igniting every inch of your body. His hands return to your waist, gripping firmly as he pulls you against him. Your breath hitching as you feel the firm heat of his cock pressing your entrance and with a firm deliberate thrust he finally gives you exactly what you’ve been aching for.

His cock stretches you inch by inch until its deep inside, his hips pressing firmly against yours, filling you completely. The weight of his size makes moans spill from your lips as you grip the bar in front of you.

He sets a hard, commanding pace, each thrust making your body tremble as his hips snap against you. “You like this, don’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark with satisfaction as the intensity of his cock renders you speechless.

Your body is overwhelmed as soft whimpers and moans escape your lips, the pleasure washing over you in waves as each of his hard thrusts pushes you over your limit.

“I can tell by those little sounds you’re making,” he praises, his voice rough as he keeps driving into you, each thrust deliberate and forceful. His grip on your hips tightening as he presses harder, guiding your body in sync with his, making you moan and whimper louder with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every little sound you make.” His words send another rush of pleasure through you, and his hips begin clapping against yours, jolting you forward with the force of his thrusts.

The world around you blurs as your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The tightness inside you builds, almost unbearable, the pleasure climbing higher with every firm stroke.

“Taking this cock so well,” he praises, his voice filled with raw admiration, as he continues to push deeper and drive into you harder.

You can’t help the moans and gasps that slip out, with your body completely at his mercy and his hand slides up to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, tugging it tight.

The pull on your scalp makes you gasp, forcing your head up, and you find yourself staring at the bar mirror across the room in front of you, watching the way your body moves against him.

The sight is almost too much, the tension building in your core as he takes control, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“Watch,” he says, his voice rough and commanding. “I want you to see how perfect you are when I’m inside you.”

You can only moan in response, your body clenching around him as he picks up the pace his hips snapping against yours with raw, desperate intensity.

The world around you begins to blur again as your heart pounds in your chest. You core throbs with anticipation as your breath comes in shallow gasps. Your pulse begins thundering in your ears, as the tightness inside you builds to an almost unbearable peak.

His hand releases his grip firm your hair and slides up to your chin, tilting your face toward the mirror in front of you. “Look at yourself,” he whispers roughly in your ear. “Look how good you’re taking me.”

Your gaze locks with his through the mirror, the reflection capturing the raw intensity of the moment as moans spill from your lips. Your breasts bounce with each of his powerful thrusts, your hips meeting his in a rhythm as his body collides against yours, sending shockwaves through your core.

His eyes are locked on yours, dark with lust, watching your every reaction. His cock filling you deeper,thrusting harder as your moans grow higher in pitch

He groans through gritted teeth, his voice strained as he drives into you. “You feel so good,” he pants, his voice thick with desire. “I’m gonna come… you want that, don’t you?” he asks, his breaths ragged, filled with urgency

Your eyes flick to the mirror again, seeing the way your bodies move together and the way he dominates you from behind makes your orgasm build even faster, pushing you closer to the edge with every thrust and you nod to him as you moan.

“Keep taking me…-just like this until I come” He rasps as his thrusts become rougher, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room as he chases his release.

You watch your reflection as you moan desperately, your body arching back into him.

His thrusts are relentless, each one sending shockwaves through you, the impact driving you to the edge. Your muscles spasm uncontrollably as the tension in your core snaps, your orgasm hitting you with a force that makes your vision blur. Your walls clench down hard on his cock, gripping him tightly as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you gasping

He groans and his eyes lock onto yours in the mirror “I’m gonna come,” he pants, his voice rough with pleasure as he buries himself deep into your walls. His cock is throbbing as he spills himself completely inside of you the heat of his release makes you clench around him again as you moan in pleasure.

His grip tightens on you as he rides out the waves of pleasure, his breaths ragged as his hips move slowly, savoring every second until he’s finally, spent and satisfied.

You’re both left breathless and trembling as he slowly pulls out of you. The sudden loss of his fullness makes you shiver, and he steps back slightly, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a satisfied grin, watching as you pull your panties back up and smooth your skirt down.

You hear the soft snap of him removing his condom, and when you turn, he’s buckling his jeans, that same cocky grin still playing on his lips as his gaze meets yours, filled with satisfaction and pride, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s had on you.

He casually reaches for something on the bar and holds it out to you and you look down smiling to see your ID, between his fingers

He twirls the card, then holds it steady just as you take it from his hand with a smile.

“Thanks,” you say, turning to leave, but before you can even take a step, he grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. His grip is firm but teasing, his voice low as he says, “You think you’re walking out of here that easily?”

You raise an eyebrow, the heat between you undeniable. “What, you’re not done with me yet?” you tease trying to play it cool even though you both know there’s a secret bond that’s formed between you.

He smirks, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Not even close,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. “In fact” he says pulling you in closer “ We need to do this again tomorrow,” he says with a satisfied grin.

You pause, pretending to think it over. “Tomorrow?” you say, tapping your chin playfully

He leans in just enough for his lips to brush near your ear, his voice a low, tempting whisper. “Trust me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin, “by tomorrow, you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

You meet his eyes, and the heat between you is undeniable. Slowly, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that reignites the fire inside you, leaving you wanting him all over again. Just as you give in, he pulls back, his control clear in every move.

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on your lips before a smirk spreads across his face. “Tomorrow then,” he confirms, his voice low and full of promise, and you readily nod, excitement coursing through you.

You step back, breaking the contact, but his fingers linger on your wrist for just a second longer, enough to leave you aching for more before he lets you go.

As you head toward the door, you glance over your shoulder, catching his gaze one last time. He leans casually against the bar, his eyes locked on you, the same confident smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t keep me waiting when I call,” he says his tone playful but firm.

You flash him a smile as you push the handle,“I won’t ,” you reply as he takes one final look at you, then you push the door as you step outside.

The night air hits your skin, but it does nothing to cool the excitement building inside as you breathe in deeply, trying to steady your pulse, but it’s no use—your mind is consumed by Hank.

The way he looks at you, the way he satisfies you, the teasing promise in his voice—it’s all you can think about.

A small, knowing smile tugs at your lips as you hail a cab, your thoughts entirely wrapped up in him. There’s no question in your mind—you’ll be back, and tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

🧢 End

🔗 Master List

🏷️ Always Tags Me List

@purejasmine @faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya

[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Monster Fucker Concepts

Not a yandere monster. A yandere monster fucker with a darling monster.

Yandere Royal that gets kidnapped by the big snarling dragon. Only to become obsessed with you and not wanting to be saved. Anytime the hero comes, they alert their big dragon love. Watching as you burn the royal's armies to a crisp. They just want a happy little future between them, you, and your children. Don't question them, they will find a way.

Yandere Cult Leader and their eldritch god. They found you when they were at their lowest and viewed you as their saviour. They know that you're not a "good god", it's hard to hold that belief after sacrificing human life to you, but they don't care. They'll sacrifice countless cultists to you if it means that they can be in your good graces. They can't wait for you to finally arrive into their world, you'll destroy everything in your path and create your paradise. And maybe if they pray enough you'll make them your spouse. Or your pet. They'll take either at this point.

Yandere Pirate that unknowingly enters siren territory while sailing with his crew. Crashing into the rocks, leaving them stranded on the damaged ship. Despite trying to fight off the alluring melody, one by one his men begin to jump off the side into the water to be ripped apart by the monsters. Until finally the captain falls victim too, jumping into the water and feeling themself submerge. Only to be met face to face with the siren that had led them here, but they're beautiful, more beautiful then anyone the captain had seen. Their arms outstretched as if to embrace them. But at that moment, the captain was pulled out of the water by another ship of men. They crew quickly covering his ears before he could hear the song again. Able to read the men's lips as they explained that they were headed back to land. But all the captain could focus on was the beast he had just seen, and just how badly he wanted to jump in again.

Yandere Villain that works alongside a vast array of monsters, but only one catches their eye. One of the small kobolds that they had recruited. From the looks of it, they appeared to be the leader of their little group. They were actually starting to think that those kobolds didn't even listen to them, just their little leader. Which was less then ideal, that disloyalty would just make a coup easier to perform. So the villain needed to get closer to the reptilian leader, if they could get closer to them, than maybe they could redirect that loyalty towards themself. But they were cought off guard by the scrappy little thing, they weren't the brightest but they were very cunning. Having set traps all over the villain's lair in case any wannabe heros showed up. And they seemed to have memorized the villain's plans and were already getting their army in on it. Before they even knew it, the villain finally understood why the other Kobolds picked this one to be their leader. And suddenly the little reptiles didn't seem to dispossable.

I have a lot of yandere ideas but I'm too lazy to write them all. So I'm thinking of posting more concepts like this so I can post more often. It was much easier to write for me.

Also I tried to keep both the yandere and the reader gender nuetral. Which was easier said then done. So if this makes no sense, I'm sorry. I tried to make it work.

[aviiarie]

cws & notes: reader (and kaveh) are VERY implied to be aromantic or on the aromantic spectrum. mentions of kissing. lots of platonic affection. platonic kaveh & gn!reader. 1.1k words. wrote this for myself tbh

“So are you two dating?”

You wish you could say it's the first time you've heard the question. And you wish you could bring yourself to be annoyed about hearing it again, but you know there's no malice or spite in the words. Only a polite sort of curiousity, unaware of the way your stomach turns at the thought.

And maybe you wish you could tell Nilou 'no, we're not, why would you think that?' but you know your hand is intertwined with his, and his knee is touching yours, and you have his cheek leaning against the top of your head. You know how it looks, but that never mattered. It felt comfortable, like you fit together just right. Affectionate, with no strings attached.

That was the part that no one seemed to get. You and him were at an understanding that seemed to make sense to no one but yourselves; the squeezing hugs, and nicknames, and nights spent staying up until 3am didn't mean a thing. When you fell asleep on his shoulder, when he chastely kissed you goodbye before leaving on a work trip, it wasn't because you both harboured a secret love you were too shy to say out loud.

You adored him, of course. He was your best friend. But that was it; no strings.

There were always those who couldn't wrap their heads around the thought, the ones who insisted that they had to be at least into each other a little bit. So much time spent being friends, such closeness had to speak to a blossoming romance that just hadn't quiet bloomed yet, right?

What they didn't know was you had tried, your senior year at the Akademiya. It was after all of the comments about how odd it was that they were so close without being a couple finally started to get to them. During a party hosted by a classmate you don't remember the name of, when the teasing and jabs had gotten a little too much, you had found him taking a breather out on the front steps.

Conversation came easily, comfort came quietly, and soon the topic shifted to what people were saying. It was always talk, rumours, gossip. But he could see how they were weighing on you. He could see the look of doubt in your eyes, wondering if this was something you were supposed to want.

If you can't bring yourself to fall for the most important person in your life, then what was wrong with you? Was love a prize that you were never going to win, a lock that you're never going to find the key for?

“Will you kiss me?” You blurted out, and his eyebrows raise. “J-Just once. I just... everyone keeps telling me I'm supposed to like you, and you're supposed to like me, but I just...”

“You want to see?” Kaveh asked hesitantly. You swallow, and nod. “I don't want to do something you don't want to do.”

“I want to. Please, I... I don't want to ask anyone else.” You paused, before quietly adding on, “If there's truly something wrong with me, I want to know now.”

The pinch between Kaveh's eyebrows deepened, but there was a flicker of vulnerability behind his eyes. Some part of him was flashing with the same fear, wondering if there was something wrong with him too, all because he couldn't muster up enough emotion to see you in a romantic light.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his. There was a pause, before he met your lips in an awkward kiss. There were no sparks that crackled against your mouth, no butterflies in your stomach. It was a unpleasant clashing of teeth together, with your cracked lips pressing against his soft ones for a second too long.

You pull away, face flushed with embarrassment more than anything. “I... I don't think I want to do that again.”

“Me neither.” Kaveh grimaced. He sighed, leaning back to give you a bit more space. “Why do you worry so much about what they say?”

“Because! I'm supposed to enjoy it, aren't I?” There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't care. If there was one person you could cry around, it was him. “What is wrong with me? Why can't I even fake it?”

“You don't need to!” Kaveh said quickly. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe... maybe some people just don't like that sort of love. I know I sure don't, and I've known you long enough to figure out you don't either. We don't have to be a couple to care about each other, right?”

You stared at him, slightly dazed. “...I guess not.”

And since that night, you've never been able to forget his words, and the way he said them. It was like your world got shifted around, and nothing seemed quite the same. All the stress about love, all the worry about whether people thought you were a couple seemed so insignificant all of a sudden.

Yet, your new lighter worldview never stopped that burning question, that followed the pair of you like a shadow.

“So, are you two dating?”

The question echoes in your head, sounding over and over. Nilou is still staring at you, waiting for an answer, although her gaze occasionally flicks to your linked hands resting on his lap.

“We're just friends,” Kaveh responds smoothly. He lets go of your hand long enough to wave away the question, laughing lightly. “Honestly, the amount of times I've been asked that...”

“O-Oh!” Nilou's eyes widen, and her cheeks turn pink. Part of you feels bad for making her look so flustered, but the uncomfortable twist in your gut reminds you that it was her question that started it in the first place. “I didn't mean to assume... you just look so close!”

“We are.” He smiles gently. “But I can assure you we are very happy as friends. Neither of us are interested in that sort of relationship, much less with each other.”

