#he wants every moment in the sun that he can get

[amywritesthings]

Hi love!! Can I ask for some fluff with our man when we are still in bed, waking up and just talking about future? Like Levi's dream of owning a tea shop is so cute

i got you xo

window shopping.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 880 warnings: 18+ mdni, light oral sex (f!receiving), naked laying in bed, overall fluff and banter, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: divider by @saradika-graphics

"Nice to Mint You."

You're met with deep, disappointed silence.

"Jasmine-d to Meet You."

An unimpressed baritone groan rumbles against your cheek.

"...that really the best you got?"

It takes everything in you not to vibrate from your own amusement, knowing damn well that Levi's eyes must be glued to the back of his head from how hard he's rolling them in exasperation.

With pursed lips, you nuzzle your cheek back into the soft bare expanse of his chest. "...nice to... matcha—"

"Enough."

The dam breaks, and you're left bursting into quiet giggles when his strong hand pulls you closer to his body.

Easily you mold closer, gliding a palm along the flex of his abdomen until your arm has returned to its original place. Your fingers tickle the curve of his torso, barely brushing the white sheets below.

To think the two of you once lived a life where you couldn't spend the twilight hours of the day like this: in a proper bed with proper sheets and pillows; left to talk about nothing, nonsense, until the sun came up and you returned to his shadow.

Lieutenant and Captain.

"What?" you feign innocence, lifting your head to observe the miniscule scowl pinching his eyes to a narrow. "Every tea shop on the surface has a punny name."

"Not if they have a bit of damn self respect, they don't," he mumbles, still idly tracing circles into the flesh of your upper arm.

"I'm wounded."

"I'm sure you are." Caught red-handed in a lie; a grin stretches your mouth, causing his eyes to narrow further. "Brat."

"I'd rather be a brat than boring."

"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, voice still an octave lower from just waking up. "Is that what I am to you? Boring?"

"A real snooze."

You lie again, but you're persuaded otherwise when that hand on your arm snakes between flesh to tickle under your armpit. Immediately you jolt, trying to keep your voice down as you protest in panic.

"No! No, I'm kidding, don't, I'm sorry—"

"Shhh."

Levi pushes forward, landing in a position hovering above you. The arm that was once wrapped around your body now rises so his palm can cradle your face.

"So goddamn loud," he reprimands without heat. "You wanna wake up the rest of the shitheads?"

"As if they don't already know," you protest with a sigh, relaxing once you're certain he isn't about to launch an attack.

"They don't."

"Uh-huh."

For a moment, you stare. Focus, on the way his black fringe messily hangs over his stormy eyes. He's grown out his hair whether he'll admit it or not. You often find yourself wondering that it could look like longer.

"I'm losing you," he states, bringing you back to the present with him. "What's on your mind?"

You blink back into your body and really look into his eyes.

When you once dreamed about coming to the surface, you thought a thunderstorm would best these eyes. You've seen over a dozen storms at this point. None have ever compared.

"The fact that you don't wanna name your tea shop something cute."

"Who said I wanted to own one?"

"As if you wouldn't cream yourself at the idea of getting good, quality leaves to put the rest of the Walls to shame." Your brows slide high on your forehead. "Am I wrong?"

A pause settles.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

"Tch. It's not gonna have a cute name."

"Then what do you wanna name it?"

Lifting your chin, the tip of your nose grazes his.

"Indulge me."

"Fine. Got one."

"Sure."

His legs slide under the thin sheet to hook around yours. You lift your hips and shift with him to accommodate the press of his body.

For the longest time he stares, studying you, before finally mumbling three words.

"...Humanity's Strongest Brew."

He must sense you're about to howl, because his hand leaps off of your cheek to press full against your mouth. And he's right to do it: you nearly betray your location by laughing outright, head tilted back.

"S'funny to you, huh?" he grunts.

"Mmm!"

Trying to speak, to tell him that you're good, you won't alert the neighboring scouts, you wave a hand in his face. His gaze narrows to slits before eventually letting up.

"I swear, James—"

"No!" you interrupt in a whisper, fighting demons to conceal your giggles. "No, it's amazing. I'm serious."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it, Levi! But — shit, if you thought my puns were bad—"

"I'm done talking," he decides, kissing between your breasts. "Gonna make you pay for laughing."

"Wait!"

He makes a point to crawl down your body, kissing a trail of sloppy kisses at the middle of your ribcage to your belly button.

"I promise you, it's a great name."

He answers by grabbing the edge of the sheet and ripping it over his head, disappearing under the fabric.

"Levi—"

When he hooks your left thigh over his shoulder and dives in to bury his face against your center, you gasp sharply and grab the pillow behind your head. He hums against your clit, satisfied by the silence.

"Not laughing so hard now, huh?"

Before you can answer, he dives back in to devour his breakfast.

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

If it is too much trouble could you write about Bián huá grooming Yuán Fèn after a big battle

When traveling, one gets dirty, and one doesn't have much time to clean themselves

Bajie would no doubt have fun at the youngster's expense 

"It's not necessary!"

"Yes, yes, it is. You stink." You smelled a little in your armpit; your nose frowned. "And so am I."

He looked around; the fog of the hotspring didn't give him enough visual of his surroundings, and that couldn't give you both a disadvantage in a fight. But the hot water... it was tempting.

He scratched his arm, but it was the nervousness that made him do that. To be honest, all of his body was in an itching mess, especially after your last mission.

You both had been on the road for some time, and you were returning from Yellow Wind Ridge. The sun, the bugs, the sand—you both were in need of a bath, and Yuán fèn? He needed a good grooming session. You could see the small flies jumping here and there on his furr, and trying to help himself wasn't helpful.

So, when you spotted the hotspring, you had an idea... that he regretted the moment you started to remove the upper part of your clothes.

"I can't smell anything! What if someone attacks us?!"

"Bajie is around, so it won't be a problem for now."

"I can do it by myself! I don't need you to help me with a grooming session!"

"You can't reach every part! Come on, you've been bathing with your sister when you were young!"

"That's... not the problem..." He mumbled, his cheeks and ears tinted in a soft shade of pink. You kept your top, and what it was supposed to be was a pair of boxers, so you weren't completely naked, you still had some privacy, and you immerged one foot in the warm water. 

"Off your clothes now."

"Do I have it?"

"I can't clen your back with your garmet on!" You try to reach his belt, but only to meet hair when he dodges and starts to oanick.

"Okay okay! I can do it myself!"

When he finally decided to get in the water, he kept his pants on, refusing to let you see more of his exposed body. By the movements of his tail, he must have been quite nervous. Despite the protests, the complaints, and his whining, in the right moment the warm waters of the spring touched his malnourished skin, a sigh of relief emanating from him. It was true; he really needed that, but he never said that he needed your assistance!

Sitting on a rock behind him, and with the help of a comb, you started to tend to his mane and skin, trying to catch every parasite or insect that had the luck to escape from the boiling.

He said that wasn't necessary. His skin was full of scratches and deep cute from his long and sharp nails. Scabs and new cute here and there, some lnots of fur that couldn't be reached, dandruff... Unnecessary your ass! He was a mess!

"Look at you. If you needed so much, you could just ask!"

"I didn't want to delay the mission." He mumbled, trying to clean his arm from more dust and dirt. The water had some spots from what was removed from him.

"It's a noble gest, but if you end up like this, then it's not a delay at all. Here, I'll do the head now."

You helped yourself with your bowl by pouring some of the water on his head, letting him lean against your tights. You started to scratch gently with the comb his furr, freeing him from more fleas and dead hair.

"Next time, let's bring some soap. It will help. We can even take out time and stay in a bath house."

"..."

"We can even deal with the money?....I mean, how many ingested bath houses can be found?"

"..."

"... Yuán fèn? Are you listening?"

Oh, how much he needed It. To the point that he completely lost consciousness. The water, the warmth, your soft skin, the head scratch... his senses were completely out. Then, you felt something, like a small vibration, coming from...

No, it couldn't be...

You brought your head nearer, avoiding sudden movements, and you felt it.

He was purring.

You had to cover your mouth to avoid to giggles and squeals for your new find out discovery.

Since when he was able to do that?! OOOHHH, how much you wish that your phone hadn't died a few days ago. After your arrival, you would love to have some videos of him like this!

You continued the session, enjoying the fact that he was literally melting in your hands. You both were completely in the moment when

"Enjoying the evening, are we?"

Bajie's voice was cracking by the laughter of the scene. The surprise of his sudden arrival caused your fall in the water, resulting in you gasping for air and him losing his balance on your legs, receiving a head bump on the rock.

You all left the hotspring for the night, with Bajie making some remarks about the sweet scene that he had witnessed, Yuán Fèn that still massaged his head, and you wondering how to make that monkey purr again.

@sun-jglim

@sleepingdramaqueen

@crimsonflameproxy

@everlastingmoonlightsworld

@biankanoir

@certifiedsimpinggalorempinggalore

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers

@cinnamonroll-anon

@justrandomlypassing

@cute-angi @luckyangelballoon

@dressycobra7 @naarra

@virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau

@szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl

@sleepydang @weaverworks

@kishimiest @marcu-bug

[eroselless]

PATO - SEVEN

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS

warnings: angst

note: HI LOVES! I am so so sorry its taken me so long to get this out. I had some troubles with motivation and stupid writers block but as soon as I was able to get it going, I got it. Thank you all so much for you patience and continued support <3

BRAZIL, NOVEMBER 2024

The sun sets over the circuit, long shadows shifting under the dimming light, the sound of cars zooming past reverberating through the air. The crowd around the circuit erupts in cheers as the final lap begins, a new wave of excitement rolling through the sea of red Ferrari flags. The tension is palpable as each turn pushes the drivers to their limits.

You stand near the pit wall, Lucero perched on your hips. She plays with the strands of your hair, occasionally tugging at the earrings you forgot to take off that morning. Your heart races with the roar of the cars as you watch the screen in front of you. The mechanics and engineers around you shift nervously, their eyes glued to the screen tracking the final moments of the race. Carlos’s car is a bright red blur, expertly maneuvering the last few corners. He is leading, and he’s nearing the finish line.

"¡Vamos, Carlos!" a mechanic shouts, his voice lost in the cacophony of engines and the cheers of the crew. The tension in the pit lane merges with the anticipation on the track. You can all see it—victory is so close.

The radio crackles with team communications as Lucero squirms in your arms, fascinated by the spectacle, her eyes wide at the noise of cars zooming by, completely unaware of the significance of the moment.

“Baba,” she babbles as she hears his voice echo through the paddock, her small voice a little clearer than before. The word hits you like a warm wave—a mixture of joy and something you can’t quite place yet. She has taken to calling him that, not yet able to say papa, but now it falls from her lips with more confidence than it did a few days ago.

You watch as Carlos rounds the last corner, sending the Ferrari pit into an explosion of celebration. He crosses the finish line first, the checkered flag waving in the air like a beacon of victory. Your heart soars with emotion, your body buzzing with the shared joy of the crowd. The paddock becomes a flurry of activity—engineers, mechanics, and team members shouting, hugging, clapping, and celebrating. Lucero giggles in your arms, imitating the others as she claps along joyfully.

