#replies/asks on here are always welcome as well

[confuzing]

...So, that All the Shen Siblings Transmigrate AU? I wrote the Qijiu reconciliation in that universe. It's 1800 words long so I'm gonna read more most of it.

 Yue Qingyuan woke in the dead of night and found himself unable to move from the neck down. A shadowy figure was leaving his room.  He would be more concerned about this if he didn’t recognize the toddler the shadowy figure had left sitting on his chest.

“Shen Meishan,” he greeted her. “It’s nice to see you.”

Meimei giggled at him. 

“Clearly your brothers are up to something,” he said. “Do you know what?”

Meimei answered, but she was unfortunately in that stage of babyhood where most of what she said was babbling, and he did not possess her brothers’ talent for interpreting her. He thought he caught the word ‘gege’ but that wasn’t much help.

“I see,” he said. At least his training in diplomacy had taught him what to do when someone was talking nonsense.

Meimei nodded solemnly, then reached out and poked his nose.

“Ding!” she said.

“Oh fascinating,” Yue Qingyuan said.  “I didn’t know it did that.”

Meimei giggled again.

It had likely been the eldest Shen who had paralyzed him.  Qian Cao doctors could do a lot with their acupuncture needles- though he wouldn’t put it past Shen Yuan to have found a plant or artifact that had the same effect.

He could hear a scuffle coming his way, so he’d find out soon enough.

The door to his room opened and he watched Shen Qingqiu be wrestled into the room by his brothers.

“Shen Qingqiu,” he greeted. He didn’t get a response but that was understandable, Shen Qingqiu was busy.

“Shen Xuan,” he continued his greetings.  Technically it was Chen Xuan, but the eldest Shen had stopped protesting the name change months ago.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen Xuan replied calmly. Like he didn’t have his brother in a headlock, and as if he couldn’t feel Xiao Jiu biting his arm.

“Shen Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan concluded.

His disciple winced but then put on the same serene mask his siblings often wore and said, “Shizun.”

Surprisingly Luo Binghe wasn’t present.  Shen Yuan’s ever present shadow was not welcome at whatever this was… that actually made Yue Qingyuan a little nervous.

Shen Yuan deliberately tripped Shen Jiu, allowing Shen Xuan to manhandle him down onto the bed beside Yue Qingyuan.

Meimei giggled at the ‘thump’ they made hitting the bed.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Shen Jiu snapped at her with less than a quarter of his usual venom.

Shen Jiu was face down on the bed; Shen Xuan seated himself on his back while Shen Yuan sat on his legs. Shen Xuan also pinned Shen Jiu’s wrists.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled at full venom.

“We’re here to ask Qi-ge some questions.” Shen Xuan said. 

The ‘Qi-ge’ made his heart freeze. Oh.  That’s what this was about. 

Xiao Jiu went wild, nearly succeeding in bucking his siblings off him before he seemed to surrender completely.

“He isn’t going to fucking say anything.” Shen Jiu said. “He never fucking does.”

“Well we’re gonna sit here until he does,” Shen Yuan piped up.  “We have co-conspirators, you won’t be missed for some time Shizun.”

Ah, that’s where Luo Binghe was, possibly Mu Qingfang was in on this as well. If that was the case he could truly go unmissed for at least a day or so before anyone got suspicious and came looking.

“Now,” Shen Xuan said. “Why didn’t you come back for Shen Jiu like you promised?”

The familiar omnipresent guilt washed over him, but the audience didn’t change his response.

“I am very sorry for what I’ve done,” he said.

Having four Shens glare at him was a new experience- much more oppressive than just one.

Meimei crawled off his chest and went to sit in Shen Yuan’s lap.

“See?” Shen Jiu said. “This is fucking pointless.”

Yue Qingyuan had not met Chen Xuan before he became Shen Xuan. The eldest Shen had always seemed like a calm, level-headed, and sweet man to him.  Now he watched the man get quietly furious just as Xiao Jiu did, before his face shifted into the cold calculating look Yue Qingyuan saw most often on Xiao Jiu or Shen Yuan.

Shen Xuan looked down at Shen Jiu. “I’m sorry didi.” He said, and bent to kiss Shen Jiu’s temple.

Shen Jiu couldn’t turn his head more than it was, but he clearly wanted to, squirming to try to get a better look at his older brother.  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

Shen Xuan ignored him and locked eyes with Yue Qingyuan.

“He thinks you hate him you know,” Shen Xuan said. “He thinks you never intended to come back for him and that you threw him away like trash. Is he right?”

Yue Qingyuan was thunderstruck, that couldn’t be right- surely Xiao Jiu knew how much he adored him. He couldn’t-

Xiao Jiu let out a stifled sob. Yue Qingyuan tried for the first time since waking to move- but he couldn’t.  The other Shen siblings on the other hand moved immediately. Both Shen Jiu’s brothers got off him, Shen Xuan pulling Shen Jiu up into a seated position to hug him.  Shen Yuan and Meimei scooting over to hug him from the other side, sandwiching Xiao Jiu in the middle of his siblings.  Xiao Jiu hid his face in Shen Yuan’s hair for a moment before looking over at Yue Qingyuan.

“Just say it already,” Shen Jiu said-begged.  His eyes were wet. “Just say you hate me so we can stop fucking pretending.”

“Xiao Jiu is my favorite person in the world. I could never hate him.” Yue Qingyuan heard himself say.

Had Xiao Jiu truly thought this the whole time? Was that why he was so angry? Not because he was mad at him for being an idiot, but because he thought Yue Qingyuan was pretending not to hate him? 

But of course that was why, he realized. His own agitation made qi surge between himself and Xuan Su on its stand across the room.  After all Xiao Jiu had no idea how stupid his Qi-ge had been.

“You left me,” Xiao Jiu snapped. “And you never came back. What was I supposed to think?”

What indeed? What had the expected Xiao Jiu to do? He’d been so young when they parted, and so sensitive to any rejection.  Of course he’s thought Yue Qingyuan had abandoned him.  He really was tremendously stupid.

“I did come back,” Yue Qingyuan said. Explaining was like ripping his own heart out of his chest, like being alone in those caves again- but he’d endured it once for Xiao Jiu, he would do it again. “I was too late.”

“What?”

“I spent a week digging through the smoldering ruins of Qiu manor before my Shizun came and dragged me back to the sect. I thought you were dead.  Seeing you alive at the Immortal Alliance Conference was the best day of my life.”

Xiao Jiu’s eyes were wide as saucers, his whole face a picture of shock. 

“Gege let him up,’ he said eventually.

Shen Xuan stopped hugging him just long enough to remove the acupuncture needles from Yue Qingyuan’s neck.

He had the strangest sensation of something crawling all over him for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of sitting up so he could look Xiao Jiu in the eyes.

“Why did you take so long?” he asked.

Yue Qingyuan grimaced, but Xiao Jiu deserved to know.

“Qi-ge did something very foolish,” he said.

“He always does when I’m not there to keep an eye on him.” Xiao Jiu countered. “He’s simply an idiot I fear.”

The affection in those insults was a balm on his soul. He took a deep breath and spilled his guts.

“I was going to come for you as soon as I got my spiritual sword.  I trained as hard as I could as fast as I could- but when I went to pull my sword… I thought I needed the best sword, the strongest, to save Xiao Jiu.”

“Xuan Su didn’t pick me, I forced the bond.”

All three Shen brothers gasped. Adorably, a beat later Meimei did as well.

“Can you do that?” Shen Yuan asked.

“Only if you want to literally explode.” Shen Xuan told him.

“How are you alive?” he asked Yue Qingyuan.

“I was a good enough match the sword didn’t immediately kill me- and then my Shizun bound my soul to Xuan Su’s qi.  The process kept me alive, but Xuan Su remade my spiritual veins and bones to suit its needs- I was essentially qi deviating the entire time it was happening.”

“How long was that?” Xiao Jiu asked.

“A year. They sealed me in a chamber in the Ling Xi caves so I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Except yourself!” Xiao Jiu hissed. “The chamber with the bloodstains…”

“Yes.” Yue Qingyuan said, eyes dropping. “I came for you the moment they let me out- but it was too late.”

Warm arms embraced him, he looked up to find Xiao Jiu hugging him, and glaring more.

“You absolute fucking idiot!” he snapped.  “Why the fuck would you need a giant fucking sword to come fly me away?”

“This one is lost without his Xiao Jiu.”

“Clearly you half-wit!”

“You never draw your sword,” Shen Xuan said.  He was clearly herding the youngest two Shens toward the door.

“When I do it burns through my own life-force.” Yue Qingyuan explained.

Xiao Jiu’s arms tightened around him.  If he was lucky they would leave bruises.

“Does Mu Qingfang know?” Shen Xuan asked.

“Before tonight he was the only other person still on this plane besides me who knew.”

Shen Xuan nodded.

“Shen Yuan,” Xiao Jiu said suddenly. “Do not tell that little beast about this.”

Shen Yuan nodded and left, holding Meimei.  Shen Xuan was right behind them.

Once they were gone Yue Qingyuan said. “He’s absolutely going to tell Luo Binghe.”

“I know.” Xiao Jiu grumbled. “I’ll threaten the brat into silence later.”

He eyed Yue Qingyuan. “I’m still mad at you,” he said. He had not let go of Yue Qingyuan yet.

“I deserve all the anger you want to give me,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I failed to save you, and then I let you suffer while I wallowed in self pity and shame.”

Xiao Jiu slapped him hard. “And you nearly killed yourself you stupid piece of shit!”

Yue Qingyuan was still stunned from the slap when Xiao Jiu kissed him hard, biting his lip until it bled.  He was only just able to kiss back before Xiao Jiu pulled away.

He had Yue Qingyuan’s blood on his teeth as he spoke. “You aren’t allowed to die- do you understand?” He shoved Yue Qingyuan down on to his back and climbed on top of him. “I forbid it!”

“Of course, whatever Xiao Jiu wants.”

Xiao Jiu huffed and bent over him.

“Good,”” he snapped and bit Yue Qingyuan’s mouth again. “Don’t you forget!”

[dissolved-g1rl]

Okk maybe it's about to sound confusing so just ignore it if you feel like so yeah but how about a Dante x reader which is focused on their emotional intimacy. Like Dante isn't ready to get attached, reader don't feel like taking responsibility of being partner but they use each other to feel/experience the love. Whether it's a flirty comment to sleeping in each other's arms, everything is accepted, except just for real love and it's focus on their immaturity (ig), like it's supposed to be an unconcluded scenario. Will their love ever turn true? Who knows? Will they still be close to each other? Who knows? Will be they together tomorrow again? No one knows. But are they together now, in this present? Yes and they enjoy it.

Sorry if it's too long and still confusing. Have a nice day ahead regardless💗

be my weekend lover, but dont be my friend ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ♡

Fighting demons is an unreliable job. The demand for killers won’t wear out, but you will. Only one thing is guaranteed, you will die doing this job. You’ve become sensitized to this, death has no longer become a taboo subject to you. It’s an honest way to make a living, you have enough impact to make you feel satisfied, and well you definitely get your kicks.

Chasing adrenaline is easy to do when you know a guy like Dante. The terror you felt watching a demon rip his arm off was indescribable, but the unheard of happened, he lived. With everyone else in this industry dropping like flies, a sturdy killer like Dante is a needed relief. You don’t have to worry about him, he’ll be there, in one whole piece. He’ll be there in any way you really need him, well…physically speaking. Which is lovely, “boyfriend” how immature, you’re too busy for something as stupid as a label. Besides, it never works out anyways, then you’d be down a friend…a really good friend.

The trip to his side of town is familiar, the take a left down the same corner you always do and there you are. You’re welcomed in warmly. It’s routine, one kiss on the cheek, a shy smile is exchanged, a misalignment of upturned mouths. “Hi.” He murmurs, steadying you for a proper kiss. You slot together perfectly fine, chest to chest, heart to heart. “Hey.” Is your reply when he pulls away. He lightly rubs across your bottom lip with his thumb, knuckles under your chin to keep you upright. he steals another kiss.

Easy chatter is shared over lukewarm beers, his overhead lights create warmth that spreads over the office. It had been a little eerie in the beginning, not enough light to make out certain shadows. Now, it’s sort of comforting, Dante looks good in low lighting, makes his stark hair color muted, but the blue in his eyes pop. Gives everything a hazy, almost sleepy feel, thats the excuse you come up to rationalize getting tangled up in his bed again.

“How’d you get this one?” he asks, cool fingers grazing across your marred skin. “Got bit by a dog when I was little, ‘s not from a fight or anything.” You murmur, he hums in acknowledgment, “Are you scared of them now?” Dante catches your gaze, his mouth pressing against your scar, gentle as can be. “No, it was a one off thing.” You laugh airily, and he smiles. Dante feels a sense of accomplishment making you laugh, he thinks you have a nice one. He didn’t want to get used to hearing it, here he is though, relishing in it. He doesn’t want to think about how you make him feel. Sometimes its like you’re a salve being applied to his worst wounds, the only thing that provide a moment of peace throughout an otherwise painful experience. Other times he dreads it, it’s making him weak to pain he should be used to by now. He was used to it. That all seems to be a long time ago.