She nods, as if she understands, but there's still confusion behind her expression.

It didn't matter. People didn't have to get what was so special about the two of you. They didn't have to understand what you had, and what you lacked, and why it didn't make much of a difference at all.

You were friends, best friends. And that was plenty enough love for the both of you.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[chleem]

Flashing lights #1

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter two out soon! index

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Late February 2024

Is that five, or six bottles in front of you? 

Your vision is burry, head feeling twisted, and your limbs feel as if they weight a hundred kilograms each. “Shit,” you curse, your hands reaching over to your bag. 

In attempt to reach it without standing up, you fall, and you laugh. Alcohol was able to make that fall feel painless. Getting up however, felt like the hardest task ever, but you manage, and you rummage through your bag for your pack of cigarettes. 

You find it; but no cigarettes to be found in it. 

“Fuck!” You yell, throwing your empty pack across the trailer. Good thing your makeup staffs gone, and no one to see your about-to-erupt tantrum. Reaching for your phone, you call your manager, Laura, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Wow. What are managers even for? 

Gotta do everything by yourself. You throw your phone onto the couch, and walk out of your trailer. You didn’t care whether anyone saw you; you just cared about getting a smoke. 

The afternoon sun is blinding to you, the effects of alcohol making it even more unbearable. Is there a convenience store around? Fuck, maybe you should just ask the staff for a smoke. 

You keep walking along the other trailers, feeling some eyes on you. Well, usually at a filming set everyone is busy with their own business, but you’re Y/n. You grab attention by simply breathing. Others might love it, but growing up in showbiz, you just wish to get away from it. Even if just for a second, you would love to be an invisible person. 

You keep walking, hoping to spot anyone with a cigarette in their hands. But your legs beg to stop, and you feel extra dizzy when you bump into a hard…wall? Well, it was hard, but soft at the same time. 

Warm hands wrap around your waist just as you’re ready to fall onto the ground. Even your drunken state knows that you should be clinging onto something if you’re about to fall, and in this case, you were holding onto the person’s biceps. 

You look up, feeling as if this person was 200 centimeters. Shit. He’s tall. 

His hat is low, but you could see blue circles staring down at you, and although his face was attractive, his expression was mean. As if wanting to murder you. Well, he probably does, since a stranger fell into him. 

“You-“

His cologne hits you, and the urge to throw up hits. 

Vomit splatters on his entire shirt, and just like that, you pass out, still in his arms. 

——

Woah. Even getting up slowly triggers the muscles in your brain. 

You blink a few times, adjusting to the lights in your trailer. What time was it? Did you already finish filming? A million questions enter your head as you look around you, and you notice the five large empty liquor bottles on the table. 

Right. No memory whatsoever. 

A wet towel is on your forehead. Weird, you think, as you throw it to the side. 

But then you hear the trailer’s bathroom door open, and you immediately feel uneasy. Who the fuck could be in here other than you? 

The stranger walks out, and he’s half naked. 

And attractive. 

But he’s half naked! 

You quickly check yourself, and yes, you’re still in your clothes. 

“Who… who the fuck are you?” You say, feeling really unsafe right now. You had no gun, no weapon of any kind, and you were terrified. This stranger was extremely fit and tall, and he was standing just a few feet away from you. 

He’s staring at you with his blue eyes, and honestly, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is he gonna kill you? Rape you? 

“You have no idea who I am?”

“Yes, you fucking creep. Get out of my trailer before I yell,” you threaten. 

His eyebrows furrow as if you were in the wrong, and he crosses his arms, leaning against your vanity across from you. Woah. His arms. It looks very delicious-

What. “Seriously. Get the fuck out,” you point over to your trailer door. 

He throws his head back, an annoyed groan escaping him. 

What’s his problem? You think, eyebrows furrowed. Okay. That uneasiness, has transformed into anger. “Fuck- get the fuck out, your weirdo. I’m…you know what, I’m calling the fucking cops.”

You look around for your phone, but see it charging on the vanity beside him. 

“Drew Starkey,” he finally says, and you look at him, confusingly. Never in your life have you ever heard that name. Were you even suppose to remember or know this person? He groans again, not even hiding his annoyance at you. “Wow. You’re such a bitch, you know that?”

The audacity- “you’re in my fucking trailer right now. You’re in the faults here. You can’t come in half naked, and act annoyed at me. You fucking cunt-“

The door to your trailer opens, and you squint at the light coming in. 

It was your manager Laura, and she’s holding a bottle of water, a pack of cigarettes, and a folded t-shirt. 

“Laura! A fucking pervert in my trailer-“

“Here you go, Drew. Again, so sorry,” Laura ignores you, handing the man, who apparently, is called Drew, the clean t-shirt. The name he just told you, it was his name? Why did he act so offended earlier, when he said it? Is he like some kind of, celebrity? Impossible; you've met almost all the top actors in showbiz, you would've known him.

“What the fuck,” you voice out, chuckling to get the anger and confusion out of you. You watch as the stranger puts the shirt on, enjoying the way his muscles flex and relaxes is… kind of arousing. But you pull away, feeling embarrassed and egoistic to admit you’re attracted to this rude stranger. 

Laura comes near you, placing the cigarettes and water on the table and sniffs you. “Yeah, you’re still a bit tipsy,” she comments, before grabbing perfume and mints from your bag and sitting down. “Can you still film?”

“What time is it?” You ask, while grabbing the pack and lighting a cigarette up. You breathe it in, and smoke out, immediately feeling more relaxed and in your element. 

“4:20.”

“What time was I suppose to be there?” You giggle, breathing in your cigarette. Oh, it felt so good to smoke. All the energy booster you needed. 

“2:30,” Laura says, sighing. 

“Oh shit,” you laugh, putting the cigarette between your lips. You forcefully spray the perfume on you, knowing the cigarette is probably going to cover the smell anyways. You take another blow of the cigarette, before putting it into Laura’s mouth. She groans angrily at you, and you just chuckle, looking over to the stranger now. He’s not shirtless anymore, and has a hat on. He’s staring at you, with a mean expression now. “What are you still doing here?” You rudely state. 

“Y/n, he’s gonna be here for a long time,” Laura replies instead, and you turn around to her. You look at her with furrowed eyebrows, confused by what she meant. Laura also stares at you with an amused expression. “What, you guys didn't talk?”

You frustratedly throw your arms around and stomp your foot. “What am I supposed to talk about to a half naked guy in my trailer? Laura, use your fucking brain.” 

You turn around and the stranger is now sitting on the couch. You ignore him, turning back to Laura. “Is he my new manager or something? Laura, who the fuck is this?”

“Drew Starkey. You honestly don’t remember him?”

“Am I suppose to?” You reply, reaching for the pack of cigarettes, hoping to bring it with you to set. But ‘Drew’ stops you, his hand, which is surprisingly very warm, wraps around your wrist to stop you. You glare at him, telling him with your eyes to get his hands off you. But he doesn’t. So you verbally express it to him. “Get your fucking hand off me or I’ll chop it off for you.”

“You can’t even walk in a straight line, Y/n.”

Annoyed, you yell, “Get your fucking hand off me."

He does, but he quickly grabs the pack out of your reach, stuffing it into his pocket. Wow. What a jackass. And who is he to care? To take away your stuff? You pray that he gets explosive diarrhea the whole day tomorrow. This asshole deserves it. 

“Whatever,” you say, walking over to the door of your trailer. And he’s right, because you trip over yourself on the way there. You laugh under your breath out of frustration and embarrassment, and turn back around, pointing at ‘Drew’ and looking at Laura. “Get this jackass out my trailer. I don’t care what he is, he better be out of my sight.”

You don’t even bother hearing what her response is, and you leave towards your set. Now, you’re in a worse mood than before. All thanks to the stranger named Drew.

——

Everyone knew you were a good actor. You’re one of the best. And to make it even more astonishing, you’re only 25 years old. Meaning, your acting could get better. But it’s already the best of the best. Maybe its your pure gift, or maybe because you’ve been doing this since you were 13. Either way, you were a fucking good actor. 

The director specifically appointed you to star in his film, which is about the world coming to an end. Director Ravens was quite famous in showbiz, so who were you to decline? Besides, your co-star was Hugh Jackman, a brilliant actor, who you've also grown to admire while filming. 

Your character was a girl in her twenties, who had fallen in love with a stranger despite knowing that the world was getting destroyed within a week. A tragic love story, yet it was beautiful. 

This scene, is your solo one. Your character finds out her brother is dead, and cries with feelings of sadness, regret, and happiness. It’s a scene that would be hard to portray, but you do it well. 

Although you were almost three hours late to set, you make up for it with your acting. One take and the director informs you that it's perfect. And no one disagrees, and the complaints about your tardiness disappears, once they rewatch the scene. You must still be tipsy, because you swear you saw some of the staff shed a tear. 

You don’t offer to watch or reshot the scene, since you wanted to be out of here as soon as possible. But director Ravens insists on another one, hoping to get it from another angle. And you do as he pleases, since, well, he’s the director. 

Wow. One of the most important scenes in the movie only took you twenty minutes to film. 

Director Ravens gives you a break before the next scene, and you walk off before he wants to give you compliments. You didn’t need to hear what you already knew. 

But as you walk over to your seat, someone already occupies it. Drew. 

“You’re still here?” You scoff, crossing your arms. 

You want to rip his blue eyes out to get him to stop staring at you. Why does he like to stare at you so much? 

He pulls a random chair close to him, perhaps wanting you to sit. “Wow. So you can remember faces.”

“Yeah, if they’re as ugly as you,” you lie, because, his face is so damn attractive, that you can’t forget it even if you wanted to. You sit down on the chair, looking ahead of you. “I thought I said I want you out of my sight?”

“You can’t decide that,” he replies. “Who are you to order me around?”

“And who are you to sit in my chair? If anything, you should be kissing my ass right now.”

“Why should I?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” You scoff. “Look around; that’s what everyone else is doing.”

On cue, a staff member hands you a bottle of water, and you take it without saying thanks. 

“And they’re fucking idiots,” Drew says, and you turn to look at him. He’s still staring at you! Crazy. 

“Shut up. As if you didn’t enjoy the show,” you say, referring to your acting just then.

“I did.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust, “good thing you’re not an actor. You’re horrible at lying.”

“I am.”

‘’What? A liar?”

“No; I’m an actor.”

The fuck? Suddenly, a different staff member interrupts the conversation, a girl holding her phone out to the both of you.

“Can I take a selfie with you?” She shyly asks. 

Of course it’s directed to you, so you simply reject her. “Sorry, but-“

“Yeah, sure.”

Your jaw is probably on the floor right now. The girl wasn’t asking you; she was asking Drew. He stands up and takes a selfie with her, and then hugs her goodbye. 

So… he’s famous? No way, because you’ve never heard of him you entire life. Probably a newbie that got famous by luck. 

You look away from him once he sits down, embarrassed to even face him. You just thought he was some staff member that the company had assigned to serve you. But he’s actually an actor? 

“You were saying?” His deep voice interrupts your thoughts, and you feel your ears go red. Holy shit. You need a smoke real bad right now. Fuck that, you need some liquor in you right this instant. 

Director Ravens saves you, yelling that its time for the next scene. So, you hurry and throw the water bottle at Drew, who catches it as though he’s not surprised at all. 

And he smirks, lifting his hat a bit as if to get a better look up at you. “What’s this for?”

Flustered, you walk off without another look back, partly embarrassed and angry. And you busy yourself with getting into the emotions of the character, and soon, Drew is forgotten as if he never existed. 

-------------------------------

word count: 2.3k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: so...what's your impression of y/n so far?

hope you enjoyed chapter one, i had a blast writing this...although, chapter four was the funniest one yet. btw, i am not joking when i wrote slow burn in the warnings, so pls be patient! and i setted this story to start in february, to match the time of real life events. other than that, rest are fictional!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[verdemint]

So this video is my beznaia thesis! You can really see their dynamic and how they work with each other. This is just after India last year, Bezz won the race (his third of the year) and Pecco crashed out of the race. You have Bezz "trashtalking" Pecco a little bit to cheer him up, but it's not mean, Pecco is clearly in on the joke. And then the interviewer is trying to get Pecco to talk about his fall and pecco is kinda uncomfortable/pissed off and Bezz tries to direct the attention of the interviewer back at him, letting Pecco go. And then we have Bezz talking about his friendship with Pecco and how much Pecco is a real friend to him.