The team ushers you out to meet Carlos as he slows his car into parc fermé, coming to a complete stop. He pulls himself out with ease, pumping his arms up into the air as he stands triumphantly on his car. His arms are outstretched, as though he’s trying to absorb every bit of energy the crowd offers him. He did it. He’s a winner again. It wasn’t just a victory; it was a statement.

You see it in his eyes as he pulls off his helmet and turns toward you, his gaze locking on the crowd of Ferrari red waiting for him. He sprints toward the barricade, right to where you’re standing. The press swarms, photographers snapping photos as he closes the distance, but he doesn’t care. They can speculate all they want—about him, about you, about Lucero.

When he reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate. His hands cradle your cheeks as he lifts your face toward his, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that is both celebratory and claiming. He breathes you in before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. His skin is slightly damp against yours when he does. Lucero squeals in delight as he pulls both of you into an embrace, arms circling around you and Lucero in a tight, protective hold. The cameras flash around your small group, murmurs filtering through the crowd.

But in this moment, neither of you care about the spectacle. This is his little victory, with his little family.

"Mi amor," he whispers breathlessly, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. There’s a softness there, a vulnerability you’ve come to cherish, and it overwhelms you. The heat of his affection feels as potent as the Brazilian sun beating down on you.

Lucero wiggles in your arms, laughing as Carlos takes her, holding her high in the air, earning another giggle. It sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach, your heart swelling with emotion once again.

The roar of engines continues as the other cars finish the race. Lando crosses the line in second, Charles bringing his car home shortly after in third. The podium is set—Carlos, Lando, and Charles. It would have been perfect if the tension just below the surface wasn’t beginning to ripple.

As Charles comes to a stop in parc fermé, his gaze finds you celebrating—Carlos all wrapped in your presence, arms around you, beaming at the baby girl in his arms. The sight pierces through him, an unexpected pang of something sharp and unsettling. Jealousy? Maybe. Or maybe it’s regret. What he could’ve had is playing out in front of him—the woman he once loved with his child, in the arms of another man, celebrating a win he had so badly yearned for. That could’ve been his, had things gone differently. If he had done things differently.

He removes his helmet once out of his car, his heart pounding with something other than the rush of the race. As he stands there for a second, he finds he can’t tear his eyes away from the small family huddled together, completely oblivious to the reporters and photographers circling them.

He watches as you beam up at Carlos, your eyes swelling with joyful tears as he continues holding Lucero. He recognizes the look on your face, a look he’d once seen directed at him, long ago. He catches Carlos’s eye across the paddock. There’s no smugness, no malice in his gaze, just a quiet acknowledgment. We’re here now, his eyes seem to say. This is how things are.

It feels more complicated for Charles. Is he envious of Carlos? Or is it seeing you again—the woman he had loved, maybe still loves, and the child that could’ve been a part of his life from the beginning? He can’t place it exactly, but the sight of Lucero babbling in Carlos’s arms twists something deep in his chest. Lucero looks so much like him—the same wispy golden-brown hair, the same blue-green eyes. She is a miniature version of him, yet she clings to Carlos like he’s her world.

Charles stands frozen for a moment, watching as Carlos hands Lucero back to you, kissing both of you before stepping into the arms of the team.

“Charles!” one of the mechanics calls, breaking him from his reverie. He tears his eyes away from the three of you, forcing a smile as he walks toward his team. They greet him with enthusiasm, engulfing him in a sea of high-fives and hugs. His mind is elsewhere, lost in images of what could’ve been.

As the celebrations continue, the podium ceremony looming closer, you can feel the tension between the two men simmering beneath the surface. You can feel Charles’s gaze on you, how it lingers. You can feel how Carlos instinctively leans toward you and Lucero whenever Charles comes near. Though you’ve agreed to prioritize Lucero’s well-being, how long would it take for these feelings to reach a boiling point and spill over?

Lucero tugs at your sleeve, bringing you back to the present. You look down at your daughter, who hasn’t even noticed the tension building around her. Children have a way of simplifying things that adults complicate. For Lucero, there is no battle for affection, no jealousy to sort through. She has you and Carlos. But you can’t help but feel the tightening coil in your chest. Charles has missed out on so much of Lucero’s first year, and now he’s trying to be present. But where does that leave Carlos, who has stepped into the role so seamlessly, becoming papa without hesitation?

Your thoughts are cut off by the announcer calling out Carlos' name. Lucero squeals once again as Carlos takes his spot on the top step, eyes closed and face angled up toward the sky. When he opens them again, they find yours, a bright sparkle shining in them. The crowd chants his name, and for a moment, everything feels right again.

But as Charles passes by on his way to the third step, his eyes find yours as well. There’s no hiding the emotions swirling in him—regret, longing, confusion. He quickly turns away, his jaw tightening as the champagne bottles are handed out. Oh, what he’d give to see you here, with your daughter, cheering his name instead.

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The crowd roars around you as the three men raise the bottles of champagne into the air. The spray from Carlos’s bottle catches the golden light of the setting sun, creating a shimmering halo as the liquid spray around him. Lando follows suit, laughing as he chases Carlos with a playful spray. Charles, though holding his bottle aloft, is quieter—less involved. The celebratory atmosphere to him felt muted, a blur of flashing lights and loud cheers. The taste of victory, third place, tastes bitter in his mouth. 

As the champagne spray over them as they bask in the moment, Lucero claps her little hands together, echoing the excitement of the crowd. Her calls for baba seem to cut through the air, rising over the noise of the crowd. Carlos’s face softens as he finds you in the crowd, finding her safely nestled in your arms. 

The men step away from the podium and Carlos makes his way down to you, wiping champagne from his brow. The crowd seems to part as he nears, giving you space. The noise seems to filter away as he pulls you into his arms again, earning a squeal from you as his soaked racing suit comes in contact with you. 

He reached out, gently stroking Lucero’s cheek, fingers lingering there for a moment. “You were cheering me on, weren’t you, mi pato?” he says softly, a boyish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Lucero giggles, reaching up for him with both hands. It’s impossible not to melt at the sight of them together.

Her laughter continues to fill the air as Carlos is swept away into some post-race duties, interviews and such. You can see Charles from the corner of your eye, lingering in the background. His racesuit now hangs from his waist, the third place cap securely on his head. It is obvious–his reluctance to leave, his need for something unspoken. A deep breath escapes you as you realize there’s no way of avoiding this. 

He approaches you, voice soft and tentative as he calls out for you. You greet him shyly, not sure if you should hug him now. You stand there for a moment, letting the weight of everything between you settle in the air.

“You were great out there,” you finally say, your voice quiet, measured. “Lucero and I, we were both watching.” his eyes flicker to his daughter, expressing softening jut for a second. 

He steps a little closer, his eyes never leaving Lucero. “Does she…” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “Does she know who I am?”

The question hangs in the air between you like a fragile thread. You glance at Lucero, who is babbling contentedly in your arms, oblivious to the tension around her. You swallow hard before answering.

“She’s still young, Charles. She doesn’t fully understand everything yet.”

He nods, but you can see the pain in his eyes. He steps closer still, his voice barely a whisper. “But she will, right? One day, she’ll know that… that I’m her father?”

The question sends a wave of emotion crashing over you. You hadn’t expected this conversation to happen here, now, in the midst of the celebrations. But you can’t avoid it any longer. You look up at him, your heart heavy with the weight of the truth.

“She’ll know,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “But it’s… complicated.” he nods, eyes full of sadness and yearning. 

“I’m sorry I never told you,” you say gently. “I won’t keep her from you anymore but that doesn’t change everything we’ve been through.” You mean the arguments, the late nights you waited up for him. All the tears you shed for him and the heartbreak that came with boarding the fate train to Spain, you and Carlos. Charles knows this, a pain flickering in his chest as he nods sadly. 

“I get it,” he says. “But it still stings.” 

Your response is halted when Lucero reaches for Charles, babbling softly as she stretches her tiny arms toward him. His face softened immediately, and he stepped closer, gently taking her into his arms. 

You knew they looked alike but the similarities are so much more obvious now that she’s cradled in his arms. Her smile is timid as she plays with the decals of his fireproofs. Her eyes crinkle just like his, her hair reminiscent of his at the same age. 

“You two are almost like twins,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch them. A smile paints Charles’s lips, it's one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his gaze far away. “She does.” though there was so much of him that he saw in her, he could see you. In the way the baby scrunched her nose, in how her eyes lit up and how she laughed seemed to capture everyone’s attention. It was what made him fall in love with you in the first place. 

The tension between you hung in the air, unspoken words and unresolved feelings swirling around like the last remnants of a storm. Charles’s gaze flickers back to yours, and for a second, you see something in his eyes that makes your heart ache—regret, maybe. Or longing for something that was lost. But you had no desire to go back to that place, to that time when you were the one waiting for him to notice, to care for you.

He had Alexandra now. And you had Carlos.

Carlos reappears, a bright smile on his face as he joins the two of you. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you in for a tight hug. He lets go, a bittersweet smile as he sees Charles holding Lucero. 

“Looks like she’s making new friends,” Carlos said lightly, though there was a slight edge to his voice, his gaze lingering on Charles for a moment longer than necessary.

Charles gives him a tightlipped smile, handing Lucero back to you, nodding as he stepped back. “She’s incredible. You’re lucky.”

Carlos’s grip on you tightens just slightly, and you could feel the tension between the two men—the unspoken rivalry that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“We are,” Carlos says softly, his eyes filled with warmth as he looks at you and Lucero. “Very lucky.”

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The Ferrari Family Drama Deepens: Carlos Sainz and Y/N L/N Relationship Confirmed, Tensions With Charles Leclerc?

In the wake of the Brazilian Grand Prix, a new chapter in the unfolding drama within the Ferrari paddock has captivated fans and media alike. Speculation about the personal lives of drivers Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc has reached a fever pitch, following a string of high-profile appearances involving a mystery woman—now identified as Y/N L/N—and a young child.

Y/N L/N, who had previously flown under the radar during her relationship with Leclerc, has now emerged in the public eye alongside Carlos Sainz. Their close interactions during the Grand Prix weekend, particularly after Sainz’s victory, left little doubt among observers that the two are romantically involved. In the celebratory moments after the race, Sainz was seen pulling L/N and the child—whose identity has yet to be confirmed—into a tight embrace, a gesture that all but confirmed their relationship status.

Eyewitnesses described the scene as heartwarming, with Sainz not only basking in the glory of his win but also sharing the moment with his newfound family. The child, speculated to be L/N’s daughter, appeared comfortable in Sainz’s arms, fueling rumors that he has taken on a fatherly role in her life. However, without any official word, questions surrounding the child’s identity remain unanswered, leaving room for continued speculation.

The plot thickened further when fans spotted L/N having a private conversation with Charles Leclerc, captured from a distance by photographers. The conversation appeared somber, with both parties showing visible signs of tension. Leclerc, who finished third in the race, was seen standing near L/N while the child stayed close, sparking curiosity about the nature of their exchange. Though no details have emerged about what was discussed, the history between L/N and Leclerc seems to weigh heavily on both.

The identity of the child—who, according to witnesses, shares striking features with both Leclerc and L/N—remains a mystery, adding to the intrigue surrounding the unfolding drama. 