Dante keeps tracing over little spots of skin. He doesn’t know your insides, but he knows about the ticklish spot on the side of your neck, how you got the jagged scar on the side of your wrist, the mole near your clavicle. He lightly douses your skin with flittering kisses, and he’ll hold you tonight if you let him. Neither of you can face up to your actions in the harsh light of the morning. So please, just don’t be there when he wakes up. That’s not something he can heal from, Dante’s sure of that.

dividers by @enchanthings

a/n: i think i understood what u meant, if not i apologize, hope u like it anon :)

[kandavers]

Not an ask but OH MY GOSH??? You post your art on Twitter??? You're so strong for that slaaaay because I stepped one foot into the lads fandom on there and immediately got a headache 🧍the queers are not welcome there-

Anyway I love your art and I hope you're having a good day/evening ♡

ughh so trueee

i think every community on twitter is vile asf tho... they haven't heard of curating their own experience on the internet hahaha

For those who dont know, i posted starcrow and that got a looooot of hate comments (which i am used to so it was really easy to ignore), whats funny was that someone actually @ the official love and deepspace account like something was gonna happen 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

one of my followers replied saying that infold could possibly make more money if they added a male mc to the game as well, to which i replied with "yeah, ive heard of this happening but idk tho because they dont even have cutscenes for the already female MC with short hair" and soooooo many radfems replied to these, making accusations like "men r always trying to invade women's spaces" or "this is textboox misogyny" and even better yet, some homophobic slurs! though i do see where theyre coming from, this is just us wishful thinking... we KNOW infold isn't going to do that, so it's just a little funny (and sad) to see them get so worked up over nothing. they were more pissed at me for wishing i could have short hair in cutscenes that me drawing gay fanart of their LIs 😭 LOL

anyways heres a funny tweet from me

even this silly tweet got them on my ass (expected)

i'm just saying, if they really are feminists and care about safe spaces for women as they are claiming at ALL, why don't they spend more time fighting for abortion rights or something rather than defending an otome gacha game

[saturnyo]

I love your writingg!!! Could I request a cute Joel x reader where they're cuddling on the couch on a grey rainy day and Joel has his head leaning on reader's shoulder with his nose pressed to her neck and then his hand just casually pulls reader's top slightly down to look at her breast and reader playfully scolds him but later ensues into smut

Rainy Days, Greedy Eyes

Thank you, anon, for this request. I do hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Joel x Reader

Warnings: Language, Oral, P in V sex, Fingering, Soft!Joel x Filthy!Joel, Praise kink, Established relationship, Light breeding kink vibes (implied, not stated),

WC: a lil over 2.4k

It had been a long day out patrolling your assigned area with Jesse and Dina. The wind was bitingly cold, adding to the weariness in your bones.

A few clickers here and some runners there—it wasn’t anything you three couldn’t handle. It was cut short because of the inclement weather starting to roll in. The dark, jagged clouds seemed angry, like bruised knuckles, rain beating down, roaring its disapproval, unrelenting against your back. The trek back to Jackson felt longer than normal. The familiar walls were a welcome sight as the gates opened up, letting out a groan against the mechanisms pulling it open, matching the same weariness you were currently feeling.

Sore. Wrung out. Craving the warmth of a fire, cuddling up to the man you love. Despite the noises of various people asking questions about how the patrol went, reports, or what sightings of infected you saw, and helping your horse back to the stables, you nodded, murmured a reply you didn’t even hear yourself say.

There was only one thing on your mind at the moment.

You walk inside the familiar suburban home, catching the sight of a worn brown leather jacket hanging on the coat rack. A smile flitters across your face, joy spreading in your chest at who is in your home. The sound of a saw grates against your ears, coming from the small basement workshop you have downstairs. He didn’t hear you approach, being too focused on the task at hand, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he squinted at his current project like he’s willing it into submission.

“Mr. Miller, if you keep squinting like that I fear you may somehow go blind,” you said.

Joel didn’t even flinch from where he sat. Still perfectly poised on his stool and hunched over the workbench. He just kept working on the stubborn piece of wood, trying to shape it—whatever he was trying to make this time. His muscles in his forearm flexed, tendons shifting like the gears in something you just couldn’t resist.

“Darlin’,” he murmured, slow and thick, voice like molasses poured over gravel, “if I do go blind, it’ll be from starin’ at you too long.”

Then he turned. Really turned. Slid his glasses up with one hand so he could see you clearly—and when he did, that look hit you like a goddamn truck. The kind of gaze that didn’t waver or drift. The kind that sank into you.

His brows dipped, voice softening. “Baby… you look so tired.”

You exhaled, the weight of the day suddenly sitting heavier on your shoulders.

“Yeah. It was a long one. Ran into some clickers. Couple runners. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened. He always did that when it came to you patrolling, and if you got hurt—no matter the circumstances. Joel disagreed—well, more like downright said hell no—when Tommy mentioned you could start heading out for patrols. His fear overrode all logic, even knowing you were fully capable. Joel crossed the space between you, slow and sure, taking your face gently into his hands.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No,” you murmured, shaking your head. “Just tired. And cold.”

Joel hummed—low, thoughtful—that familiar sound rumbling from his chest like a distant thunder roll. He looked at you like he always did… like you were something precious, even now, with your hair damp and sticking to your face, eyes heavy from the weight of the day. You knew you looked a mess. Didn’t matter. Not to him.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, rough and warm against the chill clinging to your skin.

“I told Tommy you shouldn’t be out there.”

“You say that every time.”

“And I mean it,” he said, steady and firm, “every fuckin’ time.”

Then he leaned in, his presence swallowing the chill in an instant. You could smell him—cedar, sawdust, the faint bite of old cologne buried in flannel. He smelled like home, like heat, like his hands would be warm even in the snow.

He dipped his head close, voice dropping to a hush.

“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go somewhere warm. Fire’s goin’. Couch’s waitin’.”

The glowing fire cast a shade of orange across the lines and grooves of Joel’s face, making him look even more defined. His disheveled hair tickled your chin as his head rested on your chest, the weight centering you in place. Feeling safe and grounded, his breathing and light touches circling your thigh were comforting. His fingers danced along the outside of your pants, sending your nerves alight. Like a whisper with teeth.

Nothing screamed urgency. It was just you and him alone, and the world outside was closed off, unable to break apart your peace. You breathed in sharply as the circles he drew on your thighs—tracing the seam of your pants near your knee and back up—grew slower, tantalizing. Testing you, teasing you. The corners of his mouth curled when the side of his face started to press against your boobs.

Joel just couldn’t get enough of them, grabbing and teasing them every chance he got. In bed at night, he would curl up against you, lying his head in the same exact spot as he was now, using them as personal pillows. But you didn’t mind. The closeness was something you treasured after witnessing the harshness of reality.

His eyes fell from your face to your chest as his hands finally moved to the collar of your shirt. Your brow furrowed as Joel pulled the fabric slightly, giving him the perfect glimpse of your boobs. Rolling your eyes as you chuckled at his antics, a deep belly laugh spilled out before you could catch it—loud and warm, shaking your shoulders and making Joel’s smile go crooked.

“Joel! That’s very naughty and misbehaving,” you said playfully. “Trying to get a full view of my chest, huh?”

He looked back up at you, eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming with something dark—mischievous, hungry. His voice dropped low, slow, like he wanted every word to sink into your skin and stay there.

“Baby,” he rasped, “if I wanted a full view of your chest, I wouldn’t be takin’ a peek…”

His fingers tugged a little more at the collar, thumb brushing the edge of your skin.

“I’d be takin’ your damn shirt off.”

The way he said it—so calm, cool, and collected. It wasn’t a threat but a promise. A promise you hoped he would fulfill, sending a wave of heat rushing between your legs. His rough hands found their way underneath your shirt, staking a claim where everyone in Jackson would know whose woman you are. His touch was unforgiving, needy, like he’d been holding back all day.

He sat in that office of his, spending hours figuring out how to quicken the pace of construction of the new homes in town, as Maria had asked. His hands—calloused, warm—slid up beneath the fabric slow, but not gentle. Not hesitant. Like he already knew every inch of you but needed to remind your body that it was him who gets to touch it, not anyone else.

Joel cupped your breast with a possessive pressure that made your breath hitch, thumbs grazing your nipples until they stiffened under his touch. Your shirt bunched around your ribs as his palms roamed, shifting his weight as he carefully laid you onto your back. He was hungry, starving like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. A soft gasp was coaxed from your lips as he pressed his hard-on against your clothed pussy. Your back arched as you ground your hips against him like you could smother the ache that had been building up since you got home.

“Yeah,” Joel breathed, voice ragged with desire. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Take what you need.”

You whimpered, helpless under his weight as the fire continued to cast shadow across his face. He leaned in, teeth scraping along the pulse in your neck—not biting, but letting you feel how close he was to doing it. You didn’t get a word out before he ripped off your clothes. Joel tossed your shirt and pants to the side, already moving to the clasp of your bra, leaving you just in your panties. You arched, desperate, as the fabric popped free. His eyes dropped.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he hissed, sinking slightly down below as he put one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make your toes curl. One hand palmed the other breast, squeezing, claiming, rough fingers dragging over the peak until you moaned out loud—no shame, no filter, just need.

“You’ve been walking around all day with these beneath your gear?” Joel growled, licking a slow stripe along your chest. “Breaks my brain that you’re mine.”

His hands worked fast, finally taking off your underwear, tugging them down your hips. You gasped as the cold air hit your wet cunt, but the heat of Joel’s breath was right behind it.

“Fuck me,” Joel rasped. His eyes locked onto the slick mess between your thighs. His voice was barely above a whisper but it hit—like gravel dragged across velvet. “Is that all for me, darlin’?”

You couldn’t answer. Especially not when his thick fingers spread your folds apart, exposing the glistening heat beneath. Cool air kissed your clit. Then came the heat of his mouth.

He started licking like a man who was starved.

Flat tongue dragged from your entrance to your clit, expertly moving, savoring like it’s a meal he’d earned after years in hell. Then he did it again. And again. Each pass more firm, more wet, sloppier. Until his whole face was buried in your pussy, moaning like he’d die if you even thought about pulling away.

You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head, squeezing, and grabbing his hair—anchoring yourself as he devoured you.

“Joel—fuck—baby—please…”

“Mmmmm.” His voice vibrated right against your clit, and your hips jerked restlessly. He held them down.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart. You can take it.”

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking. Slow and tight, his tongue flicking as he pumped his fingers back inside you—two thick ones curling deep, stroking your sweet spot until you were writhing under him once again.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. His lips were soaked and his beard was shining with your wetness. “Ride my fuckin’ face… please.”

And God, you did.

You rocked against him—just a mess, moaning—wailing—as his tongue moved with perfect precision. His fingers fucked into you, harder and faster, filthy wet sounds filling the room alongside the crackle of the fire. The heat of it matched the intensity of his thrusting fingers, making you wild with need.

Your orgasm hit like a wave crashing against the shore—sharp, hot, blinding. Your whole body seized as you came with a cry, your legs trembling, cunt pulsing around his fingers as he kept licking, eating, like he couldn’t get enough.

“Love how you taste,” he growled. He finally pulled away, dragging his mouth across your stomach and up your chest, giving you a kiss that tasted exactly like you.

Then he stood—tall, solid like a rock. You saw the thick line of his cock straining behind his jeans and reached for him, desperate to feel his touch again. You wanted to feel him in your hands, in your mouth—but he grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your place, and pinned them above your head as he leaned over you.

“You think I’m done with you, darlin’?” Joel rasped. “Not yet.”

He reached down, unbuckling his belt with one hand while still holding you down. The clink of his belt hitting the floor made your mouth water. His jeans finally hit the floor, his boxers following close behind as his cock sprang free, tip wet, dripping with need. He stroked himself twice, spreading the slick over the head before lining himself up.

“You’re gonna take every inch,” Joel growled, voice trembling with restraint. “No squirming. Just let me stretch you out.”

And then he pushed in.

Slow and relentless. Your breath hitched, eyes flying open as your walls stretched open to fit him. He groaned low, head dropping to your shoulder as he shuddered, cock buried deep.

“Always so tight for me, baby,” he growled into your neck, hips still, letting you feel how full he made you.

Then he moved.

Hard and smooth, dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in, setting a rhythm that had your whole body rocking against the cushions. The slapping of wet skin echoed off the plaster walls—obscene, perfect.

Joel fucked you like he meant it, grip unyielding, his mouth whispering pure filth in your ear.

“Good girl. Takin’ it all so well…”

“You feel that, baby? How deep I am?”

“This pussy—fuck—is mine. Do you hear me?”

And with every thrust, every word, you felt your second orgasm building up. Hotter. Messier. And Joel knew. Of course he knew. His hand slid between both of you, finding your clit again, rubbing fast in perfect sync with his thrusts.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled. “Cream all over my fuckin’ cock.”

And then you did. You screamed. Shattered. Came so hard you swore you saw white, your cunt squeezing him tight, milking him, dragging a deep, guttural growl from his chest. He thrust twice more, then spilled inside you with a broken moan, cock pulsing thick ropes of heat into your still-clenching walls.

He stayed there for a moment, still buried deep, hips grinding through the aftershocks, both of you shaking and gasping, tangled in sweat.

“Fuck,” Joel panted. “Remind me to misbehave more often.”

The room was quiet now, save for the low crackle of the fire. Joel was still laying between your legs, his head back on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. His heartbeat slowed down to match yours, and when he finally looked at you, it wasn’t with lust—but with a softness only you ever got to see.