They treat each other as equals, they love trash-talking and fighting a bit but it's clear how Pecco is much more comfortable in front of cameras whenever Bezz is also there. You can feel how they truly value each other presence and the comfort they find in each other, it's just super cute to witness lol. It's obvious how much Bezz cares and respects Pecco, Pecco is just "much more mature!" a true adult in a way, and it's true in all aspects of their life, but Bezz is also the only one able to bring Pecco down to earth in a way, he sees right through him. All the academy guys are very much a little pack, always protecting each other in interviews and stuff but these two are each other comfort zone in that insane sport. This is getting a bit RPF but idc, it's just such a cute friendship :)

Translation lol

*Pecco is doing a gesture, "ti faccio un culo così" meaning something like "next time when I get u! I'm gonna beat u!" OBV HES JOKING*

Bez: “Come here! ... Do I have to come to you?...He wants to let me have my moment! … Can I say something tho? Whenever I’m in front of him during the race he crashes out”

Pecco arrives there

Pecco: “I don't want to be like parsley (lol meaning someone who’s everywhere, all the time, intruding in Bezz’ moment)” I: “What did u say Bezz?” B: “Whenever I’m in front he crashes out!” P: “I feel the mental pressure” B: “He’s not used to it, usually he’s always the one in front of me, the few times I’m first he can't deal with that!” … the interviewer starts talking with Pecco saying that sometimes it's more difficult to lead a race and not make any mistakes than being second and trying to catch up, asking Pecco if that's maybe why he crashed out.  Pecco a bit annoyed :“I crashed out of the race coz I crashed out of the race … Bez to the interviewer: “Stop asking him stuff, he’s angry after the race, it’s normal!” Pecco: “Let's talk about Bez, he was the best today!” Pecco runs away lol I: “Anyway, the relationship you two have is beautiful.” Bezz: “Pecco and I are close friends, I’ve found a fantastic friend in Pecco. It’s difficult sometimes being rivals and friends, but we’re both adults and mature, Pecco a little bit more!” Pecco is looking and touching the bike, “fake-checking” the brakes Bez: “This time I was there! I was braking better eh” Back to some trash-talking

[sonotpattismith]

My Lost, Fearless Leader.

(Yuta Okkotsu x Reader)

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’d learned, because love’s never lost once perspective is earned.

word count: 9k

warnings: angst, me never making it easy for poor Yuta

a/n: inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift. Lowkey a self-insert as I too am a therapist, tee hee. I hope y’all enjoy it, I absolutely love writing for Yuta even though I make him suffer every time 🥹🫶🏻

masterlist.

Dear Okkotsu,

I know you only landed last week, but you left me with so many questions when you said goodbye. At the risk of sounding too forward, I thought for a moment that you would kiss me before you left. You had a look in your eye, one I’d never seen before, and I even thought I saw you square your shoulders like you were about to charge into battle.

Inumaki offered to give me your number when I asked about you, but I feared too quick of a response if I were to text you. After all, I love to torture myself. Somehow a letter felt safer, more disconnected. Still, I hope you have the time to write back to me while you’re out there growing as you so desperately wanted to.

You still have me in your corner here in Tokyo.

With kind regards,

L/N.

Dear L/N,

I hope this letter gets to you soon, though I know it has some way to go— I don’t want to leave you waiting again. I wondered if I should just text you, but you’re right, maybe this is best for wimps like me who were too scared to kiss the girl they like before traveling oceans away. There’s more courage in me hiding behind a pen than I ever had standing in front of you.

No matter how badly I wanted to show you how I felt, I didn’t feel worthy enough when I looked at that scar on your face— one I should have been able to prevent. There’s so much for me to learn about this world, and Gojo-Sensei says Kenya is where I need to be. I trust him implicitly, and I only hope here I’ll be able to grow into someone worthy of coming back to all of you at Jujutsu High. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I hope to become someone worthy enough to indulge myself in you as well.

I hope you can find it in you to wait for me all the way in your corner of Tokyo.

Respectfully,

Okkotsu.

Dear Okkotsu,

You were right, your letter did travel far, and after two weeks, I feared I may not ever hear back from you.

What happened with Geto Suguru wasn’t your fault, and, if I remember correctly, you were the one that saved all of us that night. It breaks my heart that you feel you don’t have a place here with us. I never thought you needed to prove yourself, and if that’s the only reason you went thousands of miles away— then you should board the next flight back over.

If I had known it was the scar on my face that stopped you, I would have covered it just for you. No one else around here is willing to take the blame for me when I break one of Maki’s spears— that alone should earn you a spot right beside me over here. Speaking of, I hope the bump on your forehead has gone down.

Luckily for the both of us, patience is my best virtue, but I do hope you don’t make me wait terribly long. You don’t have to be the strongest.

Holding my breath,

Y/N.

Dear L/N,

Maybe eventually I’ll work up the courage to call you, but our weeks of waiting in between will just have to do for now.

I think you’re beautiful— regardless of your scar, and I hope I didn’t send the wrong message when I said it’s what stopped me. I only meant that it reminded me of the kind of guy that deserves your attention, one that has brought about more good than he has bad in his life.

I’ve hurt so many people, and it wouldn’t be right of me not to try to make up for the wrongs I’ve caused. It’s only been a month, but Miguel has taught me so much, and I’ve seen so many wonderful things. I’m not sure if you’re interested, but I’m sending you some pictures of all my favorite parts.

I hope Maki has been merciful to you, and, yes, my bump is gone. Still, the little scar there reminds me of you each time I see it. So, I suppose I should thank her.

We’ve been talking so much about me, but I want to hear how you’re doing back in your corner of the world. How have your classes been going? I almost miss hearing everyone arguing with Gojo-Sensei every morning.

I don’t want to be the strongest, but I want to be strong enough to be worthy of you. The last thing I want is to keep you waiting too long, but however long it takes for me to be able to make a mark on those who have shown such faith in me.

Thinking of you,

Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

Surely that’s not you in that picture beside the giraffe? It’s only been two months— what are they feeding you over there? I had to do a triple take. You look well, Okkotsu.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you behind that ink. You were never so bold when you were here. Do you have a ghostwriter? I have my doubts, but I still hope all those thoughtful words really are coming from you.

I can see how hard you’ve been working, and I hope you’re beginning to find in yourself the pride I and all us here at home have always had in you. I don’t think anyone blames you for the unfairness that’s clung to you thus far, and no one expects you to make up for any of it— at least I know I don’t. If you really insist on doing so though, maybe you can start by giving me a call every once and a while? I’m sure you're busy, but I’d love to hear your voice again.

Classes have been going well. We’re almost going into our second year now, and everyone still talks so fondly of you. We wish you were here to start the year with us. I certainly miss having someone who was equally as clueless when it came to this world— it felt like you were the last shred of normalcy I was hanging onto. It’s okay though, I suppose I have some growing to do too.

Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me, I think you’ve earned the first name basis. Unless of course, you need to build up the courage for that, too.

I only felt it was fair to send some pictures of all of us here as well— though they’re nowhere near as badass as your safari photos. Please keep sending them— I’ll cherish the ones I have here for now though.

Still waiting for you,

Y/N.

Three months following Yuta’s departure from Tokyo, you first received an actual call from him. You had just turned in for the night, muscles aching from the mission you and Maki had just returned from only an hour or two prior. Truthfully, you were having a difficult time with the added responsibility that was accompanying your new year at Jujutsu High.

Last year, at the very least, you had Yuta there who seemed on a fairly level playing field with you. Still, he held more of a determination to move forward in his life as a sorcerer than you did. After your encounter with Geto Suguru that had left you partially blinded in your right eye, it was difficult for you to find that gusto you had when you first arrived.

The deep lulls of slumber had just begun to penetrate your exhausted mind, and you could swear a more pleasant dream was just beyond your reach. When your phone began vibrating underneath your still cool pillow, your brows furrowed at the intrusion. The sound caused an electric-like jolt in your body that had you shooting up as if someone had just pulled the fire alarm. Calming your racing heart, you reached down to snatch the device up. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the blue light emitting from the screen, and you saw a number you didn’t recognize. Under the caller location though, it indicated that it was coming from Kenya.

Sitting up with a gasp, you gaped down at the device, uncertain excitement bubbling in your stomach and up your chest. Without a second thought, you swiped to answer the call. Amidst your anticipation of who you thought might be on the other line, you forgot to greet the caller.

“Um… uh- hello?”

A smile spread across your cheeks at the sound of his timid voice.

“A call from Kenya,” You began teasingly, your voice still hoarse from sleep. “I wonder who it could be.”

There was an abrupt shuffling on the other line, and you could already picture him pacing around whatever space he was currently occupying.

“You got me!” Yuta quipped nervously, quickly checking the time on his phone upon hearing the sleepy tone that laced your voice. It wasn’t too late over in Tokyo, and he figured if he didn’t call you now while he still had the nerve to do it, he never would. Okkotsu had determined during his time in Kenya that his confidence somehow peaked right after a successful mission. Naturally, this was when he calculated it would be the best time to call you with the lowest possibility of making a stuttering fool of himself. “Di-Did I wake you? I can call back another-”

“After you took three months to gather all that courage up?” You joked with a fond smile, reaching down to toy with the corner of your pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “I think I can stay up for a few minutes.”

He was grateful, so eternally grateful that you couldn’t see the way the blood rushed up his neck and into his face. Pressing a cool hand against his cheek as if it would make the heat die down, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It had been too long already since he last spoke, and the silence on the call was becoming overbearing as he thought of anything to say.

“You there, Yuta?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh-- still here.” The boy chuckled pathetically, pounding his balled up fist against his thigh, willing himself to quit being such a loser. Shooting up to begin his short trek around his room once again, he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to thank you. You know, for writing to me the past few months. I think they’ve been kind of motivating me, actually.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, lying back down on your pillow to stare stupidly up at the ceiling of your dorm. In hearing that shy voice that you had been missing for so long, you had forgotten about the aching, abused muscles that had been assaulting you just minutes prior. In its place was the rushing endorphins of your child-like crush on the boy on the other line. “So, when you come back strong enough to beat Sensei’s ass, I can take partial credit, right?”

His soft laugh filled your once silent room, inciting the overwhelming butterflies in your stomach to erupt in a fluttering haze.

“It’ll all be you.” Yuta joked halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck in relief that he’d gotten past the awkward silence unscathed. He flopped back down onto his bed and looked out the window at the slowly setting sun. “Uh… speaking of Sensei, how is everything over there? The exchange event is coming up soon, right?”

This made your smile slowly wane.

“Yeah, it’s next month. There was some drama with the first years, but everyone else seems to be pretty excited.”

“Everyone else? It sounds like you’re not including yourself in there.”

You sighed gently. Yuta was always so determined about growing as a sorcerer, so these types of events were always right up his alley. Not to mention the manner in which he absolutely wiped out the sister school at last year’s event. It actually caused a bit of second-hand embarrassment to watch the whole ordeal play out— no matter how quickly it concluded. After the atrocities of the past few months though, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be excited for the goodwill event.

It wasn’t that long ago that you watched all your friends meet near death at the hands of Suguru Geto, and you weren’t too far behind. They had all seemingly moved on from it all so fast— all of them except for Yuta Okkotsu. It seemed that all it had done was given him more ammunition to spark his journey of self discovery. You wished it had had the same effect on you. In truth though, all it sparked was a fear that your life, along with your friends, was constantly at the mercy of a crueler fate than most your age would be subjected to.

It felt wrong. Yuta shouldn’t have felt the need to bear the weight of you and your friends’ injuries all on his own. He shouldn’t have needed to go off to search for some unknown answer to all the insecurities his grueling life had thrust upon him. Still, it was so important to him. You could see the way it gave him purpose, a will to keep going despite all that he’d been through. It wasn’t his fault, but you always wished you could have found that same purpose within slaying curses and putting your life on the line.

A soft call of your name on the other line pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to lighten the mood.

“Last name again? So formal. I thought we were past that, Okkotsu.”

“Oh-- right, sorry.” He stammered out before trying your first name out on his lips. It was delicate in the way it rolled off his tongue, sending warmth straight through your chest. Recalling your sudden silence once his nerves subsided, his lips pulled pensively into a thin line. “Um, have you been doing okay? You know, since…”

Brows rising just a hair, you were shocked at how easily he read through your sudden change in tone. Your lip quivered into a slight frown. A deep breath was suddenly pushing down that biting urge you had to tear up.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just… wish you were still here is all.” You confessed into the dark, lonely dorm room. “I think you were the only one who understood how overwhelming this all was.”

Yuta felt his chest constrict at your earnest confession. Part of him felt guilty for not being there, but he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing by building himself up before he allowed himself to come back— especially to you. Still, the boy knew where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy being the newcomer in a world where your peers had a fifteen year head start on.

The two of you understood each other—empathized with one another. You both strived to make sure the other was doing okay; whether that be sneaking out late at night to practice with one another in hopes you both wouldn’t make fools of yourselves in training the next day, or just being someone that the other could glance knowingly at when one of your classmates mentioned something it seemed that everyone else was privy to, except you two.

“I’m getting stronger everyday.” Yuta offered earnestly, a soft, empathetic smile playing on his lips— the kind you could just hear through his gentle tone. “And I know you are too. We’re gonna kick some major butt one day, y’know?”

The boy was relieved when your glittering laugh filled his speakers, and he found himself laughing along with you. A comfortable silence blanketed over you two, and for a moment it felt as though you were laying right beside him, your gentle breaths lighting a fire within his soul. The courage that he thought he had lost upon hearing your voice for the first time in months was slowly flooding back to him, and he began pensively rolling his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Hey,” Okkotsu called out feebly, resting his hand down on his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingers. Reaching down to your discarded letter beside him, he picked up the picture you’d sent along with it. It was of all the second years, and he wondered with a smile if you had Gojo-Sensei take it for you all, and, if so, how much he complained about not being included.

You stood in the middle of Inumaki and Maki, Panda standing proudly and towering behind you. His thumb reached out to graze softly over your face. In the photo, one of your hands was teasingly covering your right eye, and he blushed as he remembered your earlier conversation about that scar. You hummed in acknowledgment on the other line. “Did you mean it? You know… when you said you’d wait for me?”