The questions on everyone’s minds now are: how will this personal entanglement affect the drivers moving forward? And what does this mean for their upcoming races and the Ferrari team as a whole?

a/n: Hi friends! If you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! Any feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated, they seriously keep me so motivated <3

tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy @honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux @jeondeluxe111 @dessxoxsworld @xoscar03 @emryb @yl90 @poppyflower-22 @a-distantdreamer @raynetargaryan @halleest @cosmoscoffeee @crying-in-fangirl @khaylin27

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter III. Sun ray.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

chapter summary: discovering a hidden place helps discover hidden feelings and the camera captures a fleeting moment of happiness.

warnings: description of a nightmare with drowning

~ Masterlist for the series

🌻 Sunflower - happiness and positivity.

There's no air that can reach his lungs, Hyunjin realizes this as the feeling of water filling up his insides consumes his entire being.

He's grasping for a figurative straw, his arms are lifting up to reach towards the surface, where he can see the light reflecting off of it, the sliver of hope he craves to hold on to.

Bubbles leave his lips as he screams silently in panic, unable to swim up, like some kind of deep sea leviathan has gripped his ankles and it's pulling him further down.

Down where he'll disappear forever, his body becoming food for the fishes, his existence forgotten like he was never even alive.

Like his dreams, thoughts and wishes didn't matter. Like whatever painting he ever created was scraped away, washed away, faded away into oblivion.

There's warmness and comfort replacing the harsh iciness of the sea when he stops fighting against it, letting it take him into it's depths where he'll be safe from all the harm that the big bad world has brought him.

Hyunjin's eyes open abruptly and the warmness he felt in his nightmare comes in the shape of salty tears sliding down his cheeks. He coughs, sitting up quickly, feeling like the air from his lungs has actually been taken away.

He reaches for the glass of water on the nightstand and drinks the refreshing liquid with big gulps.

He shivers, eyes fluttering before he reaches up to wipe his tears away.

Hyunjin can't even remember the last time he cried, or the last time he had a nightmare like this.

Shaking it off, he checks the clock and as he slowly comes to his senses, the hope he wanted so desperately to cling onto in his dream, lingers in his chest again.

It's almost time to meet up with you.

With newfound excitement, Hyunjin slowly but surely forgets about the feeling of the cold sea enveloping him as he gets ready for the day.

His camera is a must as he grabs it last, before skipping two steps at a time as he makes his way downstairs.

"Good morning, Hyunjin."- Isaac almost scares him as he appears beside him in the hall, a newspaper in his hand.

"Oh, good morning Isaac."- Hyunjin smiles, after the mini heart attack he experienced.

"What's the plan for today?"- Isaac asks and doesn't miss the way Hyunjin's smile widens.

"I- uhm- managed to find a tour guide for the island."- he stutters out, redness spreading on his cheeks.

"Oh really? And who might that be? I know everyone here and I just wanna make sure you're safe."- Isaac half-jokes, he has every good intention in mind.

"Y/n."- Hyunjin answers and Isaac looks a little surprised.

"So, am I safe?"- Hyunjin asks as Isaac gets quiet suddenly.

"Yes, yes, very safe. I'm just a little surprised that she offered."- Isaac says, waving the newspaper around.

"How so?"- Hyunjin tilts his head curiously.

"She's kind of a... homebody. Or gardenbody, if you will."- Isaac snickers at his own joke. "Mostly keeps to herself and her flowers. But she's a good girl, really."- he finishes, with his signature warm smile.

"I thought so too."- Hyunjin nods.

"Well, have fun. I hope you'll indulge me later with a little visit to my studio."

The lump in Hyunjin's throat is back.

"I'll try."- and he really will.

With all he has in him, he will try to look deep within himself to find the strength and inspiration he lost somewhere along the way.

When your alarm wakes you up that morning, you don't feel annoyed or groggy, you feel excited.

The sun coming through the window lays on your body like a warm blanket, threatening to make you fall asleep again but your galloping heartbeat doesn't let you fall into the safety of your dreams again.

You get up with a kind of giddiness in your body, a skip in your step as you decide to wear your favorite yellow dress, the color of the sunflowers, the one kept in the back of your closet, existing only for special occasions.

The thought of spending time with and getting to know Hyunjin, makes for a pretty special occasion in your mind.

You're already planning a little route, imagining taking him to all your favorite places, the ones you saw so many times now being looked at from a new pair of eyes, the eyes of an artist with a paintbrush and a camera.

You wait for him in front of your flower shop, clutching at your little backpack, nervousness washing over you.

Hyunjin arrives on time, the sunlight making him shine brighter than any pretty jewel you've ever laid your eyes upon.

When he sees you, his face breaks into a smile as he runs his hand through his hair, a habit you already picked up on.

He's wearing sunglasses and his usual jewelry, his camera resting on his chest and a backpack on his shoulders.

"Morning!"- you greet when he's close enough.

"Morning!"- he returns the greeting equally excitedly as he cascades up to you.

"Did you sleep well?"- you ask and Hyunjin shivers a little, his lips parting as he blinks.

"Let's say I did."- he nods, pursing his lips.

"It takes some time to get used to all the smell of the varnished wood in Isaac's house."- you chuckle, starting to walk.

"Oh, you've been there?"- Hyunjin asks as he hurries up to follow you.

"Of course! Everyone's been at Isaac's."- you chuckle again. "We're like a little community here. He invites half the island to dinner sometimes. Well, when it's his son's or wife's anniversary mostly. He doesn't want to be alone then. I bring him flowers and my mom's famous cake."- you say as you approach the little restaurant you visit almost every day.

"Oh yeah, he told me about his son. Not about his wife though."- Hyunjin looks thoughtful.

"He'll tell you, I'm sure."- you say as you stop walking. "I thought we could eat breakfast first if you haven't had it yet."

"Oh yeah, actually I'm starving."- Hyunjin nods quickly, almost forgetting about the previous conversation.

You walk in and are greeted by Catherine immediately as she stands behind the bar and wipes away clean coffee cups, putting them back in their designated places.

Luna is sitting at one of the tables, coloring and lost in her own little world.

Catherine greets you, then stops when she looks at Hyunjin.

"Oh, hello there...?"- she looks at your new friend expectantly.

"Hyunjin. Nice to meet you."- he picks upon everyone wanting to meet the newcomer at their island.

"Catherine. That's my daughter Luna. And my husband, Bennet."- she points at him just as he walks out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of pancakes for his daughter.

"Oh, good morning, good people!"- Bennet smiles and you chuckle.

"Hyunjin just arrived on the island and I'm planning to show him around. But we can't really do that on an empty stomach."- you say and Catherine chuckles.

"Oh no, we can't have the two of you hungry. Why don't you two sit down and I'll bring a menu so your friend can look at it?"- Catherine says.

You take your usual spot, next to the window and she brings the menu for Hyunjin.

"You eat lunch here, right?"- Hyunjin asks as he scans the menu.

"How did you know?"- you ask, looking up from setting your backpack down on the floor.

"It's kind of the only restaurant in the vicinity."- Hyunjin chuckles and you feel your face warm up in embarassment.

"Right."- you giggle.

"Here's your lemonade."- Catherine appears.

"Ooh, can I order one too?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Of course, I'll get right on that."- Catherine says before she disappears again.

"So, what do you recommend?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Well, an omelette is always good. So are pancakes. Maybe some fruit?"- you say and he chuckles.

"How about all of it?"

"That sounds good."

After you order a little bit of everything, Luna appears next to your table.

She giggles at Hyunjin shyly, half-hiding behind your arm.

Hyunjin greets her and you bend down to her level.

"Don't be shy."- you chuckle and then sign something as Hyunjin observes the two of you and realizes that the little girl is deaf.

"Oh, okay."- you laugh, your face red, you sign something else and Luna giggles again before running away back to her table.

"She can't hear at all?"- Hyunjin asks quietly.

"No, she was born like that. But she's a happy little girl."- you smile.

"What did you sign to her last?"- he asks curiously.

"I told her she looks pretty."- you say and Hyunjin nods. "She also said that you look like a prince, and that I look like a princess."

Hyunjin sputters, almost choking on his lemonade, his hand on his chest.

"Well, not sure about the first one but I agree with the latter."

Your heart threatens to betray you in that very moment.

With tummies full and cheeks rosy, Hyunjin and you walk quietly together, the sound of gravel crunching under your feet seemingly loud in the comfortable silence.

"Have you been living on the island your whole life?"- he asks, breaking the silence suddenly.

"Pretty much, yeah. I've only moved for college shortly but I never finished."- you say.

"What did you study?"

"Journalism."

"Really?"- he chuckles. "If you graduated maybe you'd be the one interviewing me and maybe we'd meet then, in the showbiz world."

"Okay, mr. Big Shot."- you laugh and he laughs embarassingly at himself.

"Why didn't you finish? Lost motivation or?"

"My mother fell sick. Had to move back and take care of her."- you say and Hyunjin again feels like he's just here digging into people's wounds.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. It was a long time ago now. I'm glad I moved back here. I like this quiet little life. I think the big city would eat me up, honestly."- you confess, leading Hyunjin to the pretty forest behind the beach where you sat looking at the sunset the night before.

"The big city really does eat you up. You get stuck in a rut and washed away with all the other trash."

"Speaking from personal experience?"- you quirk up an eyebrow as you finally get under the shade of the big trees.

Hyunjin lifts his camera up, snapping a few pictures before he turns towards you and you lift your hand up just in time for him to snap a picture of you trying to hide your face.

"Yeah, I guess so."- he answers, the look in his eyes doleful.

"Is that why you came here?"- your finger is now pressing into Hyunjin's own wound.

"Kind of."- he says quietly. "The lifestyle I live right now is not something I'm proud of and definitely not what I wanted."

"Sometimes you have to do the things you hate to get to what you love."- you say as the two of you make your way to the neatly hidden cove you always loved to come to with your little notebooks and pencils.

Sometimes you would go there just to sit and think. Sometimes it was the only place that you could cry in peace at, your tears blending into the vastness of the salty sea, soothing and alluring.

Nobody asking you what's wrong and what they can do to make it better, because nothing can make it better, nothing except letting it all out, away from all the prying eyes and hands.

"I'm pretty sure I mostly do things I hate. Don't even know what I love about it anymore."- Hyunjin finds himself surprised with the fact that he can so easily tell you what's been weighing heavy on his mind for what feels like an eternity.

"Don't you love painting?"

"I used to. Not sure anymore."- Hyunjin shivers at the realization that it was the first time he's uttered that out loud except when he was screaming at his manager.

"I'm sure you can teach yourself to love it again. Maybe with a little help too. For example, what is your favorite thing to paint? Or was, rather."- you ask, curiously tilting your head at him as you near the narrow entrance to the cove.

"Flowers."- Hyunjin says as you come to a stop in front of the entrance and he lifts his camera up to take photos.

"I happen to know quite a lot about flowers."- you tease and Hyunjin chuckles, putting the camera down.

"Oh really now? Maybe I could use your knowledge as my inspiration if you'll let me."- he smiles and your heart flutters.