His expression held awe—a part of him still in disbelief that you chose him. That you, out of all the people in Jackson, chose an aging, gray-haired old man to love.

Joel reached up, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice laced with tenderness.

You nodded, smiling lazily, still drunk on him. “Yes, I’m okay.”

Joel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Then another on your cheek. Then one to your lips—slow, gentle, like he was trying to taste you all over again. But this time… it was with worship.

“Good,” he whispered. “’Cause we ain’t movin’ from this spot for a while.”

And you didn’t.

You chuckled at his playful antics, his fingers tracing shapes lazily on your hips, your bodies tangled together on the old, worn-out couch, warm from the fire, and from him.

[tojisteddy]

Sukuna who doesn’t like when you don’t follow his commands and listen to others.

After a long and annoying morning of telling his warriors what to do, killing off aristocrats and ordering servants around— the King of Curses expects to see you out in the garden playing with the stray kittens the King only keeps around for you or drawing in the paper hes given you, or better yet, napping. The sight of you enjoying yourself eases the annoyance, the stress of it all.

But when he doesn’t find you in the mere seconds it takes to scan the the yard with his four eyes, his voice booms across the open space, startling any servant near by. His voice is deep, dark, pronouncing every word slowly in an attempt to slow his irritation—

“Uraume, where. is. she?”

He could just sniff you out, he knows your smell so well now that it’s almost apart of him. Knows the smell of what lies inbetween your legs too, but he’d rather not use that. Not invade your space anymore than he usually does. He gracious like that.

His white haired servant is there in an instant, bowing his head, “[+] is at your room my lord.” They almost say it like a question, as if asking, ‘isn’t that where they’re supposed to be? A servant at their post?’

Well, no.

You do as your king orders you to do, and if that means you go and play instead of working until Sukuna calls for you, so fucking be it.

Sukuna finds you standing there in front of his chamber doors, arms behind your back, eyes low, waiting. like a good woman in waiting is supposed to do.

He calls to you like a sigh of relief, the God himself that never wavers, worried about his pet escaping him, something that would and never will happen, “Little human,”

Your eyes shoot up, your lashes flutter ever so beautifully, bowing your head, “Welcome back my lord.”

He doesn’t hesitate to tell you your wrong doings today, “You are meant to be in the yard before you feed me lunch, yes?”

You nod, “Yes my lord.”

“Then why is it you are here, watching the door when you know well I come to meet you there?”

You shift on your feet, eyes adverting his eyes while biting the inside of your lip. Adorable. You don’t want to get in trouble. His cute little thing. He lifts your chin with his finger, black nail at your throat. But you know it won’t hurt you.

Not his lovely pet.

Your big brown doe eyes stare up at him, he almost lets the matter go entirely— but you must understand your wrong to quickly fix it in the future.

“One of the servants told me I should be here, doing my job my lord. Not, -ehm- ‘wasting time.’ ” You mumble.

He raises a brow, he decides to test you, “So you listen to mere servants over your king?”

You’re sharp though, practically appalled that he’d suggested something like that, “I do not my lord! You are- you are-“

“I am, what?” 

“You are everything my lord.” You say it like it’s just. And he knows what you mean. He sees the way your gaze lingers longer and longer as the days pass, the way your heart beat sounds irregular when you’re near to him. How you long for his touch and approval, more than the ones who come to worship or pray to him. You see him as the moon, the stars and everything in between.

And oh, does Sukuna love it.

The pink haired god relishes in the feeling, his devilish grin appears on his face, he knows he has you. Always and forever and in the next life too.

“Then you will listen to your king and ‘waste time’ until I say otherwise, yes?” He scoffs. Whoever told you, you were wasting time was stupid. Humans need fun don’t they? His little one would get more than enough time.

You nod, replying those sweet words as you usually do when you listen ever so obediently. His loving pet.

“Good girl.” He caresses the apple of your cheek with his large hand, wishing to see the sunny glow on your brown skin. slipping it back in his arm back into his yukata.

“Come, let’s have lunch.”

And you quickly follow, always five feet behind. But Sukuna lifts you off your feet, holding you in one arm.

“M-my lord!” You gasp.

“You’ve worked long enough. Rest.”

most recent masterlist

[satellite-evans]

his person

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: you are lando’s person <3

Word count: 2.3k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

If you asked anyone — anyone who’d known Lando even half as well as the world thought it did — who his best friend was, the answer came easy, automatic, like muscle memory.

Max Fewtrell.

It was almost too obvious. They’d been inseparable since their karting days — the kind of friendship that was stitched together with inside jokes, shared playlists, matching scars from dumb teenage stunts, and years of standing side by side through wins and wipeouts. They were co-founders of Quadrant, partners in crime both on and off the track, the human embodiment of controlled chaos whenever a Twitch stream went live or an Instagram story popped up. If you ever bet on who knew Lando best — who could read him like a page out of his own life — your money was safe on Max.

But if you asked Lando — really asked him — his answer wouldn’t even take a breath.

“It’s her,” he’d say, soft but steady. Certain.

“It’s always her.”

You.

The girl who had known him before the podiums, before the fame, before the world chanted his name like a stadium-wide heartbeat. The one who saw through the swagger and the quick wit, the one who called him out when his ego got a little too comfortable, and who held him up when the weight of expectation became too much for one pair of shoulders to carry alone. His girlfriend, yes. But more than that. His person. His safe place. His best friend in every sense of the word.

And God, Lando could never seem to shut up about you.

It was an unspoken rule among his circle — one that started as eye-rolls and playful jabs but eventually softened into quiet acceptance. Your name had a habit of slipping into conversations without warning, as if his mind couldn't help but orbit around you even when you weren’t there. His engineers learned to expect it, Max would mock him with exaggerated groans, but none of it ever stopped him.

“Mate, we asked about tire strategy, not your girlfriend,” his race engineer would tease over the radio mid-practice, when his focus momentarily drifted.

And Lando, without missing a beat, would just laugh — the kind of laugh that sounded like pure ease, like home.

“Same thing, really,” he’d reply, grinning under the helmet. “She keeps me grounded. Technically part of the setup.”

On race weekends, it didn’t matter how chaotic the paddock got, how many fans called his name, or how tightly his schedule was packed. His eyes would always search the crowd — cutting through the noise, the flashing cameras, the blur of faces — until they landed on you. Like some unspoken radar tuned to a single frequency.

“There you are,” he’d mumble every single time, pulling you into his arms, cameras be damned. “Took me forever to find you.”

“You walked straight toward me, Lando,” you’d laugh against his chest, your voice the one sound that always, always managed to quiet his racing thoughts.

“Still felt too long,” he’d whisper, pressing his lips to your hair like that simple touch could steady the adrenaline still roaring through his veins.

You weren’t just the girl he loved. You were his favorite adventure. His co-op player. His partner in every messy, beautiful, unfiltered part of his life. Nights were spent tangled together on the couch, feet tucked under each other, controllers in hand, or phones abandoned on the table as you scrolled through old memes, trading soft jokes and lazy kisses. But the best part was always the silence. The ease of it. The kind of quiet that didn’t need filling, because being with you — just being — felt like the world had finally clicked into place.

And when the world outside got too loud — when the weight of expectation grew heavier than a leaden race suit, and headlines tried to script his story before he even had a chance to live it — it was always you he turned to.

“Do you think I’m doing enough?” he asked one night, voice quieter than the hum of the television, exhaustion settling deep into his bones after another long, hard-fought weekend. His head rested on your lap, and your fingers moved through his curls with slow, absent strokes — the kind that said I’m here, without needing the words.

“You’ve always been enough,” you answered, not even hesitating. “Wins don’t make you, Lando. You do.”

And something in his chest softened — like your words had reached places even his own self-belief couldn’t always touch. He looked up at you then, eyes warm, like he was trying to memorize the exact way you said it, the exact way it felt to be loved by you.

“See, this is why you’re my best friend.”

You smirked, playful but sincere. “Oh, I thought it was because I make better toast than Max.”

“That too,” he grinned, and it was the kind of grin that reached his eyes — the real one, the one that didn’t need cameras or podiums. “But mostly because you’re the only person who makes this whole crazy life make sense.”

And you always would.

Because even on the days when the world felt like it was spinning too fast, when the pressure of living under a microscope crept too close, you were there. Not with solutions or speeches — just you. Existing. Holding space for him the way only you could.

You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers slow and familiar. “You know,” you murmured, “I don’t think anyone will ever understand you the way I do.”

“I don’t want anyone else to,” Lando replied, quiet but sure. “They’d get it all wrong.”

There was a pause, but the comfortable kind — the kind that wrapped around you both like a blanket, no need for more words. His hand found yours, thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against your skin, the rhythm steady, grounding.

“You’re stuck with me, you know,” you teased, squeezing his fingers gently. “For life.”

His lips quirked, soft and lopsided. “Good,” he whispered. “That’s exactly the plan.”

Race weekends always had a way of making that feeling even stronger — like the noise and the speed and the stakes only sharpened the way Lando looked at you, like the world could be spinning at 300 kilometers an hour and still, his attention would only ever settle on you.

You stood by the garage, tucked slightly out of the way, half-hidden behind a stack of equipment cases as the paddock moved around you in its usual, barely controlled frenzy. Journalists darted between interviews, chasing headlines with mics stretched out like fishing rods. Cameras tracked every flicker of expression on every driver’s face, lenses hungry for a story in a single glance. Engineers, crew members, mechanics — they weaved through the maze of people like clockwork, hands full of telemetry sheets and radios, their minds a million miles away, deep in calculations and split-second decisions.

And then, there was Lando.

The second his eyes found you through the blur of it all — the sponsors, the fans, the pre-race nerves knotted beneath his skin — everything else seemed to fall away. His entire posture shifted, tension melting from his shoulders as that unmistakable, boyish grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. The smile that wasn’t for the cameras, or the sponsors, or the sea of people waiting for autographs — the one that was just for you.

Like clockwork, he jogged toward you, cutting through the paddock like gravity had decided to rewrite the rules, yanking him toward the only place he ever really wanted to be.

“There’s my good luck charm,” he greeted, voice bright but edged with exhaustion and adrenaline — the kind that no amount of coffee or sleep could fully shake before a race. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, the contact lingering longer than it probably should have given the dozens of eyes watching, but Lando had never cared much about timing when it came to you.

“You should probably be focusing on the race,” you teased, fingers finding the zipper of his suit, giving it the lightest of tugs, grounding him even as the rest of the world tried to pull him in a hundred different directions.

“I am,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, those warm eyes locking onto yours like they always did. “You’re the best part of it.”

And the way he said it — soft, steady, without even a hint of his usual playful sarcasm — left no room for superstition or charm. Just the truth, plain and simple.

You reached up, brushing your fingers along the edge of his balaclava, adjusting it slightly before your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, a familiar and quiet ritual between the two of you — like you were handing him the last piece of calm before the chaos.

“Go win,” you murmured, your voice low but sure. “I’ll be right here.”

“You better be,” he said, stepping backward, reluctant but smiling, his eyes still drinking you in like he could store the moment away for later. His race engineer’s voice crackled over the comms, pulling him back to reality, but even as he turned to go, he glanced back — once, twice — like the distance between you was the only thing that ever felt wrong.

And when he finally climbed into the car, helmet on, gloves tightened, visor down — the world might have narrowed to tire temperatures and corner speeds, but you were still there. A fixed point. The face he’d always find, whether he crossed the finish line first or not.

Later that night, long after the champagne had dried on his race suit and the headlines had already written their version of the day, you and Lando found yourselves right where you always seemed to end up — curled up on the hotel balcony, wrapped up in a blanket you’d stolen from the foot of the bed, legs tangled together like the world didn’t exist beyond that little pocket of quiet.

The city stretched out below you, lights blinking lazily in the distance, but neither of you paid them much attention. His hand rested on your knee, your feet propped comfortably in his lap, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle — like his body hadn’t quite figured out how to sit still, even if his mind finally had.

For a while, you both just sat there, letting the silence settle. It wasn’t awkward or heavy — just easy. The kind of quiet that only ever existed between two people who didn’t need words to fill the gaps.

But of course, Lando couldn’t resist breaking it.

“You know,” he said eventually, voice light but thoughtful, “it’s kinda ridiculous, isn’t it?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “What is?”

He let out a soft, amused huff, like the thought had been bouncing around his head for hours. “I spend all day surrounded by thousands of people — cameras, fans, the whole circus — but the second I step out of the car, the only face I ever want to find is yours. Like some lovesick golden retriever.”

You snorted, nudging him with your elbow. “You? A golden retriever? Please. More like a raccoon hyped up on energy drinks.”

He laughed, head tipping back slightly, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair, but still. You’re basically my human GPS at this point. Doesn’t matter how big the crowd is, somehow I always spot you first.”

You tilted your head, playful but sincere. “Maybe I’ve just trained you well.”

“Oh, definitely. Pavlov would be proud.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess that makes two of us, though. I could be anywhere — grandstands, the grid, the middle of a fan mob — and my brain’s only ever tuned into you.”

He grinned at that, the kind of grin that was all soft cheeks and crinkled eyes, and for a second the teasing dropped away, leaving only something honest and quiet between you.

“God, look at us,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his. “Disgustingly sappy.”

“Max would be physically ill if he heard this conversation.”

“Max would disown me,” Lando agreed, lips quirking. “But he already knows I’m screwed when it comes to you. No point in pretending.”