“Did you mean it when you said you were gonna come back for me?” You countered quickly.

Yuta exhaled nervously, the churning in his chest making him feel as though he might pass out. Staring back at your smiling face in the photo, he nodded breathlessly.

“Of course, I meant it. I meant every word.”

“Then so did I.”

Yuta Okkotsu’s reassuring promise helped ground you in your studies of jujutsu for a while longer, but you could still feel the aching insistence in the back of your mind that told you this wasn’t where you were meant to be. Your friendship with the sorcerer continued to grow even over the thousands of miles that separated you.

He’d call you whenever he had the chance to, and you’d text him about updates on what all his friends had been up to without him. Although both Inumaki and Maki kept up with him regularly, he allowed you to retell stories he’d more often than not already heard from them.

He could tell that you were struggling to find and hold your place as a sorcerer. You always listened enthusiastically when he’d tell you about the new techniques he was learning or the missions he’d been sent on, nodding along on the other line and hanging onto every word he said. Still, when he’d await to hear the progress of your training or how your latest mission had gone, you didn’t have the same enthusiasm in your tone.

It had been almost a year since he’d been gone. The two of you had never implicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, but your lingering promise to each other seemed to be enough to keep your hearts locked safely away for the other’s return. As the months dragged on though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth staying in the world of jujutsu that seemed to so expertly traumatize you and your peers.

You insisted on video calling him for once, eager to once again put a face to the voice that had been filling your every night for the past few months. Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you saw those warm, inviting eyes again paired with that timid smile, you’d find it in you to hold out just a bit longer.

“Ca-Can you see me?” Yuta’s ever anxious voice filled your quiet room once again. The palm of his hand briefly covered the camera before it was moved away, and it appeared as though he had propped you up on a dresser of some sort. He stepped back, hunching over so his face was still in the frame, staring hesitantly into the screen.

A brief exhale of disbelief left you at the sight of him. He had changed so much over the past year; from the inches he’d sprouted up, to the new broadness of his lean shoulders, right down to his more maturely parted hair as it swayed in his face.

His features appeared sharper than when you’d last seen him, a testament to how much he’d grown physically as well as mentally. The dark circles you remember being everpresent under his long, midnight-blue eyes seemed even more pronounced now, and you wondered just how hard this Miguel character had been working him. Despite his apparent lack of sleep though, he grinned cheerfully upon seeing your face.

Forgoing your previous concern, an ecstatic smile of your own lit up your face as you took him in. You had always thought he had a sort of innocent, gentle cuteness to him, but time and knowledge seemed to have morphed those characteristics into the sharp, hauntingly striking ghost of the boy you once knew presented before you. For the first time since knowing him, you thought you felt more nervous than he did at the moment.

“Wow! You look--” He paused, a slight flush filling his face, and suddenly he was that timid boy again, staring down at you with the false promise of a kiss. Your heart melted at the sight. Yuta was still looking nervously back at you, mouth hanging open as if his mind was running faster than his tongue could process. You raised your brows expectantly at him, hiding your amused smile. “Uh—pretty! You— you look really pretty.”

A soft blush fell across your cheeks.

“Thanks, Yuta.” You laughed softly, eyes fluttering across his face admiringly. “You look like you’ve… grown.”

“Oh, me?” He laughed skittishly, hand coming up to rustle through his jet black locks. His brows were furrowed slightly as he looked down at his own appearance as if he was only just now noticing the growth spurt he’d had in the past year. “Yeah! I guess—”

“Is that blood on your shirt?” You suddenly noticed, leaning forward so your squinting eyes could get a better look at the dark matter that clung to his white top. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and in an instant, his fumbling hands were working to unbutton his uniform shirt. It was no use though, the white t-shirt underneath was also stained through.

“Sorry, I just got back from a mission.” He admitted dejectedly, grabbing the phone and sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed behind him. “I would’ve showered, but I didn’t want to keep you up too late.”

You sat back against your headboard tentatively. It was incredible to you how he was never phased by the violence and bloodshed that shrouded this lifestyle. There were so many nights that you lay awake, eyes unblinking as you tried to forget the horrors you’d witnessed just long enough to get some sleep.

“How do you do it, Yu?” You asked timidly.

Yuta took in the way your wide eyes glimmered with the threat of unspilled tears. There it was again— that underlying fear in your tone and demeanor that told him that something wasn’t quite right, and it hadn’t been right since you came so close to death.

“What do you mean, love?” He wasn’t sure where that term of endearment came from, maybe from the concern that had been pooling in him for months and had now suddenly burst upon seeing that broken look in your eyes. Either way, it was too late to take it back now.

“Act like everything’s normal when you come home covered in blood and guts and watch people die— watch your friends—”

“I’m doing this for my friends.” His response had a defensive edge to it, but his wide eyes were gentle, taking in your vulnerable state carefully. “And for the people I’ve had to watch die. Bad things will happen whether I’m a part of them or not. How can I sit back and do nothing when that’s all I’ve done my entire life?”

You suddenly felt small in your corner of the world. He was selfless, fearless, purposeful in his mission as a sorcerer, and you couldn’t fault him for it. Moreso, you faulted yourself for lacking that same drive.

“I just– sometimes I feel like this isn’t for me. I’m not like you, Yuta. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this. I’m not strong enough for this.”

Yuta continued to insist upon believing in your growth, just as you had believed in his. His persistence in your strength of character only served to break your heart more. You knew the deeper his faith in you ran, the more crushing his disappointment would be when you inevitably let him down.

In the weeks following your dismayed conversation with him, you weren’t answering his calls as often, afraid he would be on the other line hoping to hear of your growth and the things you’d overcome— but you had none to show for. You usually texted him with false excuses that you were on a mission, or that you were simply too tired to talk that night. No matter how hard you tried to pride yourself in your little victories, your faith in your abilities as a sorcerer was waning quickly before your eyes.

He had always said that he was the one undeserving of his place in this world— of his place beside you. The stronger he grew though, the more you only noticed the opposite.

It was a month after your phone call that you received a small package from Kenya, recognizing the stamp immediately as one of the various animal themed ones Yuta seemed to keep stockpiled just for you. Chewing at your bottom lip, a sense of guilt washed over you, knowing you hadn’t been keeping up with him as much as you once did. Despite this, he continued to try, desperate to get through to you somehow before you slipped from between his fingers all together.

Ripping open the orange, padded envelope, you overturned the contents onto your bed. The wooden beads of a bracelet clacked softly against one another as they fell upon the comforter, a letter landing gently atop it. You ran your fingers along the thin bracelet, thinking maybe if you concentrated long enough, you’d be able to feel the warmth of his fingers lingering from when he’d carefully placed it into the envelope for you. You picked up the accompanying letter.

Dear Y/N,

It seems like they’ve been keeping you really busy over there in your corner of the world! I had so much I wanted to tell you, but I thought maybe it’d be best to put it all into a letter so you could read it at a time that’s best for you.

Gojo-Sensei says that I’ll probably be coming back soon, maybe in the next couple of months even. If all goes well, I hope to be joining everyone for our final year. It’d be nice to all be together again. It’d be nice to actually see you again.

You don’t have to tell me everything, but I know you’ve been going through a hard time recently, and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you. You were wrong the other night on the phone— you are stronger than you think. This life isn’t easy, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not fit for it just because it hurts you right now.

When I felt I had no strength left in me to keep going, it was you who lent me some of yours until I could stand again. I’m sending it back to you now, so please use it to keep moving forward until I can lend you some of mine. Please, keep waiting for me.

The beads on the bracelet I sent you represent all the things I wish for you. The red represent bravery and strength, the kind I know you have in you still. Until you find them though, let these be a reminder. The yellow are for growth, and until you can see it coming your way, let these motivate you.

I got one just like it for myself, so I can be reminded everyday of the things I love about you. I’ll keep it on me always, and I hope as you’re waiting that you’ll do the same.

Still yours,

Yuta.

Tears were streaming freely down your cheeks and staining the precious letter before you. With wobbling lips, you bit back a quiet sob as you carefully slipped the thin bracelet onto your wrist. Strength. Bravery. Growth. They were all pillars that seemed so far away from you, but Yuta was convinced you held them just within your grasp. If anything, the beads would serve as a reminder that someone important was counting on you, and you’d rather suffer the uphill battle than disappoint him.

The next morning, you woke early to speak with Gojo. He was lounging lazily in his large, plush chair, laptop sat carelessly on his lap when you came in. As if expecting you all along, he looked up from his bored typing to offer a sly smile— the type that told you he was always steps ahead of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo greeted, closing his laptop and setting it haphazardly on his desk. Leaning back, he laced his fingers casually in his lap, jutting his chin toward the seat in front of him.

Hesitantly, you sat down. Your posture was rigid as you stared back at his half-covered face. Although your sensei had never given you a reason to fear him, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of how he might react to your request.

“I… I don’t know how to say this.”

He stayed silent, allowing you to collect your thoughts. The small smile tugging at his lips said he already knew what was plaguing your mind. Fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, you were reminded of the importance that you stand your ground here.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a sorcerer.” It was out there, and it hung heavily in the air around you. Looking down at your twiddling fingers, you felt that familiar lump building in your throat. Your sensei was silent before you. Glancing up at him through tear soaked eyes, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “I’m not like the others. I can’t bounce back like they do. It scares me; the death, the fighting, the loss— it terrifies me, Gojo. I can’t do it anymore. I-I just—”

“You’ve been struggling for a while now, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question— an observation he’d been holding onto for some time. The older man wasn’t oblivious, he could see when his students were beginning to slip away; physically and mentally.

“How did you know?” You briefly wondered if Yuta had mentioned something to him during their regular check in calls, but you doubted it.

Standing abruptly from his chair, he strolled leisurely around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“You remind me of someone, is all.” Gojo’s cryptic message left more questions than answers. Though you had grown used to his dodgy answers and coded messages, now was really not the time. Before you could express your annoyance, he continued. “You’re not stuck, you know.”

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in disbelief. Standing up to face him as he stared out the window, your mind was racing at the possibilities.

“You mean— I could leave? Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’d talk to the higher ups today for you if that’s really what you want.” Still, the edge in his tone indicated that he wasn’t about to let you off that easily. As if sensing your apprehension, he tilted his head playfully toward you, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve seen what this gig can do to people. I don’t need to see you fall victim to it too.”

“I mean— I…” You were stumbling over your words. For the past few years, you were sure that your future was set for you— one you were apprehensive about living, but one that was secure nonetheless. Where would you go from here?

Gojo hummed pensively— invitingly. God, how you wished he would just spit out what he clearly wanted so desperately to say. Of course, he always wanted his students to come to their own conclusions, set their own fates.

“The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” The sensei announced dramatically, taking another lap around the room. You shivered at the mention of that night. He leaned toward you with a raised brow. “That’s when this all started, am I right? You almost died, if I remember correctly.”

“I would have if it hadn’t been for—”

“Yuta Okkotsu.” He cut you off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and for a moment you thought you saw his head tilt down as if to look at the bracelet you were currently rolling between your fingers. Nodding softly, he continued. “Still, you cut it pretty close. Must have been traumatizing. Partially lost your sight, almost lost your friends, your life.”

You nodded silently, unsure of where he was going with this long winded rant. Of course, him giving you a simple out was just too easy for Gojo-Sensei’s ‘everything is a life lesson’ style of teaching.

“Tell you what, why don’t I set up a meeting for you to meet with a counselor? Someone who specializes in all our creepy-crawly problems?”

“Like… like therapy?” You questioned with furrowed brows. A therapist for sorcerers? You didn’t even know such a thing existed. Still, the prospect sparked a certain hope in your chest, one that the six eyes saw instantly. He didn’t bother to conceal his victorious smile.

“Yup. Nice, comfy couch and everything.” He advertised as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His long fingers began typing purposefully against the screen before he looked up at you again. “Of course, she’s kind of running a one-man show, so her schedule is pretty tight. I can pull a few strings for you though.” His words rang in your mind with a faint echo. That suggestive, underlying tone in his voice, it was beginning to seep through, and your gut was telling you his suggestion was a lot more calculated than you would ever give him credit for. “That kind of work is in high demand, you know— what with all the new curses popping up since Itadori came along.”

Gojo was continuing to drop hints, but you had already heard him loud and clear. This was something he thought you could do— somewhere he knew you would fit within this hectic world. As a teacher, it was his job to train the up and coming sorcerers for the perils that lay ahead of them. In the same prospect though, he had also become incredibly adept at discovering their potential and nudging them toward it— even if it wasn’t as gently as he thought.

The following week you met with the therapist Gojo had supposedly pulled so many strings to get you in to see. She had a small office just minutes away from the school, and you wondered why she wasn’t on campus. She hadn’t suggested it to you first, though she was well aware of what Gojo was trying to do when he set up this meeting.

So, amidst your explanation of everything you had been experiencing since that night, you dropped in questions. How did she know this was the right path for her— how closely did she work with Jujutsu High— how did she get where she was?

By the gentle and encouraging manner in which she answered all of your questions, you had a gut feeling once again that Gojo had already been three steps ahead of you. You were set to transfer out of Jujutsu High the following week.