"Sure, you can come to my flower shop or garden any time."- you smile back and it's like some kind of relief keeps washing over Hyunjin whenever you smile at him like that.

"I'd love that."- he says and you lead him through the little cave out to the beach.

"This'll be a pretty picture."- Hyunjin mutters just as you turn around towards him, the beach coming into view behind you in the opening of the cave.

Click.

The camera clicks, capturing the moment in the frame forever.

You chuckle as you walk out to the cove and Hyunjin follows.

"Wow!"- he gasps. "So beautiful. How is this place still not discovered?"

"Eh, during the summer months people flood this place like moths to a flame. But during the rest of the year, it's mostly empty."

Hyunjin snaps a few pictures again.

"Maybe I should take some pics of you too."- you say.

"Be my guest."- Hyunjin doesn't hesitate to hand you his precious camera.

It doesn't do justice to Hyunjin's beauty, his face bathed in the sunlight, his eyes closed as he turns towards the sea, his lips upturned in a small blissful smile, his dimples showing.

He really looks like the lead of a romance movie, the ones you watched way too many times, knowing deep inside that you'd never be that girl who gets the main guy.

Always the girl on the sidelines, where you got used to being to the point it became hard for you to even imagine falling in love or imagine going out of your comfort zone and giving away your vunerability into someone's open palms like it was just a thing to toss around as everyone takes a turn picking at it, leaving with pieces of you.

Pieces you will never get back, leaving you with your soul bare.

You don't want that, you don't think you even know how to give that anymore.

Everything you give, goes to your flowers.

All your love, your hopes and your tears grow in the shape of stems sprouting out of the earth, blossoming into different colored petals drenched with intoxicating scents.

"Took enough?"- Hyunjin breaks you out of your thoughts and you chuckle a little.

"I think so."- you hand him back the camera before the two of you take a stroll on the beach.

Hyunjin feels like the lead in a romance movie, but there's a wall in front of him, one that is too high to climb up on, too sturdy to break and too deeply rooted into the earth that you can't even dig a hole in it.

The setting is there, the girl is there, only his heart is not. It's scared, hiding away like a wounded animal after a scuffle.

If it was a few years before Hyunjin would surely already let himself fall into you, assured that you'll welcome him with your arms wide open but that's not who he is anymore.

Whatever kind of fairytale he blindly believed in before was just that; a fairytale, not a reality he could touch with his fingertips, hold in his arms, taste on his lips.

But, he is willing to deceive himself even for a fleeting moment of happiness like this.

The walk is short and you end up sitting on the rocks and taking more photos of the picturesque beach, the conversation between you now more light, avoiding the heavy themes and instead commenting on something laugh worthy, something to alleviate the heavy atmosphere threatening to absorb you.

You take Hyunjin back through the forest, walking him all the way into Isaac's street, promising that you will show him another favorite 'secret' place on the island in the next few days.

The sun is almost setting as the two of you turn around and start making your way to your homes.

Hyunjin finally feels something.

It may be small and flickering, like a light at the end of a ceaseless dark tunnel but he can see it in the distance, welcoming him with it's warmth.

Your evening routine has never felt more special. Even though it's the same night after night, it's like there's glitter sprinkled on everything you touch, making it glow beautifully like it was something completely new.

And while you hum along to your music and cook dinner like some movie character waiting for their lover to arrive home, Hyunjin is sitting in his room.

Isaac wasn't home when he'd arrived so he just made his way upstairs, the wooden stairs creaking under his weight, each one singing a different specific song.

Hyunjin ended up sitting on his bed after a shower and a snack, his camera in his hands as he looked at the pictures both of you took that day.

There was something familiar in the sun rays bursting between trees, in the crease of his brow, in the wave of the sea, in your bright smile. It was as if all of the nature's beauty blended together and into the two of you, whispering quietly to him, coaxing him into a net of safety.

Hyunjin caught himself smiling wide at the thought of you.

A knock on the door burst his little bubble, and he cleared his throat before yelling a 'come in!'.

"Evening, Hyunjin. I was just wondering if you'd like to eat dinner with me."- it was Isaac with his warm smile.

"Of course. I'll be down in five."- he says and Isaac nods curtly before leaving Hyunjin's room.

He sets the camera aside, accidentally casting his eyes on the paintbrushes sticking out of his suitcase he hasn't even completely unpacked yet.

Something twists in his stomach and he turns away from the little devils, deciding to make his way downstairs.

Isaac looks up from preparing the table and Hyunjin joins in, helping him.

"So, how was your outing?"- Isaac asks with a small smile.

"Refreshing, honestly."- Hyunjin returns the smile. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed ever since I stepped foot on the island."

"Well, that is so good to hear! I'm glad this little island brings you a peace of mind like it did for me."- Isaac says as the two of them sit down.

"I used to live in the big city. Stop me if I'm wrong here but you probably feel exasperated and worn out from the lifestyle of a successful artist."- Isaac starts and Hyunjin stops him.

"How'd you know I'm successful?"- he asks with his brows lifted up in surprise, making the older man chuckle.

"It's easy to guess so. With one look at your attire, anyone can see you're well off."- Isaac concludes.

"Right."- Hyunjin nods, his cheeks becoming rosy in embarassment. "So, you used to be a successful artist too?"

"Hey, don't say used to!"- Isaac laughs and Hyunjin chuckles, apologizing before Isaac hits him with a 'just kidding'.

"But yes, I used to live the lifestyle you do now. And even with my wife beside me, I continued living the same... let's say festive lifestyle and I neglected her and my son. Ah, it's a long story for another day."- Isaac stops himself.

"Well, I'd like to hear it one day."

"The point I want to make is, don't make the same mistakes I did. If you see a good opportunity, grab it while you can."

Hyunjin can't help but think he's talking about you.

He barely manages to fall asleep that night, even after walking around and eating good food, his mind is restless.

He dreams of blank canvases and sun rays that night. He dreams of your smile and the warmth he feels doesn't come in the shape of tears this time, it comes in the shape of a good feeling blooming inside his chest.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight

[liverspaghett]

Loser Trapped in A Hot Body

Jooyeon x fem reader

Super late birthday special for Joo

W/c: roughly 2700

Warnings: degrading (m rec), sub Jooyeon, Joo is needy whiny and sensitive , begging, not proofread

tags: @sol3chu @joosbasschick

Today was the day you'd waited several months for. Today your favorite band will be playing at your local bar. You adored their music and hoped that they could become popular, but you're glad they aren't as of now so seeing them wasn't nearly that expensive.

A small fan base doesn't mean a less crazy one though. The fans were known for being particularly blunt and would share anything with you, be it you wanted to hear or not. They were renowned to be fairly horny people. Can you blame them though? I mean the group was hot. Especially the bassist. The band didn't name their fan base, the fans did it themselves. They call themselves sluts. You want to say you're embarrassed to call yourself a slut, but really you're not, it's hilarious.

You get dressed in a cute and revealing outfit. You look ready to go “whoring about” as your friend would say. She means it lightheartedly as you two joke that way often. You fix your hair and makeup. Your smudgy eyeliner and shaggy hair suit the look perfectly. You put in your septum ring and step back to look at yourself. After a moment of thinking, you decide on some chunky black sneakers.

Your friend looks at you approvingly. She would be going with you. She was already dressed and ready. You were both ready to leave now. You excitedly grab your bag and get in the car, driving to the bar. The sun is on the verge of setting when you head inside.

The bar is lively with people all about. Music blasts and lights dance in the dark room. Your body betrays your mind's appeal to appear calm and confident. You turn around, moving your body to the music. You feel intoxicated without having even drunk anything. Your friend smiles, but is too shy to join in. The song ends and the lights dim. You turn around and you're facing a stage, now set with instruments and six familiar and very sexy guys.

The lights adjust, one shines directly on the bassist, Jooyeon, and he's sporting a new look. Crazy black hair and dramatic eyeliner. His torn black and white sweater over his black pants and chunky black boots. All of it is tied together with his chunky silver accessories and black lipstick. You were intrigued by his new darker than usual look. You adored it. He was still getting ready when he glanced over, accidentally locking eyes with you. His eyes traveled slowly down your body. He took every part of you into his eyes. You glared back at him. You looked aggressive, and he was into that.

Another member of the band, Gaon, hit him on the shoulder, bringing him back from his trance. He made some joke that you couldn't hear, but Jooyeon laughed so it must've been funny. If he says something is, that's how it'll be. He at least had that effect on you. The sound of the boys’ amps turning on directs all of the attention to them. They look confident and excited to play. Those of us in the crowd who are fans cheer. Gunil counts off their first song and they start playing.

Jooyeon can't help but steal a glance at you every now and then. He plays effortlessly though he's only half-minded right now. All of his thoughts are on you, putting his hands on autopilot to play. He doesn't even realize he's been straight up staring at you until the song ends, ringing him conscious again.

They play for another hour and Jooyeon simply observes you while he plays. He watches as you dance, you look so loose and comfortable, like you're genuinely enjoying yourself. He smiles. Just then you turn around to look at him. Your eyes lock and Jooyeon feels his heart skip a beat. He looks down, pretending to focus on his guitar. When the last song ends, he puts his bass back on the stand, his face is glistening with sweat and his furrowed brows add a tinge of spice to his look.

The band disperses into the crowd, enjoying themselves now that the regular music has begun playing again. When you feel a gap on your shoulder, you least expect it to be Jooyeon, eyeing you down with a smirk.

“Mind if I buy you a drink, beautiful?” He places his hand on your shoulder, trying not to infringe on your personal space too much. You blush at his boldness. Was he really asking you of all the people here for a drink?

“Sure,” you try to keep your cool, replying as nonchalantly as you can. He strikes up conversation as you make your way over to the bar.

“I’m Jooyeon,” he says, introducing himself with a sheepish smile.

“I know,” “You reply confidently. Jooyeon blushes. His heart swells with excitement at being recognized.

“You know me? You know the band?” He looks to you with shimmering eyes that contrast to his dark look.

“Yeah, I love your music,”

“Well, enough about me then, what’s your name?” He puts his best attempt forward to look and act cool. Meeting a fan wasn’t something he’d planned on.

“I’m y/n.” You answer. He nods, liking the sound of your name. You take a seat on the barstool and Jooyeon finds himself in the one beside you. You boh sit facing each other, intrigued in conversation. A couple drinks in and you don’t hear a thing coming from his mouth. He just keeps yapping nonsense, but you look at him intently, though your mind is distant.

You're in a haze of thoughts and scenarios. You can’t seem to scratch the thought of kissing him. His black lipstick stood out in contrast to his pearly white teeth when he smiled. He stopped talking for a moment, realizing you were only half-present. He smirks and brushes your hair out of your face, bringing you back to reality.

“What's on your mind?” He asks. You blush, realizing he probably picked up on your thoughts. He had caught you staring at his lips.

“Oh uh, nothing” your lies become poor as the alcohol sets in. Not even the drunkest guy in here would buy it.

“Oh come on, I saw you looking,” Jooyeon teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well it's your own fault. Who said you could come out here looking so hot?” Your filters wither away, allowing you to spew out your thoughts without hesitation. He finds it more than amusing. It's equally arousing.