You stretched your legs out, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You’ve been screwed since the moment I stole your fries that one time, haven’t you?”

He chuckled, shaking his head like the memory was still fresh. “That was the moment. I knew I was done for. Anyone who can steal the last fry and not feel guilty? Dangerous.”

You grinned, leaning your head back against his shoulder, your voice soft but full of playful affection. “And you let me do it anyway.”

“Let you?” he scoffed. “I offered. You just didn’t hear me over the sound of your victory.”

You both sat there for a second, wrapped up in that perfect kind of comfort that came from knowing — truly knowing — you belonged exactly where you were.

Then, without looking away from the view, you murmured, “You’re my person, you know.”

He glanced down at you, his hand finding yours under the blanket, fingers lacing through yours with a quiet certainty. “You’re mine too. Always have been.”

You turned your head, catching the soft, lopsided smile on his face — the one that always gave him away no matter how hard he tried to act cool. “I hope you know I’m keeping that in writing. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice lower, softer now. “Because I wouldn’t know how to be me without you.”

You leaned into him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear, and let the moment stretch. No flashbulbs. No roaring engines. Just the two of you.

And it hit you all over again, the same simple truth that always seemed to sit quietly at the center of everything: You weren’t just his girlfriend. And he wasn’t just your boyfriend.

You were each other’s person. The constant in the chaos. The soft place to land. And the best part of every single day.

Always.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 2

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other? Ortho's part is platonic as always.

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tsumsitters (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 2 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

Azul's part is different from the one I wrote for the request. At the time the event had not yet reached the English server, if I'm not mistaken.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 3 (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 2 event, this takes place after the events of the first Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it's the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

You were with your Tsum in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm, and it wouldn't leave the window as if it was waiting for something. You ask if it wants to go somewhere, but it shakes its head and continues looking out the window.

A short time later you heard a loud bang at the front door as if something had been thrown at it, and your Tsum finally leaves the window and hops towards the door. Even before you open the door, you can hear Ace laughing and Deuce complaining.

When you open it, you find Deuce struggling to contain his Tsum who is trying to break free from his arms.

“Sorry (Y/N).” Deuce apologizes “I can't contain this guy. It started running... or hopping, like crazy when it realized we were going to pass by here.”

Your Tsum makes that cute tsum noise to get the attention of Deuce and his tsum. The two look down and their eyes light up as they see your Tsum. Deuce’s tsum breaks free from Deuce's arms and lands right next to your Tsum. And the two tsums begin to rub their little faces and noses against each other. Deuce blushes automatically.

Ace, who watched the whole scene, stopped laughing and was now looking at the tsums with a sulky face. “Oi? What's up now with this guy?” he questions.

“I-I-I don't know.” It's the only thing Deuce can say in response.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ace continues. “Your Tsum came back? Why? Our housewarden's didn't. Neither did Cater's.”

You say you don't know.

“Maybe your tsum is dragged into everyone's messes too.” Deuce says, smiling. “Not even it has a break with us, hum?”

Your Tsum headbutts Deuce's Tsum to get its attention, taps one of its little hands on the ground 5 times and Deuce's Tsum realizes the urgency of something. The two tsums start hopping towards the gate.

“OI! WHERE ARE YOU GOING NOW?” Deuce shouted.

The three of you run after the Tsums, but they reach the Hall of Mirrors first and go through the mirror to Heartslabyul.

“Well, on the one hand they saved us work.” Ace says.

“Yes, but they are on the loose!” Deuce replies.

You go through the mirror, run a little further and stop abruptly when you come across Riddle and Trey. Your tsums were close to their feet and were still very close to each other.

“See? They arrived on time.” Trey says. “They must have just had a little mishap with the tsums. Right?”

Ace and Deuce confirm. Riddle welcomes you and invites you to the Unbirthday Party that will be happening soon. He also tells Ace and Deuce to go do their party preparation duties. After he and Trey leave, Deuce realizes what happened.

“I get it now. Your tsum was telling mine the time, and warning it that we were going to be late.”

“Damn, even your Tsum needs two Tsumsitters.” Ace laughs. And Deuce-tsum hits him.

When it was preparing to hit him a second time, your Tsum got in the way and started rubbing its face against Deuce-tsum’s, calming it down.

“See my point?” Ace adds, and this time it's your Tsum that hits him.

You were walking through the school hallways, with your Tsum in your arms, when you crossed paths with Floyd. He automatically smiled when he saw your Tsum.

You ask each other what the other is doing there and Floyd tells you that he was playing a board game with Azul and his Tsum. He says that he left them playing with each other in the classroom. You feel your Tsum move excitedly in your arms.

After saying goodbye to each other you go to the classroom where Floyd said they were. You knock on the door and pop your head inside. You see both Azul and his Tsum immersed in the game, but not enough to not notice your presence.

“Oh, good afternoon (Y/N).” Azul greets you with a smile. His Tsum quickly looks towards the door when it hears him say your name. “Please come in.” You do so. “Is there anything you need or-” He sees your Tsum and widens his eyes with a sparkle in them.

Azul-tsum makes that happy tsum sound, jumps to the floor, stops for a second, jumps back onto the table to make its move on the board game, and then gets off the table again to hop happily towards you. Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands on the ground. And when Azul-tsum finally reaches yours the two begin to cuddle with each other.

Azul was focused on the game and only after making his play “Okay tsum, your tu-” did he look at the two tsums, and blushes slightly. He clears his throat loudly causing his tsum to look at him.

Azul’s tsum turns to yours and makes another cute sound, then the two of them hop back to the table. Azul's tsum returns to its place on the other side of the board, but yours jumps into Azul's arms to his surprise. He managed to catch it, then it looked at him and smiled with its eyes, making Azul stare at it in wonder.

“I'll concede that you are indeed charmingly cute.” He then whispers to himself: “As much as the person you resemble.”

You approach to sit with them and Azul suggests that you sit next to his tsum. The two Azuls exchange a suspicious look with each other.

They keep playing. When it's not Azul's turn, your tsum makes little sounds or something that makes him look at it. And when it's not Azul-tsum's turn, it seems to be undecided between paying attention to the board or looking at you so you can pet it. In the end, the two were practically tied, but Azul-tsum makes a play that makes it win the game. Both his tsum and your tsum celebrate, coming back to cuddle with each other.

“Ah, so that was your real move.” Azul said with a smirk. “You used (Y/N)'s tsum to distract me. Actually no, worse than that, you two are partners in crime.”

The two tsums looked smugly at Azul. But he didn't seem upset despite having lost. In fact, he seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the tsums. You ask what's wrong or if he's okay.

“Oh, don't worry, it's nothing. I was just thinking...” He looks back at the tsums who look back at him with an encouraging look. Both of them. “From what I've been able to observe, tsums have a lot in common with the person they resemble, especially their personality. After seeing how these two work together I was just wondering...” He looks at you and smiles confidently. “Wouldn't you happen to have the same interest as your tsum in being my partner too? Hum... partner in crime, I mean.”

You were walking through the Main street with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a little thing hopping towards you. It stops right in front of you, at your feet, and smiles at you with its eyes, making that cute tsum sound, as if it were greeting you politely. From the side where the dark grey strand is facing and from the calm demeanor, you can tell it's Jade's tsum.

Your tsum makes the cute tsum sound back to Jade-tsum and you let your tsum jump to the ground for the two to rub their faces against each other.

After that, you hear footsteps approaching you. Looking ahead you see Jade. His tsum looks at him and then jumps into your arms smiling at you with its cute little eyes. When Jade gets close to you he laughs.

“He he. You are quite cunning indeed, tsum. Or should I just say coward at this point?” He was still smiling, but with that look that was worryingly difficult to decode. Then he looks at you. “Forgive me for not greeting you first, (Y/N). I got... worried about the tsum when I lost sight of it. I'm genuinely relieved that you were the one to find it safe and sound.” He looks down at your tsum. “Aw, what a lovely sight, your sweet tsum is back.”

You feel Jade-tsum tense up in your arms, but it barely moves. Jade bends down and holds out his cupped hands for your tsum to jump into them. You feel Jade-tsum once again tense slightly, but without moving. Jade raises your tsum in front of his face. It smiles at him innocently.

“Undoubtedly adorable.” Jade says. “But you shouldn't just jump into anyone's hands like that.” He lowers his hands to chest height, holds the tsum with one hand while, with the other, he makes a claw-like movement as if he were going to imprison it. “It could be dangerous.” He looks at his own tsum in your arms, who still doesn't move.

“But it didn't just jump into anyone's hands.” You say. He looks at you meeting your eyes. “However you're right, it can be very dangerous. But you should have told that to YOUR tsum.”

Both Jade and his Tsum are surprised by what you said. And suddenly you tighten your hug around Jade-tsum as if you were Floyd squeezing someone. But in this case, you are squeezing the tsum with love and affection. It waves its little arms and legs as if it were asking for help, but not trying very hard to escape.

Jade laughs delightedly, and frees your tsum from his clutches, taking it to his chest just to pet it affectionately. He looks at that little angel face face that knew he wouldn't hurt you or your tsum and smiles.

“In fact, you are a danger on the loose.” He jokes. “Tell me, would the both of you like to accompany me and my little lookalike to Mostro Lounge? We came here for a stroll around campus because I thought it would be a nice bonding exercise. But I’m sure that something like sharing a smoothie, for example, could also be great for bonding.”

You look happy with the idea of going with them to Mostro Lounge. But in the meantime you realize that tsums don't have mouths. How could they share a drink?

“Oh, well, perhaps I wasn't referring to the tsums.” He smiles at you with that bold confidence.

Kalim, his tsum and Jamil took a magic carpet tour of campus. Kalim-tsum’s eyes were sparkling the whole time during it, but something must have piqued its interest because after that it disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were with your tsum in the Ramshackle Dorm lounge when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it to find... no one. Until you hear that happy tsum sound near your feet. You look down and see a Kalim-tsum smiling at you with its eyes.

As soon as you say hello, it wastes no time in jumping on your shoulder and brushing its face against your cheek. You hear another tsum sound behind you. You turn around and Kalim-tsum sees your tsum. Kalim-tsum makes another happy sound and jumps off your shoulder to hug your tsum. Or at least that's what it looked like despite its short arms.

If that tsum was there without Kalim, most likely he was looking for it. And consequently Jamil too. Therefore, you decide to take the two tsums in your arms and go find Kalim.

Just as you predicted, you found Kalim and Jamil together on Main Street. When Kalim sees you from afar, he happily waves his arms in the air to call you to join them.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you. “I'm so glad I found you! I really wanted you to meet-” He looks at the two little creatures you carry in your arms when you get close to him. “AH! You found it! You're amazing!”

Jamil sighs with relief. And then they both realize what, or rather, who, the other little creature is. Kalim's eyes shine and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“It can't be! There's one like you too! It's so cute! Aw, I want to hug it so much! Can I? Can I? Pretty pleeease~?”

If you’re more outgoing, your tsum will smile with its eyes at him. If you are more shy, your tsum will be too flattered and hide its face in your arms. Which will make Kalim find it even cuter.

“I know they may look like plushies,” Jamil says “but I don’t think you should treat them like one.”

“Don't worry, I won't hurt it.” Kalim says both to Jamil and to you.

“I'm also worried about the other way around. If that is even possible.”

“What? No way!” Kalim stretches out his arms welcomingly for your tsum to jump into them. And it does. He turns to Jamil. “You don't really think this adorable little thing would hurt anyone, do you?”

Jamil looks at your tsum, who smiles at him with its eyes and he blushes slightly to the point of having to look away. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“And I am a great judge of character.” Kalim completed confidently. He brings your tsum close to his face to see it better. “Oh, if you were bigger I could hug you for real.”

This gives your tsum an idea and suddenly it starts to grow, which takes everyone by surprise, until it stops at the size of a pillow. Kalim has no other way to hold it other than hugging it and that's what he does. He hugs it tight like it's the most adorable thing on earth and he never wants to let it go.

And apparently, Kalim's tsum wants the same treatment, but from you, so it also grows to the size of a pillow for you to hug it.

Jamil looks at you all slightly uncomfortably and can only say: “If you ever do that to each other, at least get a room first.”

It was already late in the afternoon. You were walking across campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard a "CUT!". You have heard that a few other times before, it was Vil's voice and he must have been filming something for the film club.

Your tsum moves in your arms as if it was also curious to see what he was doing. You follow the sound and walk until you reach the Main Street.

“Rehearsal is over.” You hear Vil say and you stop. “Now we must capture this scene before the sun sets. Focus!”

That sounded like your cue not to interrupt him. You weren't at a place where you could appear in the frame, so you just wait there, watching, just like your tsum. However, someone else was watching the scene as well, hidden in the bushes.

“Now the real fun begins.” Rook says, both to his tsum and to Epel, that he dragged it with him. “Let us watch Vil and the rest of the club shine!”

Rook's tsum hops eagerly and the two observe Vil, until something else catches the tsum's attention and it looks to the side. Rook notices this.

“You changed the target of your attention, monsieur tsum. What could have possible divert your gaze from Vil?” He follows the tsum's gaze and finds you, standing there watching Vil. “Bien sûr, there could only be one reason.” He sees your Tsum in your arms. “Oh, marvelous! Tricster's tsum is back! Even more beauty to behold.”

Everything goes smoothly until the end of the recordings. And it is only when Vil sees you and greets you that you approach him. His attention (and everyone's actually) goes to your tsum.