Your sensei funded your education through an outside university, who’s higher ups had connections with the school. Kaori, the god-sent sorcerer counselor who’d seemingly fallen from the heavens right when you needed her, was more than happy to take you under her wing as well. In truth, she was relieved to have some help around the office given the influx of referrals she’d been receiving recently.

Everything had been falling into place, yet there was still one last loose end you had yet to tie up from your life as a sorcerer. You looked down at the box of letters you’d kept over the past year or so from Yuta.

Following his last letter, and how determined he seemed to be that you would make it as a sorcerer— you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you had given up. After everything he’d done to grow himself into the man he was now, a fearless and loyal sword to his friends and the innocent— and you had given up. In the end, despite his insistence that it was him not worthy enough to stick around, you realized it had been you all along.

You weren’t worthy of Yuta Okkotsu.

Your trembling finger hovered over his contact, but you couldn’t do it. Clicking your phone off, you stared up at the ceiling of your now empty dorm room and allowed the hot tears to burn your cheeks, dripping down your neck and into the hem of your shirt. He was still finishing up his training, growing into a man he could be proud of, experiencing the things that made him feel alive. It would be selfish of you to drop this on him now.

Setting down the box on your desk, you pulled out a spare sheet of paper and sat down to draft your last prose to Yuta Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you will have already heard about my departure from Jujutsu High. I wanted to call you and tell you everything that’s been on my mind, to give you a proper goodbye, but I didn’t want to interrupt your progress overseas.

I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. I’ll cherish each bit of it as long as I live. You kept me holding on through my lowest points, even if it wasn’t the life of sorcery that I was holding onto.

I know I’m cowardly, but I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I had given up. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to hold your place here, and I suppose a part of me feels foolish for giving mine up so easily.

Your passion for undoing the wrongs in this world is so beautiful, and although I couldn’t share it with you, it only ever made me love you more. Please never take it for granted. Continue to fight to hold your place here, because you hold more power than you could ever come to know. I can feel it, even when you’re not here.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t wait for you.

Forever yours,

Y/N

When Yuta Okkotsu arrived back at Jujutsu High three months later, he had already been sitting on the news of your departure for two weeks. His friends thought it best to at least prepare him for when he returned, but he figured so much when you stopped responding to his calls and messages. No amount of preparation could have stopped the hole from opening up in his chest upon reading the letter you’d left in his dorm room. It sat neatly on his untouched pillow— a ghost that haunted him the second he stepped in.

He tried with fervor to be excited for his return, smiling along half heartedly when his friends shoved a party hat on his head and insisted upon celebrating all the birthdays they’d missed. Those haunting blue eyes only stared lifelessly at the cake before him, his soul still sat on the edge of his bed where he’d read your letter.

Forever yours.

Yuta wondered if those simple two words meant the door was open for him to swing in and come find you as he so ardently promised he would. Gojo-Sensei said you were happy though— working toward your place in the world. It was one he no longer felt he had a place in— not when his life consisted so wholly of the very things you were running from.

Months passed, and the both of you tried so desperately to move on. Despite being content in the roots your lives had sprouted, there was always a missing piece that stopped the both of you from blossoming. You always held your breath in hopes he’d come back to you like he said he would, and he always hoped you were still waiting for him despite his insistence that you were happier without him. The both of you were only kids when you’d carelessly thrown out such a vow, after all.

Gojo felt whole-heartedly confident in his whim to have Kaori train you. There was a spark in you, one that wanted to heal those that this world had so carelessly wounded, even if that meant you having to heal yourself first. In the end, it was the right decision, and he prided himself in the fact that there was a happy medium to keep your talents within the jujutsu world still while also fulfilling your purpose. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that lingered ever present though, and that was the infuriating case of you and Yuta Okkotsu.

It was getting depressing— watching the boy mope around pretending to not have the very obvious chip on his shoulder all the damn time. Your old sensei still kept up with you and your progress often, seeing as the school worked closely with Kaori to refer in need sorcerers on a regular basis.

Each time he’d pop in for a visit or called unexpectedly, you’d always ask how everyone back at the school was doing. Sure, you really did hope your old friends were doing okay, but you were really holding your breath for when he’d mention Yuta. Gojo always spoke of him so highly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly each time, thinking of how proud you were at how much he’d accomplished— just as he said he would. Still, the six eyes never missed that morose glimmer in your eye as you’d nod along to his stories.

“Have you ever tried sleeping at night, or are those dark circles just a part of you now?”

Yuta was snapped from his stupor when his sensei dropped unceremoniously beside him as he looked on at his friends ahead of him. As if having just been reminded of his perpetual exhaustion, he reached up subconsciously to rub at those aforementioned dark eyes.

“Oh, haha,” Yuta’s halfhearted attempt at a laugh only served to drive Gojo’s purpose right home. “Yeah, guess my sleep schedule never really adjusted back to normal, huh?”

“You aren’t performing like you should be, Okkotsu.”

He gaped exasperatedly at his sensei, blinking a few times as if maybe he just hadn’t heard him correctly. Frankly, he had been kicking ass lately, and everyone around him knew it too. Still, if Gojo-Sensei was telling him he was falling behind, it was seemingly the only opinion that mattered. Even if it wore him down till only his skeleton remained, he would keep getting better until he could prove himself to the man who took a chance on him.

Already picking up on the look of determination on the boy’s face, Gojo put out a solemn ‘slow your roll’ hand in front of him. Sighing in amusement, the sensei thought the boy would crush a semi-truck between his hands if it’d make him grow— meant he could prove himself.

“Your mind isn’t here. Hasn’t been since you got back. I can tell, you know.”

Okkotsu’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. No matter how much he worked to train physically, to learn to control his cursed energy and techniques, there was always that one lingering barrier that seemed to keep him from reaching his potential. Of course, he knew he had been more distracted since your departure, but he figured— hoped— it would pass eventually. He thought maybe if he ignored it long enough, pushed down that frenzy to rip his hair out by the roots and bellow out every frustration he’d held in for allowing you to slip away, each day as the urge melted away into dreams of you at night that woke him with a crater in his chest— maybe eventually it would fade just as you did.

“Try to get some rest, clear your mind. Do what you gotta do.” Gojo emphasized, leaning down to tower over his apprehensive prodigy with a knowing smile. His covered eyes flicked down to where Yuta’s fingers were rolling the beads of his colorful bracelet pensively. He hummed in amusement. “You know, I know someone who has that same bracelet.”

His student perked up ever so subtly upon hearing this. The prying man quickly moved to grasp his wrist and inspect the bracelet closer. It made Yuta feel exposed, wanting to crawl under his covers and not come out again if it meant no one else would lay their eyes on the one connection he still had to you. Gulping thickly, he snatched his wrist back, covering the wooden jewelry protectively under his other hand.

“Oh, you know her, don’t you?” Satoru feigned remembrance, snapping his fingers dramatically. “She used to go here.”

The stunned boy stammered out your name in question. It still felt so natural, so effortless rolling off of his tongue despite the prolonged period that had passed since he’d uttered those syllables.

“Yeah! Saw it on her just last week.”

All the blood seemed to drain from Yuta Okkotsu’s face. His wide, haunting eyes suddenly transfixed hazily on the smiling man before him in a manner that would have been terrifying had it been directed at a stranger. You still wore the bracelet he got you? The prospect had his mind spinning, and his stomach churning anxiously. The poor guy looked as though he would short circuit at any moment; brows twitching into a deep furrow, the corners of his lips fluttering in uncertainty. He blinked a few times before looking up at his sensei with a new sense of determination clouding his eyes.

“Where did you say she went?”

Bingo!

The clock’s ticking mocked you menacing as you raced to finish your assessment notes within the hour. Kaori was always merciful with you, understanding that you were still learning and would likely take more time with things, but you couldn’t help but urge yourself to do better.

It had been almost a year that you had been studying while working alongside the counselor, and you had blossomed in a way you never thought would have been possible. Granted, you weren’t able to do any of what you had lovingly labeled as ‘the fun stuff’ yet, you had adjusted surprisingly well to the countless intake assessments and documentation your mentor had entrusted you with. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having a second counselor there with her, but anything helped ease the weight of her overwhelming caseload. She knew it was good experience for you too.

Despite her hectic schedule, Kaori still found time to meet with you often to check in regarding the struggles that brought you to her in the first place, insisting it would be a crucial step in your training as well. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to rebuild that confidence in yourself and your own purpose in this monstrous world. It felt cathartic, being a part of the process of healing for those torn down by the very things that hurt you so long ago as well. It was meaningful— fulfilling.

You wondered if this was how Yuta felt when he was out there, helping people as well, just in his own way. A sharp pang struck you each time your mind wandered too far though, and you were always quick to reel it back in.

Your bottom lip was caught ruthlessly between your teeth, and it seemed the clacking of your keyboard was fighting against the ticking of the clock for dominance. A small spark of defeat struck you as you heard the door of the office creak open. Looking up at the time, your brows furrowed in confusion. You were sure that you had already completed the last intake Kaori had scheduled for you today. Scrambling into the drawer beside you to pull out a new form, you hoped you would at least look somewhat prepared whenever the unexpected patient came to your desk.

“Hi, there!” You called out from your tucked away cubicle, fumbling to save the document you were working on. “I’m back here, you can come on in.”

Slow footsteps approached closer and closer before pausing in front of your desk. Pushing the hair from your eyes, you looked up with a warm, inviting smile.

Oh.

The smile on your face slowly faded as Yuta Okkotsu towered over your desk. It wasn’t the version of him you once knew; this one was taller, more refined, more calculated with the manner in which he held himself. His wide, midnight-blue eyes regarded you carefully, but his face revealed nothing. Your mouth opened and closed pathetically, your mind desperately trying to catch up with the way your day had suddenly progressed. Stepping forward, he calmly sank down into the chair in front of you, hands gripping the arms casually.

“Yu—”

“I heard you offer counseling for sorcerers, right?” He was suddenly smiling sweetly at you, but there was a controlled glint in his eyes— holding him back. Not allowing you to respond, he continued. “Well, I have some things to get off my chest, so it’s lucky I found you, huh?”

You sank back into your chair, allowing the papers in your hands to slip from your fingers and swoosh softly onto the desk. Nodding gently, you urged him to go on, anxiety balling up in the pit of your stomach. He launched off on a long-winded story, one you already knew like the back of your hand— you lived it, after all. Your already knowing the climax didn’t stop the furious blush that overtook you as he recalled the letter he’d found in his dorm upon his arrival back to Tokyo.

“She always had this sweet way of signing off all her letters to me.” Yuta recounted with a soft smile, eyes glimmering as they looked back at you. Yours, on the other hand, were holding back the dam of tears that had been building up for countless months. As the first tear slipped down your cheek, you saw his resolve start to crumble, gaze chasing the drop as it raced down your skin. His bottom lip trembled. “She signed that last one— she signed it off ‘forever yours’, but I never saw her again.”

“Yuta—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?” He finally snapped, his own tears swimming in his eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward desperately. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve—”

“I tried! I tried to tell you, but you were so sure that I was going to get through it. How was I supposed to look you in the eyes after you gave up so much of your life to train to be better? How was I supposed to tell you I was giving up?”

“You promised me!” His cry rang out in the quiet office, shoving his chair back to stand over you once again. You heard Kaori’s office door open abruptly, likely startled by the perceived altercation. Despite his dominating presence and lingering stance, you couldn’t find it in you to be intimidated by him. You shook your head softly toward your mentor, letting her know you were fine. As the door hesitantly shut once again, Yuta was sinking closer to you despairingly. “I would’ve come back for you— I wouldn’t have cared where I had to look, okay? I wouldn’t have cared that you left everything— but you weren’t supposed to leave me.”

His wounded tone finally caught up to you, and you let your head fall down onto your crumpled hands as you cried. Yuta sighed softly, almost regretting his stinging confession. Quickly looping around the desk, he settled down on his knees in front of you and turned you to face him.

“I’m sorry, Yuta.” You cried, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you from your chair. He was stronger than you last remembered him being, but his touch was just as delicate. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, right?” He assured gently, pulling you away from his chest so he could look at you with a smile, tears still clinging to his lashes. His cool hand ran down from your shoulder to your wrist, and he traced the bracelet that hadn’t come off your wrist since you received it. A soft flush covered his cheeks. “You kept it, huh?”

“You kept yours, too.” You laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheeks with one hand and grasping his bracelet with the other.

“I told you, I always meant everything I said to you. I still do.” His words almost made you break down again, but you worried if you started boo-hoo crying again that Kaori might just burst through the door with more determination than she had last time.

So instead, you took a moment to glance over his matured face, shaking your head in amusement upon seeing those familiar dark circles still hanging under his eyes. Your heart clenched as your eyes ran across the small scar that Maki left on his forehead. When you met his gaze once again, it gave you pause. Yuta had that look in his eyes— the same one he had all those years ago before he left for Kenya. The rapid patter of your heart could be felt in your throat.

Despite your nerves, your lips twitched up into a knowing smile. You reached up tentatively to place a hand over your right eye, covering the scar that had stopped him all those years ago. He pursed his lips at this action and shook his head. In an instant, his long fingers were wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.

“Don’t.” Yuta said simply before leaning down to capture your lips in his, more assuredly than his sixteen year old self ever could have dared to, but just as sweetly as the boy who promised to come back to you would have.

[r0-boat]

Yandere Sitri headcannons

Aishite, Aishite, Aishite! Motto, Motto!