The things between then and now are blank in your mind, and it's probably for the better. You have Jooyeon pinned to the wall on the narrow hallway that leads to bathrooms and employee entrances. His lips are parted, gasping for air while you aren't kissing him like some rabid animal. Lipstick is smeared all over his face and his eyes are glossy with desire. You can almost hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to burst from the adrenaline that courses through his veins. He's dizzy from all the blood in his system flooding his cock that begs to be released from his tight leather pants. He moans into your kiss, taking everything you offer him with pleasure, but he needs more.

“Can we… go to your place?” His words barely cohesive under his breathy panting.

“Yeah, come on” you grab his wrist and drag him to your car. He gets in the passenger seat obligingly. You can see in tense demeanor that he’s really needy. A tent has long since formed in his pants. You reach over, placing your hand on his thigh, pulling his legs open and caressing his inner thigh with some force. You give it a squeeze and his legs threaten to close. He’s facing the ground. His face is deep red. He’s shy and can’t bring himself to look at you. Your hands move with confidence, slowly dragging up his thigh and grazing over his crotch. He gulps, a slight whimper escaping his throat at the contact.

You pull into your driveway, glad your friend had decided on going home tonight. Jooyeon follows you inside and you don't make it past the couch.His whines are even more beautiful than his singing voice.

"Please..." He sounds on the verge of tears. His eyes are sewn shut.

"It hurts" he says. His cock must be aching to get out. You help him stand up and unzip his pants agonizingly slow. His chest rises and falls quickly, his breath becoming increasingly restrained as you undress him. Jooyeon's had several one night stands before, but he's never been the sub. He appears to have unlocked a new part of him.

Your eyes are intense and your gaze is merciless as you take in the look of his exposed lanky frame. His cock stands straight up, pressed flush against his stomach. Precum smears his stomach and his tip is deep red from being so hard.

"You're so sensitive," you say in awe, his body reacts to everything, even the change in the air as you move.

"Been horny all day, can't take it anymore" he's whiny. Really, really whiny. He'll do anything if you just say the word.

You wrap your hand around his length and his legs threaten to give out. He's already on the verge of cumming and you've barely touched him. He was needy, whiny, and pathetic for you. He's never been dominated before but it was the switch up he didn't know he needed.

You help him sit down on the couch again and situate yourself beside him. You bring your hand back to his cock, stroking it excruciatingly slow. You take your sweet time with the poor boy. Tears well up in his eyes and you scoff at him, making him jump slightly.

"You're so pathetic Jooyeon" you laugh. It makes his cock throb in your hand. A gutteral moan escaping his throat. Your hand speeds up and his body shakes underneath you. You can feel him getting close, and just before he can cum, you pull away, leaving him disappointed.

"The fuck was that for?" He scolds. His eyes are still glossy, but he furrows his brows, trying to appear angry.

"I'm not letting you cum so fast now baby, gotta be patient" you remark, he sulks down, submitting to you.Your hand finds it's place stroking him again. He writes under your touch, urgent to cum. Before he reaches his climax again though, you're pulling away. He cries out in desperation.

"I'll let you cum if you get on your knees and beg for it" his eyes snap to look at you, caught completely off guard.

"Me? Beg? Not happening" Jooyeon scoffed. He wasn't about to get down and beg! That would be so humiliating. Though as the seconds ticked by and his cock throbbed, begging for attention, the idea started to intrigue him.

"Ok, you won't be cumming, but I still need to." You start peeling your clothes off of your body, revealing what's underneath. Jooyeon's face heats up in response. He's aching for attention.

"Fine," he sighs. You smirk, trying to hide your excitement.

"Fine what Joo?" Your voice is coated in a false sense of sweetness. He tries to avoid your gaze by looking down at your feet.

He picks himself up and lowers himself onto the floor. His cock is pressed against his stomach from the painful erection. He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Please y/n" he sobs. Tears streaming down his face.

"Please- I can't take this anymore. Need you so bad" You smirk, pleased with his begging, and squat down to look him in the eye. His face is in the grip of your hand. Your fingers squish his cheeks, causing his lips to pout as he looks at you with fear and excitement.

"What was that pup?"

"Please! I need you!" He chokes on his tears and coughs out his pleads. His legs shake underneath him.

You push him back, causing him to fall. He leans back on his arms, peering up at you. He's enjoying the bullying. You straddle his lap, sticking his tip between your folds and running it back and forth.

Your arousal soaks his erection, you're riding him now, soaking his entire length without even putting it in. he's pushing his orgasm again, hoping you don't rip it away from him. Lewd sounds of your fluids and the smacking of your skin gets you both so turned on. His tip hits your clit with every move of your hips.

"'m so close" be sobs, whispering just loud enough to hear over his breathy pants. He fails to grab a fistful of the carpet beneath him leaving his fist clenched and empty. His knuckles are white from the tension. One more thrust from your hips and he's whining as cum spurts up his torso. The throbbing of his cock makes you see stars. You're on the verge of cumming as well, but you aren't done with him.

As you pull away, arousal mixed with precum and a bit of cum string between you two. You can feel it leak down the sides of your legs from the sheer amount. Jooyeon's torso is painted white and his face is beet red and tear stained. He shivers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He didn't think he would enjoy being humiliated so much.

"I hope you aren't done yet, I haven't came" you say, sounding a little strict. Jooyeon looks at you, struck with fear and anticipation.

You grab his cock, positioning him to your entrance. It had ready begun to soften, but the moment his tip is between your warm, soaked walls, he's hard again. You lower down on him, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. Whimpers escape from his throat though he tries to choke them back. His tip kisses your cervix just as he bottoms out. He fits perfectly inside of you.

With one movement, you pick up and push him back in, starting to set a pace for your thrusts. This time, you properly ride him. The overstimulation has him writhing underneath you, begging for you to stop, but at the same time, he yearns for more.

You approach your orgasm again and you can feel he's close as well. You pull off of him, depriving him of his second orgasm, and take his hand, pressing it on your clit. He smiles and gladly starts rubbing circles on the nerve, causing you to jump. He takes his other hand, his pointer and middle finger, and press them inside of you. He almost cums from feeling you so wet around his fingers alone. His hips seek friction, jerking against his will. The sound of your wetness smacking from his fingers turns him on, he's as hard as when you began.

He curls his fingers inside you, your body reacts without permission. Your using his shoulders as support as he fingers you. Your hips roll into his skillful hands, making you appear desperate. You lock eyes intimately, and the magnetism between you two pulls you together. His kiss triggers your orgasm, your legs tense and your walls clench around him. You're breathing deep, sharp breaths into his mouth.

After you ride out your high, Jooyeon retreats his fingers that are now soaked in your essence. He runs his hand between your folds, collecting as much if your arousal as he can. His hand is soaked when he pulls away. You get off of his lap and see what he was doing.

He takes his cock in his hand. The same hand that cleaned you up in one swipe. He used your wetness to lubricate his hand and now he's getting off with it. He strokes vigorously, looking at your bare body.

When he reaches his second orgasm, coating himself in another load, he looks at you. He's completely spent. He reaches his arms out, expectant that you'll spoil him. You help help clean up and lead him to your bed, covering him up and laying beside him. You wrap your arms around him and he snuggles into you sweetly.

Normally, Jooyeon wouldve been gone by now, already back at the dorms. He's had plenty of hookups, but you were special. When you wake up, he's still between your arms. He smiles as he looks up to you, glad you're awake.

"Can I have your number?"

[afyrian]

line two - earbuds in and out m.list

    tapping your pen against the table, your lips part in surprise. the second line is filled with ramblings of a man who cheated on his partner, trying to get advice on how to convince his partner that it isn't a big deal. listening to him talk, you look over towards the sound booth, blinking rapidly towards sakusa. hoping to show him your want to break free from the conversation. however, he’s looking off into the distant. 

  "okay, line two, so you cheated.. that's a hard fact. and for a lot of people, it's also a dealbreaker," you start, spinning the end of the pen around on the old wooden table. before you can continue your 'advice', he starts talking again, trying to defend himself.

  the man breathes loudly into the mic, "yeah but it wasn't personal or anything. it was just a one night stand, which in a way isn't really cheating if you think about it. cheating is usually emotional, between two people who have residual feelings.”

  "dude cheating is cheating. if you even kiss someone romantically and your partner isn’t okay with it, it's cheating. it doesn't matter if it was personal or not. and i'm here to give you advice. if you don't want to hear advice you might not like to hear, then don't call in," you bite your lip, glancing back towards the sound booth, watching as sakusa finally looks up.

  his eyebrow is quirked, intrigued by the conversation at hand. turning back to your laptop, you stare at the music choices, hoping to find a song to play that gives you a moment away from the mic. "now, do you want advice, or should i answer line three?" your voice suddenly becomes firm, knuckles growing tense from holding the pen so tightly. 

  the line clicks, the caller likely hanging up in an attempt to flee from the situation. pursing your lips, you look over to sakusa again, noticing him clicking something on his setup. narrowing your eyes, you wonder if he was the one to end the call. "well listeners, guess that guy didn't want to talk it out today... how about we listen in to 'off she goes' by bad suns and relax before listening to line three's woes?"

  leaning back in your seat, you nod along as the song begins. taking off your headphones, you bring your hands up to your head, resting them above your hair. a part of you knows that a new cup of coffee could be nice, but really all you want to do is rest and sit back to the four free minutes you have. 

  very rarely have you had to tell a caller to back off, indirectly or directly. and yet every time you do, you can feel the energy drain from you. closing your eyes, you sit for a minute, memorizing the melody that plays effortlessly in your head. a minute passes as you start to grow anxious. sakusa hasn't said a word...

  peeking an eye open, you look towards the sound both, towards him. looking in his direction, you furrow your eyebrows. earbuds rest comfortably in his ears as he nods along to the song playing. you're used to the comfortable hum of your last sound engineer's talking. the way he would let you sit with your eyes closed, talking about whatever nonsense he could think of.

  now, everything's just so silent. once the music starts, it fizzles out, and all you need is a little bit of chatter. yet it's not there. fully opening your eyes, you sit up, restless. "how are you liking this position so far?" you ask, raising your voice enough that you hope he can hear.

  he looks up from his soundboard, pulling out an earbud, "what did you need?"

  "oh nothing- i was just letting you know we're starting soon," you nod, tapping anxiously against the wooden table, shrugging your shoulders.

  nodding, sakusa slowly inserts his earbud again, grabbing his phone to look at something. grimacing, you bring your head forward, resting it on the table. the wood is smooth, cool to the touch. the warm fan of the laptop being the only thing keeping you from getting goosebumps. breathing in slowly, you count for five seconds, breathing back out.

  it's the last technique you could think to use now that your support system is gone. feeling the jitters quietly leave your body, you finally sit back up. biting your lip and resting your headphones over your ears, you notice the thirty seconds left. "would you-" you start, wondering if you could get lunch with him after work sometime. 

  however, you can see him focusing on whatever is on his phone. sakusa's attention is grabbed, and instead of prying anymore, you shake your head. staring down the clock, you watch until it reaches one second left. "hello everyone, thank you for listening and hopefully loving one of my favorite songs. now, let's give it up for line three. what would you like to talk it out with me today?”

  leaning up towards the mic, you don’t notice the look resting on sakusa’s face. he’s smiling to himself, a smile that just barely graces his lips, listening to you introduce the next caller.

taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3

@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave

@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant

[kukurubean]

personal update

Hi! Hello! I'm sorry I haven't been very personable lately. A lot of you probably know I have been struggling with my health. Which has been going on for. nearly 5 years now. And I've just steadily gotten worse and worse, lol,

Anyway. I wanted to post an update to say I may have finally hit a breakthrough. 🥲🤞

I have some sort of fun wombo-combo of about 3 or 4 conditions trying to destroy me all at once, so every treatment I've tried (which isn't actually a lot, since there are no real treatments for what I have and most doctors don't want to deal with it) has done nothing and I have also been to just about every kind of medical specialist under the sun. I still get nightmares over the disaster that was traveling all the way to Mayo Clinic and I've been trying to pick up the pieces ever since.