“I see you've also been assigned as a tsumsitter.” Vil says. “I heard it had shown up the first time this happened, but I ended up not having the pleasure of meeting it. I'm glad I got this chance.” He smiles at your tsum who looks at him in wonder. “One also appeared in Pomefiore. A Rook lookalike.”

You feel your tsum spasm in your arms, and then you hear something jumping towards you. You turn around and a wild Rook-tsum appears and greets you with that happy tsum sound.

Your tsum jumps to the ground and lets Rook-tsum approach it first. It jumps to get closer to your tsum but, to everyone's surprise, your tsum dodges and runs away.

You panic a little, your tsum had never done that until now, and Rook-tsum goes jumping after your tsum, even though it has already lost sight of it. You are about to start running to look for them when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are startled by Rook's sudden appearance.

“Worry not, trickster. I have been following monsieur tsum and it has been an enriching experience. You could accompany me and we can observe them together. There is no place they can go that I won't find them.” he winks.

You go with Rook following your tsums. You notice that every now and then your tsum stops as if provoking Rook-tsum and when it is about to catch your tsum, it dodges again and continues running away.

“How fascinating.” Rook laughs “Tell me, doesn't it look like they're playing with each other?”

You continue following the tsums to the botanical garden, already in the early evening. Where they finally stop. Or rather, where your tsum finally lets itself be caught, in the subtropical zone. You see Rook-tsum clinging to your tsum and making a movement with its head as if were kissing your tsum passionately.

“I wonder...” Rook says “If this is all some kind of mating ritual for the tsums.” he laughs seeing your reaction. “What's wrong, trickster? That look is not from someone who dislikes the idea~ Is there anything your heart would like to share? Because any question you have about mine can be answered by looking at monsieur tsum.”

You were walking through campus with your Tsum in your arms when you heard something above you.

“PREFECT!” You hear Ortho's voice shout from somewhere. “LOOK OUT!”

You see an unidentified flying object coming towards you at high speed. Your instinct is to cower and duck. But the object stopped before it hit you and landed on the ground in front of you. You look and see an Ortho-tsum. Ortho approaches you.

“He he he. Did we scare you? Sorry. Are you OK?” He asks. You answer that you are. “I’m glad. We just wanted to surprise you. Have you already heard of these little creatures called tsums, (Y/N)?”

You stand up, revealing your tsum that had been hidden in your arms when you ducked. Both Ortho and his tsum are happy to see your tsum.

“OH! One like you also appeared! So cool!”

Ortho-tsum uses its new device to fly towards your tsum, who got surprised by it. Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and gestures for Ortho-tsum to come closer to it.

Ortho-tsum lands near your tsum again and it starts walking around ortho-tsum as if it is examining the new device suspiciously. The tsum make sounds as if they were chatting.

“I don't know what they're saying...” Ortho laughs. “But from the tone and what they're doing, it seems like your tsum is worried about my tsum's new antigravity device. The audio of the noises I'm capturing sounds similar to a scene from a movie I have stored in my memory, where an older sister is saying things like 'Where did you get that?', ‘Are you sure it's safe?’, ‘You could get hurt.’ Ha ha ha.”

After this conversation between the tsums, Ortho's tsum flies for a second, lands again and makes an inviting sound for your tsum. It jumps on Ortho-tsum's back and the two slowly and carefully take flight.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum. Will you play with us too (Y/N)? Pretty Please?”

If you feel safe with Ortho, he will take you flying on his back. If you're scared he'll say: “It's okay, I understand. We can play close to the ground. We don't need to go up to the clouds to have fun together."

After walking around campus you decided to stop to rest on one of the benches in the Courtyard. You sit down and your tsum stays on your lap. A few seconds later, when you thought you could rest a little, something falls into your lap and on top of your tsum, startling you both.

After enjoying your reactions, the new tsum jumps next to you on the bench and turns to face you. It's a Lilia's tsum.

“Yay! Your tsum is back!” A voice behind you startles you and your tsum again, making it jump from your lap to Lilia-tsum's side.

Your tsum starts making sounds like it's complaining, but Lilia-tsum starts rubbing its face against your tsum to calm it down.

“Khee hee hee. Sorry.” Lilia says upside down, floating next to you. “You were trying to rest, weren't you?” He gestured for the tsums to move away so he could sit next to you.

They jump into your lap, where they get so close that it looks more like they're snuggling in a nest.

“I know it may not seem like it, but my tsum was getting tired too. But neither it nor I could resist surprising you and your tsum. Isn't it as charming and cute as me?”

You look at the tsums in your lap who seemed to be cuddled up sleeping. You joke that Tsum can be cuter.

“Ow, you're just saying that because of the plush shape it has. But looking at you and your tsum, I understand what you mean. Your tsum is also cuter than you.” He sees you pout slightly, and smiles mischievously. “Khee hee hee. Looks like someone didn't like being hit with their own spell.”

Lilia-tsum wakes up from its short nap and jumps to the ground, waking up your tsum as well. Lilia-tsum makes an inviting happy sound to your tsum, who also jumps off your lap to join it.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum now.”

You and Lilia follow your tsums to see what they will do. They prank a student. He was distracted reading a magazine when Lilia-tsum makes a sound that catches his attention. He looks, sees Lilia's tsum, rubs his eyes, looks again, and sees Lilia's and yours tsums. He rubs his eyes again, looks again and only sees your tsum. He gets up startled, looks the other way, looks back to where the tsum were and there is nothing there anymore. You hear him walking away wondering if he's going crazy or hallucinating.

You and Lilia laugh. And then Lilia has another idea for a prank.

The four of you go to the library and find two students chatting at a table. One of them is telling the other that he had seen Lilia transform into a small, round creature in front of him. The other wondered if it was some shapeshifting spell or some prank of Lilia's. Lilia-tsum hopped over to them.

“SEE?! HERE! This was the creature I saw Lilia transform into!”

You appear and greet the students. Lilia-tsum jumps into your arms in front of them and Lilia casts a light spell that temporarily blinds them, long enough for your tsum to take your place. When the students look again, they find two tsums.

“AHH! It's not a spell, it's some curse!” the other student says. “If any of them touch us, we become one of them too!”

Your two tsums walk slowly but menacingly towards them, and the students run away. Lilia bursts out laughing.

“This must have been the best one yet. Don't you also think it's funny when two big boys run away in fear from a cute little thing?”

The two tsums return to you. Lilia-tsum looks tired.

“We don't have that much stamina at this age, do we?” Lilia says smiling. He holds out his arms for his tsum to jump into them, but it doesn't. “Um? You don't want me to carry you?”

Lilia-tsum walks up to your tsum and cuddles with it.

“Oho, I see. In that case...” Lilia takes his blazer off his shoulders and ties the ends together as if making a hammock. “Okay you little lovebirds, here's a nest for you.” The two tsums jump in and snuggle together. “In fact, there is one thing cuter than our separate tsums: them together.” He looks at you, but the cute smile turns into a mischievous one when he sees your face. “What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't think they would make a pretty couple. That would break my heart.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[thepencilnerd]

sticky-notes and leftovers

thank you to everyone who voted in my last poll! ask and ye shall receive 🫶

summary: a glimpse into your daily notions with robby after moving in, a.k.a., literally just fluff to escape the reality that s1 finale is tomorrow

the first note appeared three days after you officially moved in.

It was stuck to the cabinet above the coffee maker, slightly crooked. Ballpoint blue. Classic. Robby’s handwriting—surprisingly neat for a doctor, dad-esque, deeply serious in a way that made you laugh.

Coffee’s ready. Don’t forget to eat something.

Below that, in smaller script:

p.s. you’re not as subtle about skipping meals as you think.

You’d rolled your eyes. Smiled. Made a mental note to write back. The next morning, you left one stuck to the fridge:

Thank you for the coffee. I'm still mad you beat me to it. Again.

And just like that, it began.

It wasn’t intentional, at first. The notes were mostly functional—reminders about groceries, schedules, patients one of you needed to follow up on. But they bled into softer territory quickly. Encouragement. Sarcasm. A shared language built in 3x3 squares of neon.

Good luck today. You're a miracle in scrubs. (check the leftover lasagna before you thank me. It’s kind of a war zone in there) I love when you sing along to the radio in the shower. I wasn’t singing. The shower was. Sure

By month two, there was an entire corner of the fridge reserved for them, layered like scales, curling at the edges.

Some mornings, he’d stumble out of bed to find his thermos with a note taped to the lid:

Be nicer to Whitaker. He’s trying.

Other nights, Robby would get home late and find one on his pillow:

Welcome home. You smell like hospital. I’m still glad you’re here. I love you.

He’d stand there for a moment, reading the words, the weight of the day falling off his shoulders. You’d be asleep by then, curled up on your side, hair slightly mussed from the pillow, the soft rise and fall of your breath the only sound in the room.

He’d lean down, brushing a kiss to your temple, careful not to wake you—but still, you’d smile, faint and sleepy, like your body knew he was near even before your mind did.

Sometimes, he’d whisper something only the walls could hear—missed you today or you’re everything—then set his phone to silent, take a shower, and crawl in beside you, the note tucked into his journal.

The ritual became a comfort. A constant. Something grounding when the days were long and the shifts were brutal. When you barely saw each other except in passing, there were always the notes.

Until the day you had the worst shift of the year.

It had been back-to-back traumas. A code blue that didn’t end well. A young patient who reminded you too much of someone you used to know. You didn’t cry, not in the moment. Not until you got home, peeled off your coat, and saw the Post-It on the inside of the fridge:

Soup’s in the fridge. Eat first. Then fall apart if you need to. I’ll be home before midnight – M.

You’d pressed your thumb over his name like it could hold you together. Ate the soup. Didn’t fall apart.

Not until you saw the follow-up note stuck to your pillow:

You don’t have to be strong for me. Just be.

You left your reply in the bathroom mirror, scribbled while brushing your teeth:

I love you. (also, we’re out of toothpaste)

He never brought it up. Just replaced the toothpaste. Kissed your forehead like it was all part of the same conversation.

One morning, months later, Langdon accidentally opened your lunch container in the fridge and found a note stuck inside:

Remember to eat. (yes, I know you will forget) This is me pretending to be surprised ~OoO~

Langdon had stared at it. Then took a picture. Then texted Dana, who texted McKay, who dragged Collins into it.

By the time your shift ended, the entire department was in on it.

You returned from rounds to find a Post-It stuck to your locker:

If he doesn’t marry you, I will. - Dana

Robby’s handwriting appeared below in green ink:

We’re taking applications for flower girls - Robby

Collins passed you in the hallway and grinned. “Power couple energy.”

McKay gave you a thumbs-up and said nothing. Langdon winked. Mel smiled shyly. 

You shook your head, embarrassed but smiling. Your heart full.

You never asked how they knew.

You didn’t need to.

It was a Wednesday night when Robby found you standing in front of the fridge, rereading the corner where you kept them. The notes were a riot of color—blue, yellow, green, pink—some faded, some brand new.

He stepped behind you, sliding his arms around your waist. Rested his chin on your shoulder.

"You keeping all of them?"

You nodded. "Even the one where you said the leftover stir fry was cursed."

"It was cursed."

You leaned back into him. "I like them. All of them."

"Even the stick figure one where I drew you doing a laparotomy with laser eyes?"

You laughed. "Especially that one."

He was quiet a moment longer. Then whispered, "I’ll keep writing them. For as long as you’ll let me."

You turned in his arms and kissed him, soft and slow.

"That better be a promise, Robinavitch."

"Sticky note vow," he whispered.

And when you pulled back, he was already reaching for the notepad.

[mercvry-glow]

love me hard love me soft

parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader

summary. jack abbot isn't a soft man, but he'll learn for you.

warnings. age gap (jack mid/late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), typically pitt medical drama stuff, hospital setting, work place kind of relationship, they're pining but not kissing, other pitt characters, santos is mouthy, no use of (y/n), but let me know if there's more!

notes. the jack abbot grind is real and alive within me, I need so many more fics with him to come out. not much to say here, but since my requests are open I will mention I do try to keep my readers as nondescript as possible so every one can feel welcome here! please enjoy and any and all feedback is welcome, ask box is open as always!

wc. 1600+

It was no secret to the PTMC staff that Jack Abbot wasn’t a soft man. Rough around the edges and tough as nails, the ex army medic was as stoic as they come. He had been at the pitt for a number of years before you came around, working day by day to provide the best care he possibly could for the people that came to the ER. 

It was a hard job, physically and mentally taxing on the body. Everybody kenw that, it was basically in the job description—but you made it easier on him, and everybody saw. 

You, the nurse who had come in as a temp, were the saving grace of quite a few people in the pitt. 

Jack included. 

Sure, he was a hardass but he was genuine and kind if not a bit guarded. 

“You could take it easier on some of the interns ya know,” you said, taking a seat next to Jack as he finished charting a few things on one of the computers at the nurses station. 

He left a small scoff, not turning to look at you “the job isn’t easy, they can go to Robby if they want someone nicer.” 

You gave him a knowing look, “You’re plenty nice, Jack. They just want to learn from you, being more approachable is what makes you a good teacher.” 

Tough love was more Jack’s style, patience was yours. 

“Jesus, woman. You come over here to lecture me or something? I’m sure someone needs their temperature checked.” That remark earned him a slap on the arm and an indignant scoff from you. 