Cw: yandere themes, NSFW, baby trapping, Somnophilia,

Yandere!Sitri x reader

As a being who studied in Hades, perhaps maybe even lived in Hades at some point no matter how long he has lived and served under the king of wrath He will never get rid of is that true deep feeling of envy that gnaws at his stomach like a venomous green-eyed beast. As he stared with eyes full of cold, callus hatred watching all of his colleagues and even other kings fun over you and fight for your attention.

Even Satan would not be safe, as Sitri a loyal Butler and follower his adoration for the King of Gehenna slowly being consumed by his envy of him.

He self-proclaims as himself being the closest to Solomon before his death. And not only that he falls deeper in love with you everyday. It was not just love It was borderline worship. Something that only angels could notice since this deep twisted feeling of loving something to the point of insanity was all too familiar to them.

Sitri was a devil. He couldn't lie to you directly, but he could still deceive. He could still manipulate you in another way, spin half-truths, and try slowly but surely to gain your trust to have you in his arms finally. He knows he'll have a lot of competition to win someone as precious as Solomon's daughter, But he feels confident studying in Hades. That is ruled under envy. He felt as though he had been training for this moment.

As the right-hand devil of a king so possessive as Satan, he has to work in the shadows. He does not have the luxury of being so public with his true desires. And how he thinks of everyone as savage dogs getting in the way. He must ensure that he should be your only choice in the end even if He needs to twist your mind to make you think lies.

However as a devil. The hardest thing he has to do is hold back every aching desire he has in him to not grab you hold you in his arms and drag you to the darkest depths of Gehenna's dungeon so no one, not even the king can find you. Scaring you away would be a death sentence or worse being pinned as a threat to not only your safety but the safety of hell itself.

So he bites his time patiently, waiting patiently, patiently! and patiently laying every card just right so he could snatch you up in the end. Occasionally, his mask does slip, something he could only do when he's giving you his "devil's energy" where you can write it off as some kind of kink. Or filling you up and hoping it takes. He knows very little on human anatomy but he does know that you would never want to leave if you knew you had a baby with a devil.

Hopefully by that time he'll have all his plans would be meticulously drawn out. And hopefully if all goes well after the war he will confess his true love to you and if you don't accept him you won't have a choice He will not leave you He will not let you leave him like last time.

Sometimes he will indulge in his desires sneaking into your room to listen to that soft low drum of that precious heart of yours. By that point he would be slipping more herbs in your tea to help you sleep deeper as he climbs into your bed to feel your body. Pressing his bare skin against yours he feels his cock hardening. Your name not your nickname, Your name slips from his lips like a silent prayer as his cock fucks your plush thighs.

Other times, he will keep notebooks filled to the brim with information about the type of toothpaste you use. He will know you and your body down to the kilogram. And, of course, Sitri will use that information to try to gain your favor.

And oh, how he would worship you; serve you like royalty and a lover. How he dreams of waking up to you snuggling against him so close that the only thing he can hear is the sound of your hearts intertwined, beating as one as you snuggle into his chest.

He's as intelligent as he is delusional, Don't even attempt trying to manipulate him He will see right through you. He will not punish or break you.

[satorusluvrgirl]

OFFICE HOURS ONLY! K.NANAMI

synopsis in which y/n works alongside nanami in a huge project, only to find herself getting the stress fucked out of her

warnings female anatomy, she/her pronouns, stimulation/penetration, oral sex, pet name used is "sweetheart", unpotected sex, gojo mentioned as a fuck buddy,

author’s note this is my first collab with @leahrintarou! thank you for collaborating with me lele! <3 please be nice and no hate comments tolerated! enjoy reading <3

WORKING hours and hours at the most famous company really had you fucking drained to the fullest. Getting up at 6 am to be at work at 8 and then going home at 11 pm. Your schedule was mostly full of just work on work on work. But the pay was good at least. And it’s not like you totally hated your job, there was one thing you really looked forward to every morning.

Which was Nanami Kento. The man who would always greet you when you would walk in the office, his “good morning, miss” would always hit the spot, making you look forward to the day. The man who welcomed you on your first day and took you out to get a coffee, little did you know he remembered it, taking you your coffee everyday. The man who would always try to make small talk with you in the break room and ask you little questions.

You knew since the first day you had a huge crush on Nanami. After all he was handsome, well put together, and very well dressed. The suits he had on which made him look so sexy in, they were always top designer suits. Which was understandable since he’s been working longer in this company than you and making more. You wanted Nanami. But the more you thought about him, it just made you more curious about him. is he married? does he have kids? what are his hobbies? but you never made your move. You put the thought in your head that a man like him was most likely married and probably had kids, oh but how you were so wrong.

Nanami was single. A hard working single man who was always working 24/7 and practically had no life other than this job. He never really thought of love. He was always stressed and had no time for anything. He wished he could find someone to relate to his problems. Someone who can probably help him and relieve all this stress he has in him. And he will.

NOW it was 9:30 pm on a Friday, you were working on a big project your boss assigned you, it wasn’t too bad but the first section you were done with. It was just the second section you had a struggle with. You had been working on this project for days, you even had to stay overtime. You set your pencil down and sighed, leaning on your chair. Since you were going to be extending your stay at the office tonight, you thought you should get coffee, italian coffee of course. You grabbed your mug, making your way to the break room which was not too far from your office.

But of course Nanami was in there, He turned his head over to you and flashed a smile. “hello y/n”. you smiled back at him, “hi nanami” you said softly, your voice ringing in his ears. You walked in the room making your way to the coffee machine and pouring it in your mug, your back faced to Nanami. “How’s your project coming along? I see you’re staying overtime to finish it?” he leaned over the counter, taking a sip out of his mug.

you let out a chuckle, “yeah I am.. I got done with the first section of it.. it’s just the second part. i’m just so stressed” you sighed. “i’m sorry about that.. but you know I can always give you a helping hand” nanami offered to you. Maybe this could be your chance to get to know him better, but you knew how stressful it could be so you didn’t want him to help you. “uhm no nanami it’s okay really.. I really appreciate the offer though” you nodded. “I don’t take no for an answer, y/n” he said in a serious tone.

“are you really sure?” you looked at him sincere. “yes of course” he nodded, you sighed. “fine, uhm i’ll go over to your office once everyone starts heading out.” he put his coffee mug down to add more creamer, “sure thing”, you smiled and started walking out, “alright thanks nanami! i’ll see you later” you said before leaving the room.

You let out a breath you held in while talking to him, as you got to your office you squealed lowly to yourself in excitement. It was finally your time with Nanami alone. Just you two, no one else in the office.

AS the time passed you grew impatient, you wanted to be with Nanami, and finally the time came. You fixed up yourself in the bathroom mirror. Lifting up your skirt and fixing your blazer, along with your hair. You also fixed up your makeup since you had your bag with you, you added more of your lipstick and gloss on your lips. You got your perfume and sprayed all over your body.

Looking in the mirror you fixed up a little more. You left the bathroom and gathered your things, heading to Nanamis office. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door which you heard him say “Come in!” you slowly opened the door and slid in. “hi” you said with a small wave making Nanami smile. “here come take a seat” he patted the seat next to him by his desk. you took your seat, you opened up your computer and pulled out the section you had to work on for the project. Nanami pulled your chair closer to him making you widened your eyes.

“Sorry I couldn’t see your screen” he said. You nervously chuckled, “i’m sorry about that”. You turned your computer to him. “It’s fine, let’s get to work shall we?” you smiled and nodded. “yes, let’s do it..”

An hour had past by, you and nanami quickly opened up to each other. Just like how you hoped for. He was telling you everything you wanted to know, To his hobbies, to his favorite ice cream color. You were admired by him, the way he talked about his passions with you. It just made you fall for him even more.

Nanami wasn’t really the type to open up quickly or even talk, but with y/n it was different. She was different. She was a breath of fresh air and that’s something Nanami needed in his life. Y/n made him feel at ease. He felt like he could talk to her without being judge, vice versa with her as well. Not only that Nanami always noticed y/n. She was very hot. But he thought she had a boyfriend, a girl like her was probably in a relationship. he was wrong like how you were.

“Alright I think that’s the last of it” Nanami typed the final words in and sent in an email to the boss. “thank you nanami I really appre-” you got cut off by a notification on your phone, making you both look down as your phone was placed in between you both. Giving Nanami access to see your phone clearly and so did you.

GOJO: haven’t seen you in a while, angel. can I see you tonight?

“boyfriend?” Nanami looked away from the phone to you. You looked at him at the same time, “no he’s just a friend”. Nanami raised his brow at you, he wasn’t convinced. “friends send each other those kin-” once again your phone rang and it was gojo again…

GOJO: [attachment image] (dick pic)

“Friends send each other those type of messages and pictures?” Nanami teased. You turned off your phone, “it’s not like that..” you sighed. “you’re not going to reply?” you shakes your head no, of course not why would you reply when your with the man who you’ve been dying to spend time with.

“I'm just too stressed to be dealing with him right now” you closed your computer. “I could help with that.” Nanami smirked and put his hands on your thighs “h-huh?” you stuttered in disbelief but as you turned your head a bit, all that you saw was the genuine expression on his features.

Although you weren't too familiar with Nanami all that well, you couldn’t help but feel sure that he wasn’t the type to play games. His serious demeanor combined with that smirk hinted at a depth you found irresistible.

“Y-You could help?” you echoed, your heart racing as his hand lingered on your thigh. It was a bold move, and you were torn between excitement and nerves.

“Just a little stress relief,” he said, his voice low, leaning slightly closer. “Sometimes we need more than just coffee to unwind.”

You swallowed hard, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was a desire that mirrored your own. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, we could start by talking about what you really want,” he replied, brushing his thumb gently against your skin.

The heat radiating from his touch sent shivers down your spine. “I... I want to know you better,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “But I don’t want to complicate things.”

He leaned back slightly, giving you a searching look. “Complication can lead to something beautiful,” he said, his tone earnest. “And right now, I think we both need a break from this endless cycle of work.”

"I guess you could say that."

Nanami hummed at your word, his hand sliding a bit more up your thigh. you heart thumped against your chest and you were sure that if you released your body from it's tense state, it would beat right through your chest. "now," he began, making you look up at him, your eyes locked on each others.

"tell me your answer to my previous question, y/n."

"what i want?" you question. it seemed like you were making sure that you understood what he meant, but in actuality, you already knew. you just needed some kind of excuse to give yourself time to think and answer the question properly without making a complete fool of yourself. he nodded, sitting up properly in his seat.

"i just need a break from this project. that's all." you finally confessed. although it was the truth, it wasn't the entirety of it. "then lets take one. I'm sure thirty minutes won't hurt."

"just thirty?" you questioned, eyes widening at his next word. "what? you think it'll take longer for me to get you to feel good?" his fingertips finally grazed your clothed sex with a careful motion. your body jolted just barely, but with the way Nanami's gaze was on you, he of course noticed it.

"relax for me, sweetheart. this is supposed to help you feel better." he twisted his wrist slightly, allowing the pads of his middle and ring finger to press against your clothed bud. you let out a shaky breath and as he applied more pressure, the feeling only increased. "you know, there's a few people down the hall." he muttered, using his freehand to turn your chair so that you'd face him. "all had the same idea as us to stay after hours and finish up some work."

Nanami mentioned this on purpose. he knew where he wanted to get with this and you began to pick up on it too when he began massaging circular motions against your sensitive bud. "as much as i want to hear the beautiful sounds you make, you have to be quiet, okay?" he features softened and you so badly wanted to feel relaxed by it, but the more he continued, the harder you'd bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the slipping whimper.

you shook your head, holding his gaze and moving your hand to grip his wrist. "Nanami-" he only sped up his movements, and this time you couldn't help but let out an audible moan. the fabric of your panties only gave you more friction. his hands were skillful and heavy in a way that you couldn't even begin to explain. "that's going to be a problem, y/n." he spoke, his voice snapping you out of your small daze along with the fact that he stopped his movements.

"what is?" you asked, uneasy not just by his words, but his tone as well. he couldn't have just played you and decided against you guys' dangerous idea, right? that wasn't like Nanami, but when you thought deeper, you realized that maybe it was. afterall, you didn't know him all that well. "oh, don't sound so heartbroken sweetheart." he said, a small frown on his lips at your despairing expression.

"i-i'm sorry." you quickly said, shifting a bit to get out of his grasp, but he stopped you with a hand against the arm of your chair. "that's not it. you've got the wrong idea, y/n. i meant that you can't make such sounds. so loudly, at that."

confusion struck you just as hard as the realization. you weren't thinking straight at all. call it the stress, fatigue, or lust, but it was all scrambling your train of thought and it was obvious since you hadn't even noticed the fact that Nanami was guiding you to stand as he still sat. he pulled you closer to him, one of his knees making its way between your parted legs. "take a seat, sweetheart. I've got a solution to that vocal mouth of yours."

you followed his words and took a seat right on his thigh, your legs straddling either side. Nanami admired you deeply and lustfully, yet he was able to keep his composure. you on the other hand, couldn't help but grind down just a bit at the lack of attention that you needed in certain areas. Nanami quirked an eyebrow at your actions, and while you wanted to feel regret for your impatience, you couldn't.

it simply felt too good.