My main doctor right now is a rheumatologist who I think I haunt at night. I've stumped him for what seems like the first time in his life. But he's trying harder than anyone else I've had before. Everyone else sent me away at this point lol

But this update comes after I had a "fuck it" moment and decided to once again apply to the big hospital nearby, because apparently I am somehow on their roster after being rejected over and over for several years now 🤪 (I think it's because of an echocardiogram I did on one of their campuses.)

Anywho, we managed to find a doctor willing to prescribe me a drug could help me feel human again. I've been to about 3 neurologists over this nonsense and no one was willing to jump through the hoops for it because it is, admittedly, an absolute pain in the ass to prescribe. It's called Xywav and it's not only a highly controlled substance but also the only damn drug of its type on the market. So you can only imagine the gerrymandering.

He's sending me to another doctor first, just to see if this other guy can offer any insight into wtf is wrong with me, but if he doesn't suggest anything else I should finally be on track to try it! I obviously don't know if it will work for me but it's the only decent bet I have left. If it doesn't work I am going to cry for about 3 months straight so please help me manifest this

[37sommz]

000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: season 3, ep. 4 [drive to survive]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis:⠀michaela gets on the podium. ✼. warnings:⠀none :)

✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 12, 2020 — tuscany, italy

The camera pans over the rolling hills of Tuscany, capturing the vibrant greens and golds of the Italian countryside. The famous Mugello Circuit stands proudly in the background, hosting the Tuscany Grand Prix of 2020. Being the first time the track will host a Formula 1 race, anticipation hangs in the air like the sweet scent of the local vineyards pictured in the distance.

Will Buxton sits in a graying corner of the confessional room, the stage lights illuminating his excited face. “Tuscany is more than just beautiful." the roar of Formula 1 engines mirrors the excitement the viewer can feel through the screen. "It’s a place of legends. And this year, one driver is determined to carve her name into that history: Michaela Sommers.”

Inside the Alfa Romeo garage, Michaela stands poised, her racing suit clinging to her athletic frame. A fierceness rarely witnessed by the Netflix cameras fills the air with an electric wait. Her brown eyes glisten with a mixture of nerves and stern determination. The hum of activity in the Alfa Romeo garage surrounds her as the crew prepares car number thirty-seven. The scent of oil and rubber is thick in the air as they flit around her in rapid succession; a vivid contrast to the focus she fixes over the sheet of data she holds in her hands.

“It’s surreal being here." Her accent floats in the air as the words leave her perfectly plump lips. The signature blonde of her hair is twirled into a rare curl, the pattern a bit frazzled as it struggles to break through the subtle hint of heat damage.

"I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a child, imagining the roar of the engines, the thrill of the chase." She smiles at this, lips curling at the ends. "But now, the reality is sinking in—I’m racing in Formula 1. I can’t just be another name.”

The air crackles with tension as Fred Vasseur, the Alfa Romeo team principal, strides into the garage as if in slow motion, his face a mix of focus and fierce encouragement. He observes the frenzied preparations, his mind racing with strategies. Finding Michaela tucked into herself, separate from the bustling life of the garage, he claps a soft hand onto the taller 20-year-old's shoulder.

As practice begins, Michaela slips into the cockpit, the roar of the engine vibrating through her. The car moves as if an extension of her own body. She speeds out onto the track, and the world around her blurs—a vivid tapestry of colors and sounds merging into a single, exhilarating sensation.

“Michaela has the talent. We’re here to support her, but the pressure is immense." His French-lilted words swirl through the consonants of his words.

The sun beats down mercilessly, sweat pooling at her brow as she pushes herself to the limit. The adrenaline rush is intoxicating, yet the constant threat of failure lingers at the back of her mind.

The scene shifts to the rising dawn of qualifying day—all bright and tense, the sky a brilliant canvas of blue. Michaela stands on the grid, her heart pounding in her chest, every thrum of her pulse synchronized with the roar of engines surrounding her. Fans are packed into the grandstands, their cheers rising like a tide. A young girl holds up a poster of her favorite driver, one just as female as her.

Vasseur appears once more on the screen. A gentle smile adorns his features as he vocalizes his support for the young Australian. "This weekend could define her career. We all want that first podium finish. We know she is capable of that first podium finish.”

It is Michaela's turn to provide context as she appears once more on the screen. “Qualifying is… everything." As if struggling for words, her lips purse themselves tightly against one another. Her curls bounce lightly as her head shakes for emphasis. "I have to show that I belong here. One mistake and all of this could slip away.”

As the session commences, she grips the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity, the tires screaming for grip as she navigates the twisting circuit. Every corner demands a precision that she delivers with practiced levelheadedness. Every straightaway calls for speed, she responds in kind with the expert application of her foot to the gas. The tension builds with each passing second, and her heart races as she finds her rhythm.

When the session wraps, her name flashes on the timing board in seventh place—a stunning personal best, but she knows she has another day to accomplish the impossible.

“This is huge for Alfa Romeo and me, of course. But I know it’s just the first step. The real battle is on Sunday.” Without as much as a hint of a smile, Michaela's expression is focused even in her confessionals. Her demeanor perfectly reflects the seriousness with which she approaches every reference to her racing.

✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 13, 2020 — tuscany, italy

Race day breaks with a breathtaking sunrise that casts a warm golden hue over the circuit. The air is thick with anticipation, the scent of burning rubber and hot asphalt mixing with the earthy aroma of the nearby vineyards. Michaela stands on the grid, every nerve in her body alive with energy as the Italian national anthem plays out over the roar of the home crowd.

“Seeing Michaela on that grid is inspiring." Susie's eyes crinkle with warmth. "I’ve walked that path, and I know the stakes. This is where she’ll prove her worth.” She nods to her own words, believing sincerely that the young driver would achieve her bring moment.

As Michaela glances across the paddock, she meets the eyes of fierce faces—Lewis, Kimi, Sebastian—drivers whose accolades cast long shadows. As she continues to glance across the track, she meets the eyes of familiar rivals—Alex, Pierre, Charles—drivers she had battled every moment leading up to the one offering itself up to her now. The weight of expectation presses down on her like a heavy blanket, each camera flash a consuming reminder of the history she is trying to create.

The roar of engines reverberated through the packed grandstands at the Autodromo Internazionale del Mugello as the sleek chariots of Formula 1 lined up on the grid. The air crackles with anticipation; the stakes impossibly high, and the pressure insurmountably palpable.

The five lights go out, and the race launches into an immediate chaos. Engines roar, and the world becomes a blur of color and sound as Michaela blasts off the line. Her heart pounds as she jostles for position, deftly navigating the swirling chaos around her. The noise of roaring engines drowned out everything else as the field surged into the first corner—a high-speed ballet of carbon fiber and raw adrenaline. Heart pounding, Michaela navigated through the chaos, her instincts honed to perfection, emerging unscathed but hyper-aware of the battle raging around her.

"Michaela, you're showing strong pace. Keep pushing," her race engineer's voice crackled urgently through the team radio. With every heartbeat, she demanded more from her car, muscling it through sweeping curves and daring overtakes, her determination igniting a fire within. Kimi Raikkonen, her seasoned teammate, became both a mentor and a rival as they engaged in a relentless chess match on wheels into the sixteenth lap.

In the paddock, team principal Fred Vasseur watched with bated breath, his brow furrowed in equal parts concentration and concern at the battle between his two drivers. "She's driving like a woman possessed out there," he muttered out to no one in particular, eyes glued to the unfolding drama. Crofty’s voice cuts through the noise, narrating and dissecting every twist and turn for viewers around the globe.

As the race unfolds, dark clouds gather overhead, ominous and foreboding. The tension thickens like a brewing storm, and soon, rain begins to pour, drenching the track. Michaela can feel the fear rising around her as drivers scramble for pit stops, the slick surface transforming the circuit into a dangerous challenge she just cannot refuse.

An urgent 'box, box' comes over the radio moments later, a gentle panic rising in the depths of her conscience as she questions the decision out loud to her engineer. A simple response, "We feel it is time for inters," is all that comes across the radio, a done deal.

“This is where strategy matters." Will Buxton's voice cuts through the noise of the ongoing race. "The rain changes everything. One wrong move and it could all come crashing down, like that.” With the sound of his snapping fingers, the scene shifts back to Michaela's untimely pit stop.

As she speeds into the pits, the rain hammers down as if a thousand tiny drums. Her crew moves with the precision of a well-trained unit on a mission of success, changing her tires to intermediates. She can feel the pressure rising, the hopes of her team resting on her shoulders.

Back on the track, the rain-soaked asphalt is proving to be a challenge. Drivers struggle to keep their cars on pace in the pooling water. Michaela proves to be in her element, expertly maneuvering through the chaos. The echoes of praise ring through the action as the commentators reference the "Sommer Rain", the nickname she has so fondly picked up in Formula 3 for her thrilling overtakes in the wet.

As laps tick by in a blur of tire changes, red flag restarts, and high-stakes overtakes, tension mounts. Michaela remains steely-eyed, channeling the laser focus that had propelled her this far.

Midway through the race, the red flag is waved after a multi-car pile-up, halting the frenzy. Michaela pulls into the pit lane, her hands trembling slightly on the wheel as adrenaline mixes with anxiety. The tension in the garage is palpable as her team gathers around her.

“It's now or never. I have a chance to finish on the podium, but everything can change in an instant. I can’t let the moment slip away.” Her tone is only aided by the urgency of the soundtrack as it mirrors the intensity of the race.

With fresh soft tires bolted on, she rejoins the fray as if being unleashed from her reins, carving her way through the pack with a renewed vigor. The cars of Daniel and Checo fight tooth and nail to keep her at bay, but their mistakes prove opportunities for the young Australian to lunge for their positions as if entranced in a dance of glory.

As the final laps approach, Alex's Red Bull is in an uneasy reach. One wrong move, and she'd be in the barriers.

"This is it, Michaela. One chance to make history," her engineer's words echo into the pink of her helmet. On his heels, she waits for her moment in hungry waiting.

The sun breaks through the clouds, creating a surreal glow. The reality of her position sent electric shocks of adrenaline through her body, eager for just one more position. The crowd's roar is deafening, a living, breathing entity urging her on. Just one more position.

“Michaela is making history today. She’s not just participating; she’s competing at the highest level.” This time it is Lewis who provides his resounding input. The certainty in both tone and expression serves as reminders of his support for the younger driver.