“Oh don’t be an asshole Jack! I’m just saying you’d go a lot farther with some of the younger staff if you could lighten up.” Sitting forward in your rolley chair you scooched closure to the older man, clearly invading his personal space as the two of you continued the conversation in a small moment of peace. 

Jack leaned back in his chair just slightly, eyeing the way your knees bumped against his. You were always doing that—getting in close. Somehow you weren’t scared of what might be underneath all that steel-plated attitude.

He tilted his head toward you. “You know I don’t do well with ‘lightening up.’ That’s your department, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you warned, trying not to smile.

He smirked—just a twitch of the lips, but enough to count. “Then stop smiling every time I do.”

“Touché.”

There was a beat of quiet between you, broken only by the distant rattle of a gurney being rolled past and the soft clack of a keyboard a few feet away. It was almost peaceful. Almost.

“You really think I’m too hard on them?” he asked, voice lower this time—quieter, more honest.

You blinked. He rarely opened the door like that, even after years of working together, of being together. 

“I think you’ve seen a lot of bad, Jack,” you replied, nudging his foot with yours under the desk. “And I think you want to make sure they’re ready for it. That’s not wrong. But… compassion doesn’t make you weak. And letting them in, letting me in, more doesn’t make you soft.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared at the monitor, lips pressed tight.

Finally, he said, “You made the Pitt better when you walked in here, you know that?”

You looked at him, surprised.

“That’s not me being soft,” he added gruffly. “That’s just the damn truth.”

You smiled again, leaning back with a little satisfied hum. “See? You can say nice things.”

He groaned and went back to typing. “Don’t get used to it.”

On the otherside of the pitt, a few of the interns (namely Whitaker and Santos) stood watching the interaction. 

They couldn’t understand what was different about you, why Dr. Abbot let you get so close or why it even mattered to them. 

“Is he actually smiling?” Whitaker whispered, brows furrowed like he was witnessing some kind of natural phenomenon.

Santos squinted, arms crossed over her black scrubs. “I think that was technically a smirk. But yeah. I’ve never seen him do that before. Not even when a guy walked in here with a screwdriver in his shoulder.”

Whitaker huffed. “What is it about her? Like… we’ve been here for weeks and the guy barely grunts at us outside of traumas.”

“She called him an asshole once,” Santos said, deadpan. “To his face.”

“That’s what I mean! Anyone else’d be doing triage on themselves. But her? He likes her.”

They both watched as you leaned in and nudged Jack’s arm again, laughing softly at something he said. The kind of sound you don’t really expect to hear in an ER.

Whitaker shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t try too hard,” Santos mused. “She just… gets it. The pace, the patients. Him.”

Whitaker rolled his eyes. “You think it’s cute, don’t you?”

Santos shrugged, hiding a grin. “Kinda. But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll say you’re lying.”

The brief quiet between didn’t last long—peace rarely did in the Pitt.

“Trauma incoming!” someone called from the double doors, and instantly, the mood shifted. The air snapped to attention. Everyone shot to their feet at the same time, chairs rolling and shuffles heard in unison.

“Room 3,” Dana’s voice rang out. “Ped versus auto, ETA three minutes. Bystander started compressions.”

You and Jack were already moving, grabbing gloves and snapping them on. He tossed you a look, his version of “ready?”—and you gave a nod back, adrenaline kicking into gear.

Inside the trauma bay, the gurney rolled in hard and fast. Blood, pressure alarms, panicked shouts. A young teen, unresponsive, with a cracked helmet and the visible deep red staining the right side of his jeans said it all.

Jack took command like always. “Let’s go! O2 on, wide bore IVs—Kid, stay with me.”

You moved into position while the interns filtered in along the wall, wide-eyed and stiff. Santos lingered a bit too close, trying to be helpful but also trying to see everything at once as per usual.

“Pressure’s dropping,” you called out, hand on the young man’s wrist. “Palpable at 70.”

Jack was already cutting through fabric, assessing the damage. “Get that line in now. If he’s got internal bleeding—”

Santos blurted, “Damn, this is intense. No wonder she’s always stuck to you like glue.”

You froze for a split second—so did Dana and everybody in the room—and Jack’s head snapped up like a missile had locked on.

“What did you just say?” His voice cut through the chaos like a ten blade.

Santos blinked, caught completely off guard. “Uh—I didn’t mean—”

“This is a trauma room, not a gossip circle,” Jack barked. “If you’re not focused on the patient, you can get the hell out.”

Silence fell for just a second before another doctore pushed past Santos to jump in on the line.

“Intern out,” Dana said firmly, giving Santos a nudge toward the door without even looking at her.

You didn’t have time to react, not really—not when a kid’s life was in your hands—but you felt Jack’s presence tighten beside you. All steel again. The warmth from earlier was gone. Not for you—but for everyone else.

And Santos would probably think twice before running her mouth in the middle of a trauma again.

The rest of the team worked in a tight rhythm, the energy electric and focused. Fluids in. Monitors up. The suction buzzed while Robby barked vitals. You stayed glued to the patient’s side, hands steady, voice low and soothing despite the pressure.

After what felt like forever but was only about ten minutes, the kid finally stabilized. Pressure creeping up. Oxygenation improved. No sign of a brain bleed on the portable.

It was a win, another save. 

“Get him up to CT,” Jack instructed, peeling off bloodied gloves. “Page ortho for that femur. Kid’s gonna have a hell of a time if he wants to bike again,”

As the gurney rolled out, the noise faded into the hallway. The tension broke. Air was breathable again.

Jack leaned against the wall as people filed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. You stepped up beside him, just outside the room, letting the buzz of the hospital fill the gap.

“You alright?” you asked softly.

He gave a low grunt. “Would be better if I didn’t have interns running their mouths in the middle of a code.”

“She was probably just nervous,” you said gently, though you couldn’t begin to excuse Santos’s timing. “And maybe a little dumb.”

Jack snorted.

You nudged your elbow into his. “Things look different for everyone.”

His brow quirked, eyes flicking toward you. “That’s what that was?”

You smiled, giving a little shrug. “I mean… could be worse, right?” 

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t push you away, which for him might as well have been affection after what had just happened.

“I’ll talk to Santos,” you added. “She’s got so much potential. Just needs to learn when to shut up.”

“I’ll make Robby talk to her too,” Jack said quietly, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “But not today. She already got lucky once.”

You leaned your shoulder against the wall, mirroring his posture.

“Y’know, for what it’s worth…” you said, glancing sideways at him, “You were kind of amazing in there, as always.”

Jack looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in those tired hazel eyes.

“Don’t start,” he warned lightly. “You’re already ruining my image.”

You smiled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Too late.”

mercvry-glow 2025

[teamred]

any other way

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | 1.8k

SUMMARY | in which your good friend, wade, ditches your planned movie night, but his roommate offers to watch one with you instead. however, logan ends up falling asleep on your shoulder.

WARNINGS | drinking, kissing, swearing, gets a little steamy/handsy

RATING | teen+

NOTES | it's funny... i've been a big x-men fan for a while, but i never really fell for logan until d&w. if this pops off, maybe i'll write more for him!!!

///

“Wade, hurry up and let me in! A girl can only hold freshly popped popcorn for so—oh.” 

Instead of your dear, annoying friend, it’s his gorgeous, rugged roommate who answers the apartment door instead. Your eyes sweep over him, taking a liking to how his brown plaid button-up drapes over his white tank top. His clothing choices compliment his sturdy frame and strong pecs. His facial hair is perfectly groomed and—  

And it doesn’t help that you have just the teeniest, tiniest crush on him. 

“Logan, hey!” you exclaim, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were going to be here for movie night too.” 

“Wade’s not here, bub,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and a sympathetic half-smile.

“What?! That little shit said he’d be free tonight…”  You sigh, shaking your head. “Well, it’s all good. I’ll just—” 

“Did you want to watch a movie with me instead?” Logan offers. You think you hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Since you came out all this way?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re—”

“Darlin’,” he interrupts with a soft chuckle. Your heart stumbles at the sound. “I have never been more free on a Saturday night. You’re welcome to join me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Now your heart is melting over his kindness. You smile warmly. “I always feel comfortable around you, Logan.” 

He returns the smile and gestures for you to come in, offering to take the popcorn and if you want anything as you remove your shoes.

“I got it, but thank you. A beer would be good,” you reply, settling in on one end of the couch in the living room. You glance around curiously. “Is Blind Al not home either?” 

“Yeah,” Logan calls from the nearby kitchen, bending towards the open fridge to grab the drinks. “She’s getting, in her own words, ‘turned up’ at the casino tonight.”

You snicker as you browse through streaming services to pick a movie for tonight. Logan returns with a beer in each hand and you’re surprised when he takes the middle seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his scent and it is intoxicating–a blend of woody notes, perhaps leather and pine. 

“So what’s the movie for tonight?” Logan asks, taking a sip from his bottle. 

“Well, be honest with me here: Wade promised that we could watch this new movie that just released a few days ago, but it’s a romantic movie, so—” 

“Of course,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “That’s his favourite genre.” 

You deflate a little. “Okay, with that tone, I’m assuming I will have to change the movie choice.” 

“No! Don’t change it because of me,” Logan quickly interjects. “We can watch whatever you want. I’m genuinely content to just sit here and do something other than watching reruns I’ve seen a million times before.” 

You study him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” he reassures you, nodding and flashing another smile. You will yourself to calm your racing heart and focus on finding the movie. Once you select it, you press play and relax into the couch cushions. 

Out of nowhere, Logan places his arm around you, his hand slightly hovering above your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected move, unsure why he’s doing it. But then he quickly pulls back, shuffling a bit away from you.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “It’s out of habit when I watch stuff.”

“You can leave your arm there,” you blurt out. You don’t even register the words coming out of your mouth. Where was this boldness coming from? 

He quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you nod fervently, rushing to grab your beer to steady your nerves. Taking a long sip, you try to force your body to relax again. 

The first few minutes of the movie starts quite slow, but your eyes are glued to the screen to ensure you don’t miss the exposition. Just as you reach for the popcorn, so does Logan, and the back of your hands brush against each other. 

“Sorry,” you both mumble, glancing at each other in awkwardness and something hanging in the air. He juts his chin out with a subtle smirk, gesturing you to go first. You grab a handful, and as he follows suit, his fingers graze against yours, causing you to shiver. 

The air in the room is electric, and you wonder if the tension is just in your head or if Logan feels it too. The movie continues, but your thoughts are consumed by the warmth of his body so close to yours and the possibility of what might happen next. 

Later into the movie, you freeze as you feel Logan leaning in closer. You turn your head, ready for what might happen–

But then, he goes completely lax, slouching into your shoulder and resting his head in a comfortable position. 

“I should’ve chosen a different movie…” you think, shaking your head. 

It’s hard to focus on the movie with this gorgeous being asleep on your shoulder (and the movie doesn’t seem to be that great anyway). Towards the end of the movie, your attention drifts completely and you indulge in how Logan sleeps. His soft snoring. The gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder as he dreams. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

Suddenly, Logan stirs and lifts his head, almost snorting up air cutely. He blinks groggily. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Did I sleep through the movie?” 

You hesitate, hung up on the fact that he called you gorgeous. Your cheeks prickle as you search for the right words to say.

“Yeah, you did,” you whisper with a small smile. “But it’s fine. It wasn’t that great anyway.” 

“Mm, figures,” he mumbles. “Did you wanna watch another movie or—” 

As he straightens up, you instinctively lean towards him, closing the gap between you two. Your noses practically touch.

“Or did you wanna do…” Logan’s voice is low and gravelly. You hold your breath and hold his gaze. “...something else?” 

You barely nod, and he drags you into a searing kiss. His hands cup your cheek and neck with urgency. Soon enough, his tongue dips into your mouth, sending a jolt to your core. 

Logan cradles your body and carefully positions you lower onto the couch. The weight of his body pressed up against you sends you into overdrive. His hands dive underneath your shirt, exploring your soft skin. The pressure of his body against yours leaves you breathless. Not only the pressure of his body, but also his—

“Winner winner, chicken dinner!” 

Wade’s booming voice cuts through the front door like a tornado, forcing both of you to scramble away faster than opposing magnets. However, it’s too late; Wade has witnessed everything. 

“Oh, my God, Blind Al, my plan worked! It fucking worked!” Wade squeals, jumping up and down. 

“Oh, no. Are they butt-ass naked on the couch? Times like these, I’m grateful to be blind.” 

“No, they’re thankfully fully clothed. But they were just dry humping the shit out of each other though.” 

“You ditched movie night on purpose, you asshole!” you screech. 

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” Wade retorts with a wink. “You and Wolvie always have had palpable sexual tension every time you were in a room together. Hell, even Laura agreed it’d be a good idea to set you two up.” 

Logan and you exchange a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth in Wade's words. 

“Blind Al and I will just be basking in our casino winnings with a few drinks and then we’ll be out of your hair in a few. And then you two can carry on and fuck each other freely on the couch.” 

“But keep it down, please,” Blind Al adds with a hint of desperation.

“I probably should get going now,” you chime in, eager to avoid the awkwardness. Logan quickly follows behind, walking you to the front door. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says in sincerity.

You wave him off. “You never have to apologize for them. They’re like family; I’m used to them.” 

“I didn’t know where the night was heading, but—” He turns around to check over his shoulder, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “—I’m glad Wade set us up.” 