"please touch me again, Nanami." you muttered, the feeling of yearn coming to you when you glanced at his hand that rested against your thigh. he only lifted your skirt, pushing the item further up to reveal your clothed sex. "let's keep you quiet for a bit, okay?" he muttered, his freehand meeting with your nape to pull your face down closer to his. your lips met after a small pause and Nanami pulled you in in mere seconds.

this new position allowed you to press your bud against his thigh and for Nanami to use his other hand to reach around you and pulling your panties to the side. the tips of his digits traced up and down your slit, making you moan into his mouth. he retreated his fingers just as swiftly and planted both of his hands on your waist, firmly gripping your flesh as a sigh fell onto your tongue.

you parted your lips as his tongue slid against your own. he griding your sex against his thigh, using your hips to control your body. a whimper escaped from you but he devoured it just in time for it to only be muffled. "I've needed you for so long, y/n."

this caught you off guard. you could've never imagined that Nanami would think such a thing and better yet say it to you. "everyday you show up to work, i can't help but drive myself insane just by thinking about you." he groaned, firmly holding your hips in place as he pulled back to look down at his slacks.

the dampened area just beneath your sex sent a wave of embarrassment over you and Nanami only let out a strained groan as he adjusted the growing tent of his lap. "stay quiet and make a mess for me, yeah?" you nodded to his words. "can you use your fingers again, Nanami?" the question was laced with impatience. you missed the feeling of his digits and he knew that. he motioned with your panties, lifting you with ease to remove the now bothersome article of clothing.

"anything you need, sweetheart. the purpose of this is to take some of that stress off of you afterall." Nanami wasted no time to guide his fingers to your sex, slowly inserting his fingers as you leaned forward to let out a moan into his shoulder. he withdrew them once before inserting them again. each time felt better than the last and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him as he pleased you better than you could even imagine.

you had a strong attraction to Nanami and it's lasted for weeks now. you'd always have theses fantasies about him whether you wanted to or not and neither of them could beat the standard that he was setting. "can't wait to feel you around me, sweetheart." his voice was low, rugged, and you could tell that his patience was slipping. if yours could be slipping and you were the center of his attention, you couldn't imagine how much he was holding back right now.

you saw the strain of his slacks. the way the material showed no mercy to hide the outline of his erection. "we don't have to wait." you finally spoke, pushing yourself up to hold his gaze. "please." you pled, using your hand to cup his jaw. he tried to read your expression, but the lust overpowered everything else.

you reached for his belt, undoing it and following that by unpinning the button of his slacks. in a swift movement, you pulled away his pants and his briefs, the last drop of patience leaving your being at the sight of him. you shifted when Nanami removed his fingers from your sex and in an attempt to finally get what you both wanted, you were stopped by Nanami as he grabbed your hand that was reaching for his length. "patience, sweetheart. take it slow. i don't want to hurt you."

"i can take it. please, Nanami." you couldn't count how many times that word had left your mouth tonight. Nanami gave you everything you asked for, yet you couldn't help but want more. all of him. despite your words, he knew that lust could be blinding so he shook his head, tone stern now. "slowly, y/n." he said.

a small pout was on you lips and he reached his hand up to your face, using his thump to swipe away your messed lip-gloss. "don't give me that look, sweetheart. i know you can take it. I'm not going anywhere until you feel satisfied so there's no rush." you nodded at his reassurance and he placed a supported hand underneath your thigh, helping you balance a bit better.

you kept yourself up on your knees as he gripped his length in a fist, holding your gaze as his tip prodded your entrance. he gently released your thigh just a bit, allowing you to sink down to engulf him with your warmth. he let out a moan through panting breaths, the thought of the people just down the hall leaving both of you guys' mind.

you let out a swear at the entirely new feeling and Nanami gently gripped your jaw so that you'd face him and hold his lustful gaze. he lowered you to sink down on him, both his and your lips parting as you let out a moan of pleasure. "you're so perfect like this, sweetheart." he managed to get out, his eyes admiring the way all of his length disappeared into your sex. he felt pure bliss and you clearly felt the same, given the way that your loudening whimpers began to heighten.

"yeah, you're handling it so well." he groaned as she tightened around him. Nanami help her hips, aiding her in riding him since she was too overstimulated to continue on her own. "so much." you mumbled as you leaned in to place a kiss to his jawline. he sighed from the action of affection and y/n began letting out smooth moans as he slowly lifted you from his length before your skin met with his lap once again.

"make a mess for me, sweetheart. i want to see how good I'm making you feel." he encouraged. you used whatever remains of energy you had to grind against him as you slick began to pool at the base of his erection. he gave you more, and like you have been when it comes to Nanami, all you could think was more. he knew this. he felt it in the way your movements sped up and heightened in incoordination.

he allowed it to happen for a period of time, but immediately stopped you when your moans grew. the whine that left your mouth came straight from your chest, making Nanami feel guilt immediately. "Nanami, why'd you stop? please don't stop." you whined, voice sounding like a broken cry. "i have to, sweetheart. you'll cum if i keep going and i can't have that because i want to taste you when you do."

with that, he quickly lifted you both from his seat and placed you to take his pace instead. he groaned as his length left the warmth of your sex. before you could retaliates, his knees met with the office's carpet and he wrapped both of his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs parted before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your bud in seconds. a pleasureful whine escaped from your chest and his tongue gathered your arousal, the sweet taste urging him to grip his length with a desperate fist. he groaned into your sex and he placed a stripe of your own arousal against your bud.

his lips latched around the sensitive area as his tongue showed you no messy despite your cries and pleas. you were getting what you wanted which was more.

"Nanami i-i'm-" your breath hitched in your throat. your legs threated to close around his head but he was firm with his grip, holding you in place. "close?" he finished your sentence. "i know. cum on my tongue, sweetheart. please."

without another beat, you did just that, your arousal coating his tongue in just mere seconds. your body jolted and shivered against him and Nanami continued past your limits. your moans filled the room and Nanami released an arm form around your thigh and used his hand to grip his length, moaning as he brought himself to his own high. his cum spurted onto the fabric of his slacks and onto his thigh.

your panting breaths were in quiet harmony with one another and you glanced at Nanami with a dazed expression. he stood up, checking the watch on his wrist before leaning down to your face.

"we made good time, sweetheart. thirty minute break was well spent."

my request are open for everyone! go ahead and drop one! ;)

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[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART ELEVEN)

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 3,5K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, talking about feelings

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

*Saturday, April 6th*

It was early in the morning when Oscar found himself seated in the meeting room. He wasn't alone, you, Zak & Sophie from the media team where there too. It was time for Oscar to get introduced to the one girl he absolutely did not want to meet. The one he was supposed to fake a relationship with.

The reason as to why you were there too, was Zak. He said something about it being important that you would meet the girl too, considering Oscar and you spend a lot of time together being his trainer. Zak pointed out that it would be practical for you to know some of the ins and outs as well.

Oscar looked around the room, his eyes landing on you, pressing his lip together. Almost as if he was silently apologizing to you, trying to not be obvious about the hidden knowledge between the two of you.

It was then when the door opened, a man and a woman walking in. She looked kind, she actually did. She was tall, skinny, had a slightly tanned skin & long brown locks. You could easily tell they tried to find someone with similar features to you, probably to make it more believable that it was her in those leaked pictures. She was pretty, very pretty. In your opinion, a lot more beautiful than you were. It stung a little, if you were being honest with yourself.

Oscar felt bad for you, for himself, but also for the other girl. Wondering if something similar brought her into this as well.

Zak's eyes lit up, a professional smile spreading across his lips. He stood up from his seat, gesturing to the man and woman to take a seat.

"Oscar, Sophie, Y/n, this is Ava, the lovely lady we told you about" he started, looking briefly at the lady. His eyes then shifted to the man next to her "And this is her manager, Liam" he continued.

Ava smiled kindly at all of you, first leaning over the table to hold her hand out to Oscar. He shook her hand and send her a polite smile "Nice to meet you, I'm Oscar, but you probably already knew that" he said, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

The brunette returned a smile "Likewise" she spoke, before moving her attention over to Sophie, introducing herself to her as well, before shifting her attention to you.

She held out her hand, her nails perfectly manicured. When you took her hand and shook it. She send you a smile.

"Nice to meet you!" you weakly spoke, your tone kind, but laced with an uncertainty "I'm Y/n, I'm Oscar's trainer and physio"

"That's lovely" she spoke with an honest smile.

"So, Liam and I have already talked a bit about what could be a plan" Sophie started, clearly not the one to have came up with this fake dating plan. She sounded as if she only said these things, because she had to.

Liam nodded, a smile on his face "We were thinking it might be a good start for Ava to be in the McLaren motorhome tomorrow during the grand prix. Maybe wearing something that's Oscar's, like a bracelet" he started, his attention shifting to Ava "Then maybe after the race, we could arrange for Oscar to walk by you briefly, maybe brushing your hands or him quickly hugging before he walks on?"

Oscar looked at Sophie and Liam, his breath catching in his throat. Not in a good way, but in a way that made him realize how real this all was getting "Y-Yeah.. sure"

Ava nodded "Sure, I think that could work"

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Oscar sat on the edge of the small couch in his driver's room, hands clasped loosely in his lap as he glanced at Ava. She was perched on the other end, her posture relaxed but attentive. Her kind smile didn't quite reach her eyes, though, and Oscar could tell she was just as unsure about this arrangement as he was.

"So," he started, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "This is... definitely a strange situation to be in."

Ava let out a soft laugh, nodding. "You can definitely say that, yes. It's not every day you agree to fake date someone you barely know."

Oscar's lips twitched into a small, half-hearted smile. "True. I mean, I get why it's necessary, but it's still... weird." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Did you get into this in the same way?"

She tilted her head, considering his question. "Something like that. It's complicated, I guess."

Oscar nodded, his mind flashing to the conversation with his manager, the pressure of the rumors swirling around him and you. But he didn't want to get into all that. Not with Ava, not yet.

"Yeah, I get that," he said, leaning back a little. "I'm sure we both have our reasons for agreeing to this."

Ava's smile softened. "I'm not really one for drama, to be honest. But sometimes you just have to play along, right?"

Oscar chuckled lightly. "Yeah, exactly. I'm not a fan of all this PR stuff, either. But, I guess it's part of the job sometimes."

They shared a brief, understanding look, the tension between them easing slightly. Ava shifted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "So, how do you want to play this?"

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "Well, we don't have to overdo it. Just enough to make it believable. We can show up together to events, act friendly—like we're getting to know each other. I don't think anyone expects us to be all over each other."

"Agreed," Ava said, relief in her voice. "I think we should just be ourselves, but maybe add a bit more... I don't know, closeness? Like we're actually interested in each other."

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. We don't want it to look obviously fake."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the awkwardness from earlier gradually fading. Oscar found himself relaxing a bit more around her. She was easy to talk to, and he appreciated her straightforwardness. Though she was not you.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" Ava asked, her tone light but curious.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, this is a first for me. Feels a bit like acting, doesn't it?"

Ava laughed softly. "Yeah, but without a script. We'll have to improvise."

"I'm not great at improvising," Oscar admitted with a playful grin.

"Well, good thing I'm here then, perks of being an actress" Ava teased gently. "I'll cover for you."

"Thanks," he said, his smile growing. "I appreciate that."

They lapsed into another easy silence, and Oscar found himself feeling grateful that Ava wasn't making this harder than it needed to be. Despite the odd circumstances, she seemed genuinely kind, and that put him at ease.

"Let's just take it one step at a time," Ava said finally. "We'll figure this out."

"Yeah," Oscar agreed. "One step at a time."

As they sat there, sharing a quiet moment in the midst of all the chaos outside, Oscar couldn't help but think that maybe this wouldn't be so bad. As long as he could keep things clear between them—and with the reader—he could get through this. And, with any luck, things would settle down soon enough.

After that they spend some time getting to know each other, just so it wouldn't be awkward when they would have to do interviews. He learned that Ava was 22 years old and born in Australia, but moved to the UK at a young age, something Oscar and her had in common. Ava told Oscar that she had started acting when she was just a kid, so she kinda rolled her way in it when she was young.

Oscar, on his turn, told her about his hobbies outside of F1. He told her about you. Explaining that you have been best friends for a while, leaving out the detail of your feelings for each other. Not wanting to break his promise to you.

"She's the girl you hooked up with according to the media, right?" she asked, honestly interested.

Oscar stayed silent, but did give her a soft nod.

"That explains the awkward look you both had in the meeting" she replied with a laugh "Let me guess, shit-faced drunk?"

Oscar laughed "Pretty much covers it, yes" he stated, scratching the back of his neck.

Ava send him a compassionate smile, folding her hands in her lap "So, let me get this straight" she started, a chuckle leaving her lips "The girl you kissed is not only your trainer, she's also your best friend. And to top it off, she's also your teammates sister"

Oscar shrugged "Yep"

"Yeah, that makes it all a whole lot more complicated" she laughed.

Ava then leaned back on the couch a little, looking back up at Oscar "Before I forget to ask. Liam mentioned that it maybe would be smart to discuss our boundaries. You know, considering the things we have to do. Affectionate wise"

Oscar looked back at the other Aussie, then shifting his gaze to his lap. Time for the awkward stuff, he thought.