The final few laps loom, the tension thick enough to keep the rain clouds from returning to cause havoc on the Tuscan track. Michaela’s heart pounds as she battles wheel-to-wheel with Alex. Each turn is a high-stakes gamble, and with every flick of the steering wheel, she inches closer to her dream.

With sheer determination, she launches a daring move, slipping past her friend like a bolt of lightning. Caught off guard, Alex slams a frustrated hand onto his wheel, quick to swear as he watches the Australian bolt off onto the straight.

In another instant, the checkered flag waves Michaela crossing the coveted finish line, her heart pounding in her chest, disbelief mingling with euphoria. The home fans erupt into an unsettling hum of pure excitement. The history made before their eyes is not lost on their eager hearts, a frenzy of feet rushing to break through the barriers keeping them from the track.

As she pulls into the previously distant third-place slot, her team erupts in an explosion of joy, the air filled with cheers and hugs. Freeing herself from the confines of her signature red car, Michaela can hardly contain herself as she runs into the arms of her awaiting team. Tears rush down the curves of her brown face. Leaping over the barriers, Fred Vasseur envelops her in a tight embrace, tears glistening in his eyes, pride radiating from every pore.

“This is a historic moment for our team and women in motorsport. Michaela has shown that all of the sacrifice, it pays off.” Fred laughs gleefully, recalling the rush of emotions as they pumped joy into his lungs.

Michaela steps onto the podium, her heart racing as her name is called and her flag is flown over her head. The yellow, sewn laurels of her dad cap almost feel inexplicably heavy upon her head as the weight of her accomplishment lands upon her consciousness, soaring around her like a celebration of freedom. The trophy glistens in her hands, a tangible representation of her hard-won journey. The roar of the crowd envelops her, their cheers echoing like a powerful wave crashing against the shores of her dreams.

“Regardless of team loyalties," Susie laughs this time. Her white Mercedes polo stood out against the familiar gray of the confessional background.

"This podium isn’t just a personal victory; it’s a win for all women in motorsport—past, present, and future."

As the sun sets over Tuscany, casting long shadows across the circuit, the celebrations continue. Michaela stands amidst her team, her heart swelling with gratitude and disbelief. The sticky champagne doused over her head by Lewis and Valtteri embeds itself into her skin, a feeling she resolves to never forget.

The camera lingers on the beauty of Tuscany, capturing the triumph of one extraordinary driver, the spirit of the race lingering like the scent of wine grapes over the green landscape.

As the Tuscany Grand Prix of 2020 comes to a close in an electrifying spectacle, whispers of a potential contract with Ferrari for the 2021 season begin to permeate the paddock. The pressroom buzzes with excitement and speculation as Michaela Sommers' remarkable performance ignites discussions about her future in Formula 1.

Rumors swirl like uncertainty in the wind, carrying tales of secret meetings and clandestine negotiations between Michaela's management team and the more prestigious Italian racing team. Unable to remove herself from the swirl of rumors, Michaela enters the press room with a gentle air of cautiousness despite the rush of accomplishment still coursing through her.

Amidst the fervor, Michaela's every move and utterance becomes the subject of intense scrutiny, with journalists and fans alike hanging onto her every word, hoping to grasp insights into her plans.

Maintaining a poised and collected demeanor, Michaela deflects questions about her future plans with a diplomatic, easy grace. Her silence on the matter serves only to fuel the flames of anticipation, leaving fans and pundits alike on tenterhooks as they await an official announcement.

Will offers his expertise, leaning into the speculative tone of the episode.

"It's not completely out of the question that Michaela could be promoted to Ferrari." His brows raise as if eager to learn of the outcome of his narrative. "Especially with Sebastian Vettel's continued cold war with Binotto. A pairing between Leclerc and Sommers could be one of the most competitive pairings next season."

With a casual smile, the smell of champagne still lingering in the air, Michaela deflects the questions with a subtle shrug.

"I appreciate the interest, but my focus right now is on racing for Alfa Romeo. I'm fully committed to giving my best for this team, and any discussions about the future will have to wait until the right time."

Camera flashes glimmer across her smiling face, a direct opposition to her defiant tone.

"Right now, I'm excited to be here and I hope to continue working hard with the incredible team at Alfa Romeo."

She ends her statement with a soft, "Cheers," before lifting herself from her seat. The episode draws to a close as it fades to black, focusing on her retreating figure.

✼. taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

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@melancholyy-hill @emmma323 @valluvsu

@futuristiccroissantlampsludge @treehouse-mouse @sunfairry

[kirain]

I know he's not your romance, but can I request a wholesome Astarion fic plz?

Astarion frowned as he and Tav entered the modest boutique. It was small, but clean; organised. It had an almost rustic charm to it, featuring large windows adorned with delicate lace curtains, which were tied back just enough to let the sun shine through. That was appreciated, as Astarion had grown weary of the dark.

He said nothing as his favoured traveling companion scanned the outfits on the walls, cupping her chin as she considered and rejected each one. Carefully curated as they were, she seemed to be looking for something specific. The soft lighting highlighted racks of unique frocks, hand-knitted sweaters, and artisanal jewelry, but she passed them all by.

Why did she bring me to this rundown shack?

Astarion huffed. Has she noticed how tatty my clothes are? No, she's not that perceptive.

His eyes widened as Tav's finger suddenly pointed at some lingerie behind the shopkeeper's counter. His heart sank.

Of course ... she wants to dress me in something risqué. Expose my body. Why am I not surprised? There's nothing more "sexy" than a vampire, after all. He bit the tip of his thumb, feigning indifference. So in the end, she's just like all the others. A horny, selfish—!

"No, no! Not that!" she laughed. "The one beside it."

Astarion flinched, trying to hide his shock as the shopkeeper passed her a plain ashmeadow outfit. It wasn't particularly bright or stylish, but the pattern was subtle, casually elegant, and paired with lightweight trousers, likely designed to ease movement.

"What do you think?" she asked, unfolding the pieces for a better view. "Doesn't it look nice and comfy?"

Astarion hesitated. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised every inch. Overall, the outfit was dull, at least compared to his usual garb, but pleasant in all the ways that mattered. It wouldn't grab attention, but it wasn't hideous. It wouldn't make a spectacle of his body, but it would complement his figure, his hair, his eyes. For one brief moment, he felt grateful, but quickly recoiled in mistrust.

Is this a trick?

He quickly waved at the suggestion, bidding the shopkeeper to take the outfit away, but Tav clung to it, staying his hand.

"Wait, what's wrong with it? You don't like it?"

"I appreciate your confidence in me, darling, but I don't think even I could make that dreary ensemble look good. That's something you'd see a pig farmer wearing." He gave her a seductive grin. "Surely you'd like to see me in something more ... exotic."

Disgusting, but I need her protection. Just fuck me, already. Get it over with. Why the song and dance? Why the charade? Am I not being forward enough? Perhaps I should should try the 'lonely bachelor' angle.That tends to work best on sensitive women like this.

Tav raised a brow, her confusion genuine, but Astarion didn't believe it. He couldn't.

"No, I just think this suits you," she said.

Astarion scoffed, thrown by her sincerity. There was no hint of sarcasm or trickery in her tone. No indication that she was fulfilling some mundane kink by picking such an outfit. But it didn't make sense. He hadn't been particularly kind to her, and he was only good for one thing: sex. Surely that's what she was after.

"Did you not hear what I said?" he snapped. "That's something a pig farmer—"

"What's wrong with being a pig farmer?" she argued. "They work hard, live free, and dress for comfort."

"And I'll have you know, that outfit is not for farming," the shopkeeper added, visibly offended. "I mean, I suppose you could. It's certainly durable, but it's more for ... sophisticated roving."

"There you go," Tav giggled, harmlessly. "Don't you want to be a 'sophisticated rover', Astarion?"

He pulled back defensively, pursing his lips to hide his fangs. They live free? Dress for comfort? As if I ever had such a choice. She has no idea! His fingers curled into a fist.

"Are you ... mocking me? Is that what this is?"

Are you trying to dress your toy?!

The air around him felt charged, a palpable tension that made it difficult to breathe. A deep red flush spread across his neck, creeping up towards his pale face. The anger was sudden, but uncontrollable, and he didn't know why.

Calm down, you fool. This is nothing. You've been through worse. He screamed internally. So then, why does it hurt more than usual? Why is it worse when it's her?! I ... I don't want her to see me this way, but I know she does! Who wouldn't?!

"Mocking you?" Tav asked, breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, the simple act pulling Astarion from is raging stupor. Her eyes were innocent, unassuming. And of course they were—he hadn't yet told her the truth about Cazador. The details. The depravity.

Hold on. Is this ... real?

"What are you saying?" she peeped. "I brought you here because I noticed how worn out your clothes are. Thin with crooked replacement stitches." Astarion's throat tightened, trying not to blush. "I just thought you might like something new."

"I ... see."

"If you don't like the black and white..." She smiled and gestured to the shopkeeper. "We can order something with colour. Do you take commissions? Can my friend here make alterations?"

Friend?

"He can, and we do indeed sew to order. It just might take a while. I'm down a seamstress this month."

Astarion paused, their voices fading. He looked down at the sleeved tunic and accompanying vest that Tav held close to her chest. It was thick, surprisingly well crafted, and more fashionable than he initially dared to admit. For a moment, he felt his unbeating heart flutter. New clothes. A whole outfit, just for him. He'd forgotten what that felt like. What shopping for anything other than a victim for Cazador felt like.

Against his better judgement, he reached out and rubbed the material between his fingers. Twill. Handcrafted. Warm. He felt a tingle as he realised Tav didn't choose that outfit at random. She'd put a lot of thought into it.

"I want this one."

"Sorry?" Tav said, glancing up at him.

"This outfit." He tugged at the sleeve, gently. "I want this one."

She smiled. "Are you sure? You didn't seem overly thrilled about it a second ago."

"Tch! Well, I changed my mind," he hissed. "What can I say?" His eyes softened. "It's grown on me. Kind of like your ... annoyingly infectious positivity."

"Alright, alright," she laughed, ignoring his jibe. "Can you ring this up, sir?"

Astarion's back stiffened as she reached for her coin purse. Money, right. That hadn't crossed his mind. As horrible as Cazador was, everything needed was provided. When allowed to sleep on a bed, it was there. When Cazador's guests wanted wine, it was there. Anything needed to rope in victims was given. He hadn't had to buy anything in nearly two hundred years.

"Wait, I—"

"It's no problem," Tav said, sensing his conflict. "I'm happy to do this."

"But..." He frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, don't expect anything back. If that's what you're after, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

"I don't expect anything back, Astarion." She handed the shopkeeper a roll of gold coins, then turned to him with another tender smile. "I'm just glad to help out a friend."

Astarion stood in silence, his brow twitching. A thought occurred to him—two words he hadn't felt the desire to say in two centuries. Two words he'd almost forgotten. He shifted from side to side, looking anywhere but at her, desperate for an escape from the vulnerability pressing down on him.

But I think she truly means it.

"I..."