“Heard that!” Wade calls out from inside the apartment. 

“Damn it,” Logan mutters, making you giggle. “Anyways, would you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night?” 

You beam as you reply, “I’d love that.” 

“Great, I’ll call you later.” 

Logan steps outside of the apartment and closes the door behind him, pulling you in by your waist for another kiss. Innocent at first, but then he presses you up against the wall and his hands grips at your waist, extracting a few moans from you.

“Either get back inside or just go home with her rather than wall-fucking her outside of the apartment!” Wade’s muffled voice echoes through the thin walls. 

Logan retreats slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. He keeps his voice low. “And not trying to put pressure on our date tomorrow, but if—”

“If things get heated, let’s go back to my place,” you finish his thought with a soft promise. 

His eyes light up with a relieved smile. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

You smile into one last kiss, the world fading away as you savor the sensation of Logan’s mouth on yours.

Until Wade pops his head out through the door like a whack-a-mole you’re dying to hit. “Okay, seriously. I will offer you my bedroom, if you’re really that horny, you guys.” He calls out your name. “Also, did you know he can smell how horny you are?” 

“I—what?” you stammer, blinking in confusion.

“Wade, shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps with gritted teeth. He faces you again with a gentle smile. “Have a good night, gorgeous. I’ll call you as soon as you get back home.” 

Logan’s a man of his word, almost calling immediately as you stepped foot in your apartment (with Wade providing unnecessary commentary in the background, as always). 

Later, as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but admit how grateful you were for Wade’s set-up. If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would’ve made a move; it would’ve progressed at a glacial pace. 

Lying in bed and looking up at your bedroom ceiling, you think to yourself how tonight truly was perfect, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow’s date might bring. 

ENDING NOTES | thank you so much for reading and giving some love! part two can be read here!

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

THE PRANK THAT BACKFIRED (sort of?)

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: reader and drew decide to play a prank on the obx cast for her youtube channel. they do the “asking to have another girl over” prank, which results in a very angry obx cast who are out to get drew😅

based on this ask !! i hope this is what you asked for @xoxosblogsblog !! i had so much fun writing this and it was ADORABLE, i hope you like it :)) <3

WARNINGS: pure tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst (not really), like one (?) curse word, insinuation of cheating (the prank), chase & rudy threaten to “throw hands” with drew lmao. (lmk if i missed anything!)

WORD COUNT: 1.25k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N adjusted the camera, angling it perfectly to catch the cozy backdrop of the apartment she shared with Drew during her surprise visit to the set of Outer Banks season four.

The faint hum of laughter and chatter outside hinted at the cast heading out to grab food, giving her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.

"Hey, guys!" she began with a bright smile, wiggling her fingers to the camera. "Welcome back to my channel. Today, I've got something hilarious planned. You've seen those TikTok pranks where someone asks if they can bring another girl over while their partner's friends or family are listening, right? Well, I'm doing it today—with Drew."

She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've got the cast in on this. Well, not really in on it—they think I'm at a friend's place for the night, so this is going to be pure gold. Let's see how much they love me and how far they'll go to defend me from Drew's, um... betrayal."

She turned the camera to Drew, who sat beside her on the couch, half-smiling, half-shaking his head.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair. "They're going to kill me."

"Kill us, you mean," Y/N teased, poking his side. "But it'll be worth it. Trust me."

"Uh-huh," Drew replied, arching a skeptical eyebrow. "When JD and Rudy show up with pitchforks, you're taking the blame."

Y/N laughed, her grin widening as she leaned into him. "Oh, come on. You know they love me too much to actually hurt me. You, on the other hand..."

Drew sighed dramatically but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

A few minutes later, Y/N tucked herself behind the camera, keeping it trained on Drew. Drew pulled out his phone and dialed JD's number, putting the call on speaker. The phone rang twice before JD answered, his voice lively with the sounds of clinking plates and background chatter.

"Yo, Starkey!" JD greeted. "What's up, man?"

Drew exchanged a quick glance with Y/N before diving in. "Hey, would you guys mind if I invited someone over?"

The line went silent for a beat, then JD's confused voice came through. "Uh... sure? Who?"

"Just a friend," Drew said casually.

"Cool, yeah," JD replied, his tone nonchalant. In the background, Madelyn could be heard asking, "Who's he inviting over?"

"Oh, she's just someone I met recently," Drew added, making his voice as nonchalant as possible.

Madelyn's voice sharpened. "Wait, she? Did he say she?"

JD stammered for a moment, then said, "Uh, Drew, man, what are you talking about? You have Y/N—why are you inviting another girl over?"

"It's not that deep," Drew said smoothly, earning a wide-eyed stare from Y/N as she struggled to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Not that deep?" Madelyn's voice rose an octave. "Are you fucking insane? Y/N is literally the best thing that's ever happened to you. You're just going to, what, throw her away for some random girl?"

"Yeah, Drew, what the hell?" Rudy's voice chimed in. "Y/N's gonna find out, dude. She always finds out."

"She's not even here," Drew argued. "And I just want some alone time with this girl. Is that so bad?"

Madelyn's voice was nearly a shriek now. "YES, IT'S BAD! You're in a relationship, Drew! A really amazing one, with an incredible person who, by the way, loves you more than anything!"

"And we love her!" Carlacia added. "You're crazy if you think we're not calling her right now."

"Right?!" Chase's voice joined the chorus, sounding equally appalled. "Drew, what is wrong with you?"

JD sighed loudly. "Man, I'm so disappointed right now. Y/N's, like, the nicest, funniest person ever. She's practically family. I don't even know what to say to you."

Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, tears forming in her eyes from trying not to laugh. Drew, ever the actor, kept his tone neutral but shot her a playful glare.

"You guys are overreacting," Drew said, feigning exasperation. "I mean, Y/N doesn't have to know, right?"

The collective gasp from the group was loud enough to make Y/N choke on her laughter.

Madison started a rant so fierce it almost made Drew break. "First of all, how dare you? Second of all, Y/N deserves so much better than this! She's gorgeous, sweet, funny—literally the whole package! And you're just going to throw that away? For what?!"

"I can't believe you right now," Rudy chimed in. "If you're serious about this, I'm calling her. Like, right now."

"No, don't—" Drew began, but Y/N couldn't hold it in anymore.

Her laughter burst out like a dam breaking, echoing through the room. Drew immediately broke character, laughing along as he waved his hands at Y/N’s camera.

"Wait, wait!" Y/N called out, coming into view of her camera. "Guys, relax! It's a prank!"

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a cacophony of voices.

"Are you serious?!" Madelyn exclaimed. "You scared the crap out of us!"

"You both are the worst," JD groaned.

Rudy's laugh boomed through the speaker. "I was about to knock some sense into you, man."

Chase chimed in with mock indignation. "I was ready to drive back and throw hands, Drew!"

Y/N giggled, holding her stomach as she leaned against Drew. "I'm so sorry, but I couldn't resist! I saw it on TikTok and knew you guys would freak out. And you did not disappoint."

Madelyn groaned dramatically. "You two are so lucky we love you."

JD sighed. "I'm not speaking to you for a week."

"Okay, that's fair," Drew said with a grin.

Eventually, after more playful scolding and laughter, the group hung up, leaving Drew and Y/N alone again. Y/N turned off the camera, still giggling as she leaned back against the couch.

"That was amazing," she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Drew shook his head, his expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You're lucky they love you. If it were just me, they'd probably disown me."

Y/N smiled, sliding closer to him. "Well, can you blame them? I mean, look at me. I'm kind of a big deal."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You really are. They adore you, you know that? It's one of the things I love most about us—how easily you fit into my world."

Her teasing smile softened as she gazed up at him. "It means a lot to me, too. They're like family. And so are you."

Drew leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're everything to me, Y/N. I hope you know that."

Her heart melted as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jawline. "I do. And you're everything to me, too."

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The laughter, the teasing, the chaos—it all melted away, leaving just the two of them in their shared little world.

"You think they'll forgive us?" Drew asked after a moment.

Y/N smirked. "Oh, they'll forgive me. You, on the other hand..."

Drew groaned, burying his face in her shoulder as she laughed.

"Totally worth it," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so so adorable and so much fun to write !! i hope you all enjoyed, and please please please like and reblog, it means the world when you do <3

my asks are still open so please don’t hesitate to send any in !! i’m in the mood to write some angst, hurt/comfort if you have any requests for drew or rage <3

[clockwayswrites]

Birdrezzzzzzzzzzzz..... Part 31(?)

masterpost I tried to give this a read over, but so exhausted. It's an awkwardly cut little bit anyways, but hopefully you all enjoy the birb.

Bruce cleared his throat and carded his fingers through Danny’s wing after the towel. “If your wings stay around, we’ll have to look into producing an artificial waterproofing substance for them. I can’t imagine that it would do you any good to be walking around Gotham with damp wings.”

The thought made Danny want to hunch in on himself. “I don’t think I want to walk around Gotham with wings at all.”

“If they stay, you can’t just hide away from the world,” Bruce said.

Danny sighed and rubbed at his face. “I’d like to say I can, but I think that might turn into an argument and I don’t really have the energy for that today.”

“Maybe a little bit of an argument, but only for your own sake. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide away like that because of who you are.”

It was more what he was, wasn’t it? But Danny felt that might end up in a bit of an argument also. And maybe it was wrong. Even if he was no longer ‘Phantom’ as a hero, Phantom was still part of his identity. Eventually it would be his only identity.

“Sadly, not everyone is as accepting of oddities as you and your family, even if things are better now with the more public nature of Metas.”

“I know that not everywhere is there yet, but I would hope that at least WE is somewhere accepting.” Bruce’s frown was obvious in his voice. “If it isn’t, then that’s something that I’ll have to work on.”

“I’m sure you could just sick Lucius on them. He’s not the type to put up with it either.”

“He really isn’t—or any sort of intolerance like that. If it comes to you going to work with your wings out, promise that you will at least talk to one of us if someone is any sort of an issue. At that point it isn’t just about you, that’s not the sort of person we would want at WE,” Bruce said.

Danny gave a little hum.

“Danny.”

“I promise, I promise,” Danny said with a little wave of his hand. “I know there are a lot of people who work to make WE a good place, and I wouldn’t do anything to sabotage that. As embarrassing as it would be, I’m old enough I can deal with taking the hit if it makes things safer for someone else.”

“You are hardly old, Danny.”

“Old enough, though. And secure enough in my job there. If Lucius hasn’t fired me yet I’m pretty sure that I’m good,” Danny replied. “Besides you have to know what I mean. There’s a point where a lot of little things that used to mater don’t anymore.”

“No, I know. I think that most of that was less about age and more about my horde of children.”

“It’s not even ten and you’re already besmirching our good name?”

“Good morning, Tim,” Bruce said.

“Good morning, Tim,” Danny echoed. “And no besmirching going on right now. We’re just lamenting being old.”

“Oh, yeah, that must suck,” Tim said around a wide yawn.

Danny didn’t try to hide his laugh. It may have been quite a number of years since he was one himself, but teenagers always would be teenagers.

“I’d apologizes for him,” Bruce said as he folded the towel he had been using. “But, well…”

“Kids,” Danny finished with a little shrug. “Don’t worry, you have a good flock.”

“Are we doing bird puns now?” Duke asked as he came into the kitchen with Damian on his heels and Cass to his side. “Someone will have to tell Dick.”

“Or perhaps we preserve our sanity and not mention it to Grayson,” Damian said. “Good morning, Dr. Fenton. I trust you rested well?”

“Just Danny is fine, Damian, and I did, yes. I actually feel a lot better today than I have recently.”

Damian gave a nod. “Then you must stay for a few days so that you can recover fully.”

“Damian…”

“He is not wrong,” Cass said. She dropped a kiss to the top of Danny’s head and then Bruce’s cheek as she passed.

“They really aren’t,” Bruce agreed after a beat, “and you’re perfectly welcome here.”

Danny resisted the urge to chew on his lip. He had rested incredibly well and it would let him keep an eye on Tim and Damian. There was also just something… nice about sitting there at a table as it filled up with other people and their chatter.

“Just a few days,” Danny agreed.

Just a few days was enough.

It would have to be.

[sabxynsweet]

sweetheart!reader and mattheo kiss !

You think you might die if you weren't already dead.

Mattheo Riddle was in your room sitting on the edge of your bed watching you pace around in front of him.

He was trying to evade detention and as a joke (more so evidence of your hopeless devotion), you offered for him to hide out in your dorm room and panicked when he agreed.

Now, here he was, observing your space. He looked a little out of place in the middle of your very "you" dorm room, it was almost comedic.

"So, umm," you started, "how was your charms test?" always going back to one of the classes you had in common when you ran out of things to say.

"It was alright. I got an O." He said with a smug smile peaking through.

"You're kidding! You were able to do the bonus question as well?" You ask.

Instead of replying, he grabs his wand from its place beside him on your bed and points it at the silver cardboard stars hanging around your room. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, the stars begin to dance around the room, circling you.

You stare in wonder as they return to their places.

You look at him with what can only be described as hearts in your eyes. "You're so good at that." You say softly with a smile.

The way you looked at him, all enamoured, like he was a prodigy who happened to be good at spells instead of a riddle who was trained to be - that was his favourite thing about you.

"The weather's pretty outside." You blurt out suddenly, he looks at you with a tilt of his head.

There's a beat of silence broken by you falling into a fit of giggles.