"I'm fine with anything to be honest, I'm used to it all considering my job. So if you're up for it, I'm fine with kissing, if that helps convince the public eye"

Oscar felt a tight knot forming in his stomach as Ava brought up the topic of boundaries. He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt as he avoided her gaze. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be convincing in this whole fake dating scenario—it was just that every time he thought about doing anything more than the basics, guilt hit him like a punch to the gut. Your face flashed in his mind, and he swallowed hard.

“Yeah, um,” he started, voice a little shaky, “I guess we should talk about that.”

Ava nodded, her expression calm and open. “I know this is weird, and I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of putting on a show either, but if we’re going to do this, we should be on the same page.”

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m… I’m kind of socially awkward, to be honest. I mean, I’m fine with doing some stuff, like, a hug or holding hands maybe. A kiss on the cheek is okay too, I guess. But anything more than that—” He hesitated, his heart thudding in his chest. “I just… I don’t know.”

Ava tilted her head slightly, her eyes gentle. “That’s fine, Oscar. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. This whole thing is just acting, right? We can take it slow, one step at a time.”

He glanced at her, grateful for her understanding. But even as she spoke, he couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you. You hadn’t exactly defined what you were, but the thought of pretending to be with someone else, even just for show, made his chest ache.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, looking down at his lap. “It’s just… complicated, you know?”

Ava seemed to pick up on his unease, leaning forward slightly. “Hey, I get it. Really. But you can trust me, okay? I’m not here to make things harder for you. We’ll go at your pace. And if it ever gets too much, just let me know, and we’ll dial it back.”

Her words were sincere, and he found himself relaxing a little, but the nagging feeling of guilt still lingered. He knew she was right—it was just acting, and it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, the idea of kissing Ava, even if it was just for show, felt wrong. Like he was betraying something fragile and precious between the two of you.

“But, if you’re up for it,” Ava continued cautiously, “a real kiss could help sell it. But only if you’re okay with it. We don’t have to, Oscar. Not if you don’t want to.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew she was just trying to be professional about the whole thing, but it still felt like a rock was sitting on his chest. “I know, it probably is… I just have to think about it, I guess. It’s not that I don’t want to be convincing, it’s just—”

“You’re not comfortable with it,” Ava finished for him gently. “That’s okay. We can stick to hugs, holding hands and kissing each others cheek.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, giving her a weak smile. “I appreciate that.”

"I just suggested it, since in the pictures that got leaked, it all seemed pretty intense. So I thought, that might sell it a little better, but.." Ava smiled back, her eyes soft. “We’ll figure this out, Oscar. Just remember, this is all for show. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He nodded, though he couldn’t quite shake the unease. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he also couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him. He needed to tread carefully, not just for the sake of the act, but for the sake of whatever it was between you and him. And maybe, just maybe, he could get through this without messing everything up.

"I gotta go now, tho. Liam needed me for something around this time" Ava spoke as she looked at her phone, her voice soft and understanding.

"Yeah, of course. Thanks again" Oscar replied, not moving from his spot on the couch.

Ava stood up, but not before bending down over the couch, kissing Oscar gently on his cheek "Well, see you later, boyfriend" she said, before sending him a cheeky wink and leaving the room.

*Later that day*

A few hours had passed, and you found yourself sprawled out on the couch in Lando's hotel room. The evening had been spent in casual conversation with your brother over dinner, discussing random topics that flitted in and out of your minds. But now, the silence in the room was thick, heavy with unspoken words. Lando had noticed your shift in behavior, the way you’d grown quieter, more introspective, and it was starting to concern him.

He watched you carefully, his brow furrowed with worry. The quiet stretched on, and eventually, he broke it, his voice gentle but insistent. “You know you can always talk to me if something’s bothering you, right? That’s what big brothers are for,” he pointed out, his eyes soft as they searched your face for a clue.

You swallowed hard, your gaze darting away from his. The guilt gnawed at you, the weight of the secret you’d been keeping pressing down on your chest. Lando knew some things, sure, but he didn’t know the whole truth about you and Oscar. The part where you and Oscar had crossed that line from friends to something more, something you hadn’t been ready to share with anyone else yet. And keeping that from Lando, of all people, made you feel terrible.

“You’ve just been different,” Lando continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, tinged with the slightest hint of disappointment. “You’re so silent. Normally, you always tell me everything. Is it the whole fake-dating thing that Oscar has to do?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt a pang of anxiety ripple through you. “No?” The word slipped out, but it sounded more like a question than the firm denial you wished it could be.

Lando rolled his eyes, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone. “Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?” he pointed out, leaning back slightly as he observed you with that perceptive gaze of his.

You sighed deeply, sinking into the couch in defeat. There was no point in pretending anymore; Lando could always see right through you. “Ugh, fine,” you huffed, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “To answer your question... Technically, no, but also yes.”

Lando raised an eyebrow at you, silently urging you to elaborate. The way he looked at you, with that mixture of concern and patience, made it even harder to keep things hidden. Another sigh escaped your lips as you met his gaze, knowing you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I get why he has to do it,” you began, your voice low and tinged with frustration. “The reasoning behind it makes sense. Besides, it means nothing—it’s just a business deal.”

Lando nodded slowly, waiting for you to continue. He could sense there was more, much more, that you needed to get off your chest.

“But…” you trailed off, your voice catching in your throat. You hesitated, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. Admitting it out loud made it all too real, and that terrified you. But Lando was patient, his presence steady and comforting, like an anchor you could cling to in the storm of your emotions.

“But it’s complicated,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. “Oscar and I… We’ve been trying things. We decided to give it a shot, you know, without labels. And it felt great, Lando. It really did. But then, not even a week later, this whole fake dating thing comes up, and it just… sucks.”

Lando’s expression softened even more, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he listened intently. You could see the concern in his eyes, but there was also an unspoken encouragement there, urging you to keep going.

“It sucks because… because I wish things weren’t so complicated,” you continued, your hands wringing together in your lap as you struggled to put your feelings into words. “He’s your teammate, I’m your sister, and we work together. It’s already a mess. And now with this PR stunt… I can’t help but wish I could just allow myself to fully be his. But I can’t. It’s like… I’m holding myself back.”

Lando reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, comforting, and it made you feel a little less alone in your confusion. “You’re in love with him,” he stated softly, more of a realization than a question.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “Yeah, I am. Honestly, I’m so in love with Oscar. But I’m scared, Lando. Scared of what happens if we make it real. What if it all goes wrong?”

Lando’s thumb brushed gently against your shoulder, a small gesture that carried so much understanding. “You know, sometimes things are worth the risk,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “If you’re both feeling this way, then it’s real, with or without a label. And sometimes, putting a label on it doesn’t change anything—it just makes it easier to define what you have.”

You looked at him, biting your lip as you considered his words. “Maybe,” you murmured, “but it’s still scary. And then there’s Zak, and the team… I just don’t want to make things harder for Oscar.”

“Have you thought about talking to Zak?” Lando suggested gently. “Maybe it wouldn’t be as big of a deal as you think. And Oscar’s strong, he can handle this. You don’t have to carry it all on your own.”

You nodded slowly, the idea swirling in your mind. Maybe Lando was right. Maybe talking to Zak could ease some of the pressure. But there was still that gnawing insecurity that wouldn’t leave you alone.

“I thought about it, but I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do. Also, the PR thing might be the solution to, you know, fix things,” you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I understand why it’s necessary, and I don’t mind it too much, not really. But it still sucks. It sucks to see the person you love having to act like that in front of the cameras with someone who’s not you. Someone who’s way prettier, someone who wouldn’t make everything so complicated.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he squeezed your shoulder gently. “Are you afraid he’ll fall for her during this PR stunt? That you’ll lose him?”

You let out a shaky breath, the question hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “I guess I am,” you whispered. “I definitely trust him. I know he wouldn’t do anything, but… I’d understand if he did. It would be less complicated with someone like her, and besides, we don’t have any labels. He doesn’t owe me anything.”

Lando shook his head slightly, his expression firm. “Oscar is head over heels for you, sis. I’ve seen the way he looks at you—there’s no way he’d want to look at anyone else like that. Not even for a second.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the cold fears that had been gnawing at you. You took a deep breath, letting the tension in your shoulders ease just a little. “Thanks, Lando,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of gratitude.

“Anytime,” he replied, pulling you into a gentle hug. You rested your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his breathing. The conversation wasn’t easy, but it had been necessary, and now, with Lando’s support, you felt a little more prepared to face whatever came next.

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor

[m0chisenpai]

Hi, could you do a Louis x Fem!reader x Armand? Like something where they are both obsessed with her and maybe she a little oblivious even tho they give her what ever she wants. I love your others too by the way.🫶🏼

desires of the heart

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which she has two immortals wrapped around her little finger

Author note: this sounds similarish to a loumand fic I got previously so I’m gonna build onto that one

Time in the penthouse seems to move slower. The days and nights felt blurred from adjusting your schedule to the ‘vampires’ Daniel interviews. And with each passing day, more and more do the vampires find themselves falling deeper into your heart.

You had their own dead ones in the palm of your hand yet you remained so oblivious to it.

But on top of this you find yourself spending your time less in your room and more in their company.

“Those books, are the older ones right?” You watch Armand hover above in the collection looking for more pictures of Claudia for your personal “research”.

“Yes, some of these are beyond your time,” he looks down at you slowly allowing himself to settle in front of you. You push your frames back up the bridge of your nose so you can properly look at the elder vampire.

“Can I see them?”

Louis watches amused from his seat as Armand holds you close to show you the books. Slowly he glides back u with you in his arms following your direction till you pick a small stack to sit with Louis and look through.

These are older photographs from his years in New Orleans.

"Aw what happened to the fro?" you pout as Louis pulls a family picture out.

"Times were different," Louis rolls his eyes as you scoff. You page through the album carefully.

"Is that him?" your eyes settle on a duo picture, him and his brother side by side. Louis can only nod, his lips pressed in a line as you stare. "He was handsome. Sweetheart, I can tell by how he's looking at you here in this one."

Before Louis can respond one f the workers has entered. Interrupting your bubble of peace. "Mr.Molloy has requested you in his room."

Armand's face immediately ices over into a glare, his response fiery. "Tell Mr.Molloy if he wishes for his help to return he can come and get them himself. She is not a dog."

"It's alright, the old fart does this all the time in the offices." You go to stand stretching your arms overhead and quickly rubbing your forearms for friction. You're cold, Louis observes the goosebumps across your freckled shoulders from the slouch neck sweater you wear.

When you are are out of ear shot Louis speaks to the worker.

"Have the shoppers come in tomorrow morning for Mr.Molloy's intern. The girl needs proper clothing."

Much to Daniel's distaste. you are like a child in a candy shop pointing to sweaters from Ralph Lauren's upcoming fall collection. But he hides his distaste giving you a smile when you happily show hi the sweater that was 'giving Rory Gilmore but I wear it better.' Armand sits watching as you soar through racks and picking your items of choice.

You hesitate when a woman approaches holding a cases of lenses, "we offer these in prescription of course."

"Oh no these are fine."

"Pick one." Armand finally speaks up. When you look at him he is now sitting up, but the way he sits with his legs crossed, an arm draped across the back while the other rests atop his knee. His eyes a show of dominance, as if daring you to say no to him.

You settle on a thick marbled brown pair. But he stands to move in front of you, picking up a few for you to try. You try on several till you are pushing his hands away.

"The jade green ones as well as the golden wired ones for her," you grumble watching as he picks up the two for the woman to box. "We will have your prescription sent as soon as possible."

"Thank you but, this a bit much for a few days stay."

"We have no issue providing you your comforts whilst you work on the novel."

"Ok but-"

He raises a bro that silences any opposition. When you offer no more pushback, Armand places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the women who begin to drape you in abayas and scarves for your hair.

You're nearing the end of the interviews. You can tell cause they spend any bit of time of the days glued to your side. You don't bring it up, you accidentally mentioned it in passing to Louis and his entire demeanor once so warm and gentle became...rigid.

He sits beside you on the couch now. Watching you listen and take notes.

These days he's more brazen in his affections. Sitting closer, allowing his hand to linger when he passes your chai, playing with the baby curls at the nape of your neck. But there is something even more intimate as he sits across from you, watching you.

"Gonna keep staring me down like a creep?"

His lips perk up, "sorry cher. Just memorizing your face."

Your fingers stop typing, your train of thought halts for a second till they both return at the steady pace you had going.

"Can a vampire love?"

"I believe we feel immensely. Everything feels...deeper. Almost too much."

"But if your entire being is dead, what is it that allows you to feel again?"

Ah, that mind of yours. Louis loved it deeply. His eyes flicker to his joined palms till they return on you.

"I've heard stories, seen elder vampires that lived many lifetimes take their life because of the loneliness. At times, I myself felt it. Had our feelings died with us, then I do not think they would put an end to themselves."

You nod, pausing for a moment again.

"I feel it too," you pause for a moment, "it's the worst."

Though Louis respects your boundaries, he feels the buzz in your bones. A desire sitting on your lips. “What do you need?” It comes out as a whisper, yet it feels so loud.

And your response is just as quiet, “can you hold me. Please.”

Louis is beside you in an instant. The laptop shut and atop the table, and he is holding you close. Your eyes slowly fall shut as you wrap your arms back around him. He pulls you atop him.

You feel complete again, so whole.