His mouth opened, then closed again. He cleared his throat, trying to speak, but the silence lingered. He could tell she expected nothing, but for once he wanted to give a part of himself, by choice. Just a few words. The feeling inside him grew, a swell of gratitude he couldn't quite contain. Finally, he sighed and met her eyes with a smile.

"Thank you."

[crowandmousewritingco]

The Correspondence of the Contagious

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x gn!reader x Ellaria Sand

Words: 1.4 k

Rating: G

Summary: Oberyn is away for a few days and illness comes to Dorne.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: This is one of my entries in @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge! This was so fun to write (and thanks to Mod Crow for the help!) Hopefully I'll have the other fic out next week.

My Dearest Viper, 

I hope the Northern kingdoms aren’t dimming your fiery spirit. I know you were hesitant to adventure so far away from your paramores, but I assure you we aren’t going anywhere. Soon you’ll return to the warm embrace of your land and your lovers. On your return we shall keep you in your room drinking and enjoying the company, filling us with as much pleasure as we could handle. 

Dorne is still quite warm despite the seasons changing. Ellaria and I have been spending our days basking in the sun while we still can. We even made up a nice lunch that we enjoyed under the lemon trees in the grove that you adore so much. Once we were full of delicacies (and a taste of each other) we followed the path through the Water Gardens. We look like pies straight from the oven with the amount of sun on our skins. But it was much needed for the both of us. 

Although something must have kicked up some retched pollen because Ellaria has been stuffed up since then. She insists she is okay (you know how stubborn she gets with this sort of affair), but after some well placed cuddles, she allowed herself some rest. That’s where she is right now. Snuggled up beside me as I write this to you. She’s as beautiful as always with her dark hair spread out like crow feathers on our shared pillows. I wish I could illustrate how beautiful she is. You would delight in the sight of her my dear as I am in this moment of time.

With plenty of rest and your herbal tea mix, she should be right as rain in a day or so. No need to worry your little Prince head about. I can handle our lover’s moods while you handle your duties. We shall see you in a fortnight. I shall pray to the Seven for your safety on your journey. 

Your Dove. 

My Dearest Viper,

I know politics have kept you busy so I hope this letter finds you well. At least in a better condition than our paramore. I fear that whatever illness has graced her body has stayed longer than the foreseen time. Her sniffling has turned into a cold. Poor thing has been coughing bouts that last several minutes. Diluted wine helps in the end but only after acquiring a sore throat. 

That wasn't the only thing she received from this illness. She has acquired a bit of a fever over the last few hours and her energy has lessened. But the Maester believes it’s just the bug that has been spreading throughout the castle. He has given her more herbal remedies and plenty of rest as her medication. 

I will continue to watch her with a careful eye. Once again she is resting beside me. Even in sickness she has my deepest love and adoration. I thank the gods every day that I get to be simply in her presence. 

When she wakes I shall see if she wants to spend some time on our balcony. The Maester said that sunlight would be a nice addition to her healing. Oh and I’ll have those berries brought from the kitchen for her to snack on. She was delighted when we went for our walk. They shall lift her spirit and body. 

I’m afraid my time with you is cut short my dear. Our lover stirs beside us. I will write to you once she finds slumber again. I hope the North is treating you as well as they can. 

Your Dove.

My Dearest Viper 

I pray to the Seven that you receive this letter. I’m afraid the sickness was much worse than anyone could have expected. Her fever is at an ultimate and she hasn’t eaten for a few days. The Maester claims that she will arrive on the other side of this pestilence mountain and I am hopeful too. But it’s hard to have reassurance when your lover shakes like the leaves in the wind. Pelts have been placed on her body but they do nothing to keep her from shivering. She sleeps like a princess with a spell placed on her. I rouse her only to eat and drink. 

I pray your journey will end soon so that your presence can heal her as much as mine. I didn’t want to raise your worry while you were away, but I’m scared. Less severe sickness has taken loved ones, and my soul is in an unrest. I wish for your strength my dear. You have an aptitude for these sorts of situations. 

I wish to keep writing to you, for I feel your presence in these words, but I fear I’ve run out of subjects to discuss. Please return soon my dearest Oberyn. 

Your Dove

What you didn’t tell Oberyn was that you were suffering the same ailments Ellaria was currently experiencing. Your fever was just as high as Ellaria’s and you clung together in sickness, bodies shaking in unison. The need for food seemed like a distant afterthought, and your stomach cramp every time you coughed. 

Ellaria whimpered and your head peaked up. You had tuned your senses to anything she might need during this time even if it meant ignoring your own needs. “My love, let me get you something to drink.” You weakly kissed your head as it took all of your energy to even sit up but you had to do this for her. 

You swung your legs over the sides. The wind felt cold against your bare skin despite the warm summer heat still lingering. Your breath seemed to struggle to enter your lungs, but you pushed yourself up. Ellaria needed you; your body be damned. Carefully your hands braced themselves on the wall. Using the rough texture as your guide, you shuffled your feet in slow deliberate steps. 

But the pestilence in your body had made you weak, for your legs could no longer hold your weight. As you felt yourself pitch forward a strong pair of arms was the only thing stopping you from hitting the ground. The sudden stoppage of momentum threw you off and you couldn’t make heads or tails of what just occurred.

A familiar voice filled the room. “My dove what are you doing out of bed?” You glanced up despite the pounding in your head. Oberyn looked down at your body with worry. Gently he situated you so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I thought…you’re here,” You said and the weight of the last days finally made themselves known. You teared up and Oberyn guided your weak head to his shoulder, letting your body rest against his chest. 

“I’m here dove,” He soothed your anxieties. Up and down your back his hands soothed your anxieties. He could feel the exhaustion in the way you held your body. You went to speak, but a coughing fit seized you instead. 

“Easy love,” Oberyn soothed, sitting you up slightly, holding your weakened body up. You whimpered as the coughs turned into labored breathing before calming down completely. 

“I-I thought you would never return,” You whispered as tears formed in your tired eyes. 

“My dove. I left the Northern kingdoms as soon as I heard of Ellaria’s ailment,” He reassured you gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead. “Those clever ravens still found me. Why didn’t you tell me you were ill too?” 

Tears streamed down your hot cheeks, and with a gentle swipe of his thumb, Oberyn rid of them. “I-I…I was so worried about Ellaria.” 

“Shhh none of that now. I know you were so brave my dearest, but now let me care for my paramores,” Oberyn kissed your forehead before gently laying you back alongside Ellaria. 

Just like you had done for the last several days, you curled up beside her touching your fevered heads together. Oberyn arranged the blankets back into place. He turned around and grabbed the washcloths from the nearby water basin, wringing the excess water. With a gentleness unusual to such a warrior, he placed the cloths, one on Ellaria’s forehead and then one on yours. 

You sighed at the cooling relief of the water, and you felt your eyes drooping the weight of handling this alone dissipating. A gentle hand caressed your cheek. “Rest now my dove. I’m here now,” Oberyn whispered, leaning down to kiss your chapped lips. With your safety net here, you finally let yourself relax as a much needed sleep consumes your consciousness.

All Works Taglist

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

Thanks to the lovely @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

[thehollowwriter]

Ok so since i love sad but bad boys i'm gonna ask blaze for your event-

How about reader(gender neutral or fem your choice) who is blaze's childhood friend and tries to make him realize what his mother wants is not what he wants

Thank you! (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

Hi! Sorry for the late reply! Yaaay a Blaze ask <3

Warnings: None. Word count: 520

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

Art by @/moonyasnow

Choose

Blaze sat on one of the rocks closest to the shimmering water of the sea, throwing and catching a smooth, circular rock as he stared at the horizon. It was painted with beautiful purples and oranges as the sun gradually dipped down to welcome the night, giving Blaze at least something to appreciate on this shitty shitty day.

"You should get in," you said to him from your spot within the water, your tail flicking back and forth happily. "The water's wonderful."

"No." Blaze muttered. He didn't feel like changing forms right now. It was such an exhausting process.

An awkward silence reigned for a moment. Blaze kept throwing and catching his rock. Eventually, you spoke. "Your mom again?"

Blaze didn't answer for a while. He stopped throwing the rock and stared at it, turning it over in his hands.

"...I didn't get a main role in our theatre production." He growled out after a while, his voice softer and rougher than usual. "Not even a side character. I'm... 'too wooden'. Mom says she's wasting money and time on me if this is what she gets back for all those acting lessons..." He put his head in his hands. "I'm tyring. I'm trying so hard, but she just doesn't care. Now she wants me to do lessons and advice from Vil fucking Schoenheit."

You didn't say anything for a while. The same string of thoughts you always had every time Blaze mentioned acting flooded through your mind.

'You shouldn't have to be an actor,' you wanted to say, 'Do what you want. Don't you want to choose what to do with your life?'

You rarely did, though. He got so upset every time. But a question on the tip of your tongue escaped before you could stop it.

"Blaze," you said before you could stop yourself. "Is acting what you really want to do? It's more your... your mom's wishes than your own."

Blaze glanced at you, then threw his rock. It skipped across the water before sinking below the waves and into the ocean's depths.

"Of course it's what I want!" He hissed venomously. "I don't even like Alchemy that much. It's just an interesting subject!"

You drew in a breath, refraining from pointing out that you never mentioned alchemy.

"But you don't like acting either." You insisted. "You always hate going to classes. You said you wanted to be in a different club too-"

"Because I hate hearing Vil talk like he's all that when his daddy's money gave him everything! I would like it if that bastard wasn't there!"

You grinded your teeth. "Blaze, you've never been happy about anything to do with acting. You don't like acting. This isn't what you want, Blaze, it's your mom who-"

"Will you shut up?" Blaze hissed. "I'm going to be an actor, and I'm to be Vil Schoenheit levels of famous! You can either support me like a good friend should or get lost."

There was a long pause.

"Okay, well," you said, hiding your hurt. You picked up a smooth circular stone of your own and threw it in the same direction as Blaze threw his. It only skipped a few times before sinking. "Best of luck."

A heavy silence reigned between the both of you. You stared at Blaze. You stared at his face, the way his jaw set in a grimace, and the way his eyes seemed to water.

He could do so much more, be so much more, but he didn't want to. Or he didn't think he could. It hurt to see. But you stayed silent.

You disappeared into the water and left Blaze to sit on his rock. Alone.

-End

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! Blaze is a bit mean, sorry :(

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps

[rainfoxx13]

He found the only spot of sunlight to set up his tent 🥹

[zeb-z]

Arthur Bennett was chemically made in a lab for me to go insane over I think. he’s got a guilt only an older sibling could have and a drive for vengeance that is half driven by his own self hatred. yet still he strives for peace. he’s desperate to cling to any humanity, any hope. he’s aware he’s fallible. it doesn’t save him

[hecksupremechips]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[hoshigray]

Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”

“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“

“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”

Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.

Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!

Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 

Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 

Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”

The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”

“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”

“You son of a—“

“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”

Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”

Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”

The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.

But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.

The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.

He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”

“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”

“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.

You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.

With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”

He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“

“Alright, round’s over!” 

Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”

“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”

“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.

“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”

You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”

He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 

His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…

You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”

Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”

“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”

“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”

Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.

“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”

“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”

“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  

Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 

Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 

You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”

“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”

“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”

“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 

“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”

“Choke on my dick!”

“You first.”

The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.

As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.

…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.