His eyebrows raise. "What?"

"M'sorry, it's just so awkward." you say, still laughing, "I'm not this bad at conversation with anyone else, I promise. I think I just get nervous around you."

He stands suddenly, walking towards you slowly, "you get nervous around me?"

"Not in a bad way, I just get nervous in silence and you're - well, you know - quiet and so I feel like I have to fill it - the silence, I mean - and then I say something stupid and then I seem stupid." during your little monologue, he walked closer and closer to you until you were almost face to face, you tilted your face up to look at him.

"I don't think you're stupid." He says, with an amused smile on his face.

"That's... good." You look at him through wide eyes, the last word faltering a little.

"Your eyes get really wide a lot." He mumbles.

"Oh." You whisper.

"It's cute."

He gently puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Can I?" He murmurs but you cut him off quickly.

"Yes, please." You whisper.

He pulls you into a soft, cautious kiss. You feel dizzy.

Afterwards, when your brain wasn't fuzzy anymore you would probably feel sad because now you were on the long list of girls Mattheo had stolen the hearts of. You didn't want to be discarded. You wished so badly to be special.

You don’t think any of this at the moment, though, because one of his hands is cradling your face and the other occasionally brushes your hair away from your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, gazing at you with a softness you want to believe is reserved for you. You think you might love him. You stare into his eyes and you think maybe he could love you, too.

You kiss him again.

and welcome to the start of situationship!mattheo let’s hope it isn’t an angsty, painful ride!

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

junior.

synopsis: holding your child for the first time is always the first step to becoming a good parent. and…what now?

ft; itoshi rin, mikage reo, barou shouei

a/n: my tiktok is cryinggirlnamedhelen with a thanos pfp from squid game season 2. follow me if you want to.

itoshi rin

rin didn’t know how to feel about the cries and yells inside of the delivery room.

it wasn’t common for husbands in japan to stay with his wife during labor, so rin waited outside, pacing around with beads of sweat rolling down his temple. sae and rin’s parents sat on one of the benches while your parents sat on another, hands clasped together and mumbling prayers.

god, rin wasn’t even this nervous during the finals at the world cup.

stupid isagi and bachira had begged to come, and when they came, they just kept on asking what rin’s thoughts were on some stupid names for the baby that they had come up with. rin had shooed them away, and the two were now in the cafeteria, getting food for you when you would finally be done with the painful labor.

rin’s palms began to sweat; why was it taking so long? was it really normal for you to be screaming bloody murder in there? rin didn’t like hearing you in pain, not at all. each of your yelps and cries felt like a stab to rin’s heart. if he could be in there and stay by your side, he would in a heartbeat. but the doctors didn’t want him to be there, and rin trusted the doctors more than himself.

and finally, the high pitched cries of a baby erupted.

everyone stood up, and isagi and bachira came just in time with mountains of food on each plate that they held. the moment a doctor came out of the door with a smile, rin sprinted through the door and kneeled down by your side.

he placed a hand over yours, your skin pale and your breaths shallow, although to rin, you still looked like an angel. “rin. he’s healthy. he’s got your lashes.” a shaky smile made way to your lips before a doctor gently handed rin your newborn baby.

a tuft of dark green—almost black—hair was atop his head, and long underlashes that has been in the itoshi family for generations made way onto his eyes. rin felt his chest tightening, and his eyes began to water.

why did he feel so prideful of someone who he had just met?

the baby boy’s eyes opened; a bright teal, the color of sea glass. rin stiffened; was his kid going to cry? was rin holding him too tightly? did he fail at a father already?

but the small boy just smiled up at rin.

rin’s eyes gleamed, tears glossing over his turquoise irises like the most expensive porcelain china. “hey,” rin whispered softly. rin smiled gently when his son giggled softly. “you must’ve recognized my voice from when i used to talk to you through your mom’s stomach, huh? your mom’s amazing, she just delivered you through so much effort.” isagi and bachira stared from the doorway with their jaws dropped, although isagi’s eyes soon softened.

rin didn’t know why he loved this child so much. he didn’t know why a smile crawled to his lips the moment he saw him. he didn’t know why he felt the need to protect him forever. it scared him a little, but rin knew this feeling well, and he welcomed it.

after all, it was how rin felt when he had first met you.

mikage reo

reo once again winced at the sound of your screams, holding in even more tears and begging that your pain will end soon. once again, he asked his butlers and secretary the same thing as a few minutes again. “is everything there? her favorite foods? her favorite video games and snacks? her favorite movies? that one drink that the nurse recommended that was good for women who just gave birth?”

nagi, who was sitting on one of the benches and was dragged here by reo, replied tiredly, tapping away at his console. “reo, we just checked 3 minutes ago. they’re all here. even your butlers seem tired of this.” reo sent him a glare.

“reo, honey, you should sit. the nurses didn’t want you in there for a reason.” reo’s mother’s attempts at coaxing him were weak, and reo wouldn’t budge from his position standing right next to the door of the delivery room. “they knew that your crying during her pain would distract them.”

reo ignored his mom’s words. he had even tried bribing the nurses into letting him in before realizing that he really would just be a hindrance to deal with in the middle of trying to deliver a baby. a crying husband probably wasn’t a good addition to a screaming and wife.

suddenly, the screaming became higher pitched, more wet, more…alive.

your daughter was born.

without needing any confirmation from the doctors, reo shoved the door open and ran in, sitting on the chair right next to your bed that was placed by the doctor who had cleverly predicted his intrusion. “love, are you okay? does it still hurt? are you hungry? tired? how are you feeling? do you—“

“reo, im okay. thank you. and…” you weakly gestured to the nurse who held your baby wrapped in a bundle of purple blankets. instantly, reo stood up and took the baby into his arms, his eyes brimming with warmth.

“she looks just like you. she’s just as beautiful as her mom.” reo whispered, sitting on the chair again and gently cooing at his newborn daughter. he gently tickled her cheek with his pointer finger, and she giggled. reo’s heart melted and his eyes began to water again before he sniffled. “you’re like an angel. both you and your mom.”

reo’s parents walked in, discussing something about the future heir of the company, although reo ignored them for now. he’ll have to talk to them about how he wanted his daughter to follow her own path at another time. but for now, he just wanted to value this beautiful moment with his wife and newborn daughter.

nagi walked in, reading the room and shoving his gaming console into his jean pocket. he walked to you. “reo panicked a lot, and you screamed a lot. was it really that bad?” at your weak nod, nagi’s eyes widened a little bit. “wow. im suddenly really glad im not a woman.” a glare was sent from both reo and a few nurse.

reo glanced down at his daughter again, and his eyes softened, as if his daughter were the most precious thing in the world. “i love you so much.”

reo barely even knew this newborn girl for a few minutes, but she was always tied for the most beloved person in his heart: tied with you.

barou shouei

barou grew up with two younger sisters. he tolerated and loved them through temper tantrums, periods, puberty, boy heartbreak, and girl problems. he’s been changing their diapers, teaching them how to walk, feeding them, and cooking for them ever since they were infants.

so why was he so nervous about his own daughter, who was soon to be born?

barou didn’t tremble as he waited outside of the door, nor did he cry when he heard your wails and moans of unease. however, he was awfully stiff and overly snappy, even for barou. even when his beloved sisters tried to talk to him to ask about you and your soon to be born daughter, barou was practically already yelling.

when barou’s mother tried to calm him, barou couldn’t bring himself to reply, knowing that he would say rude things that he would regret later on to his own mother. he’d rather not risk it, and instead just nodded, trying to believe that you’re okay in there and that you’re trying your best, which he knows you are.

when the wails of a newborn baby daughter reached barou’s ears, he pushed open the door without even using the handle and instantly stood by your side.

“are you okay? was it too bad?” barou knew that he was being weirdly gentle, but how could he not when his wife just gave birth? you were pale, panting, and beads of sweat rolled down your face and neck, but you were still drop dead gorgeous in barou’s opinion.

“no, not at all.” you whispered. “you know what they said? they said that she’s one of the healthiest they’ve ever seen, maybe the the healthiest. you really did spoil and pamper me during the pregnancy, huh?”

“well, what else was i supposed to do? mistreat you? im not heartless.” a nearby nurse offered barou to hold his daughter, in which he accepted. same colored hair as him, and when she looked up, the same ruby red eyes as him. only difference? her eyes were soft and full of warmth like yours.

barou didn’t think that anything could ever be more perfect than you, but maybe he just found a tie.

[sloaneispunk]

“once smitten”

frontman!in-ho x you

what if in-ho falls for gi-hun’s sister in the games?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ༊· ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“excuse me, i-” in-ho tried to introduce himself.

“ah, you’re so stupid! how could you take an invitation from a stranger?!” gi-hun scolded you as you stood like a little kid before him, head down with your hands behind your back.

“oh, yes, how can we help you?” jung-bae chuckled awkwardly, turning to face in-ho.

“i was just wondering if i could join your team, i saw that-”

“you’re saying that to me?! you came voluntarily too, again!” you shouted back at your brother, cutting in-ho off again as the team tried to de-escalate the situation.

“give me one moment.” jung-bae excused him, pulling you aside, away from gi-hun to calm down.

“i’m sorry.” apologised gi-hun as he turned his attention towards in-ho, looking him up and down once. “i’m gi-hun, that’s my sister y/n.” he said, pointing to you as you slumped onto the ground.

“ah, i must have caught you guys at a bad time.” in-ho sniggered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“no, no. everything’s fine here, you’re welcomed to join us.”

in-ho gave him a grateful smile, walking towards you, brushing skimmed past gi-hun.

“hi, you’re y/n? i’m assuming?”

you nodded, “you had to ask my brother for permission to join?” you jokingly said.

in-ho took a seat on the floor beside you. “what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“gi-hun didn’t come home for a year after his first game. went on like a lunatic about it when he did come home. then, he was gone, next thing i knew i was ‘happily reunited’ with him again here.”

of course in-ho had already knew all that, but it was part of his ruse to get closer to gi-hun.

“but whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. i can take care of myself, i don’t need him.” you scoffed, arms crossed.

in-ho couldn’t help but grin at the sight, you were sulking in a corner with him, about the one thing that was possibly the least dangerous in the whole game.

“well, looks like i’m gonna be here for a while so, you know where to find me if you need me.” in-ho said, nudging your arm.

you giggled. “thanks, i didn’t catch your name.”

“young-il.”

“young-il…” you tried it on your lips, it sounded right.

“i’ll see you around.” he winked before he got up, walking off to join the rest of the team.

after that interaction, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind. somehow, someway, it always went back to in-ho. when you and him were apart, you keeping away from gi-hun, you would sneak glances at him. sometimes, he would even already be staring, making you a blushing mess as you tried to cover it up by looking elsewhere.

after the second game of ‘six-legged pentathlon’, you were sat on your bed with the team surrounding you, all eating the food they had given you.

at that point, gi-hun was fuming. you couldn’t deny that you haven’t been pissing him off but who was he to say anything? afterall, he was the one that abandoned you for this stupid game.

“y/n, finish your food.” gi-hun told you sternly when you left the remainders aside.

“i’m not hungry.” you said monotonously, not meeting his eyes.

“you’re not going to have energy to play the next game if you don’t.” he scolded, raising his voice.

“who cares?”

“y/n. finish it now.”

“or what? you’re gonna disappear again? are you gonna leave me again?” you retaliated, sneering when he didn’t reply.

suddenly, he shot up, grabbing you by the collad as he slammed you into the wall. you screamed, but was silenced when your head came into contact with the rough surface.

“enough, gi-hun!” you heared in-ho yell, “put her down!”

then, you were being dropped to the ground. in-ho ran towards you, grabbing a hold of you before you could fall.

“are you okay?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to see your face.

but you couldn’t reply. you could only look at the ground, tears hitting the floor underneath you.

in-ho couldn’t be assed about anything else at that moment, he gently escorted you to the exit which was heavily guarded. without a word, the guards opened the door, letting you and him both leave without question. maybe if he was in the right mind, he would have been more careful about blowing his cover, but luckily for you, he wasn’t.

in-ho walked you to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting you onto the sink. he took a moment looking at your pitiful form, he felt his heart break.

“can you look at me?” he whispered, waiting for permission before he lifting your chin with his fingers. “let me see your pretty face.”

as you locked eyes with him, you could feel the embarrassment bubbling in your stomach. you were so weak, so vulnerable now before him. “young-il…” you managed to choke out.

he didn’t need anything else, he knew exactly what you needed at that moment, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. the second you had your head on his shoulder, you sobbed. no one, not even you, knew if he was because you were scared, or angry, or hurt, but he was everything you could feel at that moment and nothing else mattered.

a few minutes passed, when you eventually calmed down and pulled away, you let out a laugh. in-ho was confused, did he do something wrong?

“thank you, young-il.” you smiled sadly at the man before you.

internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “are you feeling better?”

you nodded. you lifted your hand, touching the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. “shit.” you cursed under your breath as you looked at your hand, a small trace on blood left on it.

“c’mere.” in-ho instructed, inspecting your wound. “it’s okay, i think it’s just a graze.”

he helped you clean your wound, taking care of you like you were his own treasured item, each movement acted out with upmost care.

“he’s not always like that.” you broke the silence as he hummed. “i don’t know what this place has turned him into.”

but in-ho didn’t care, you had just given him another reason to carry out his plan against gi-hun.

when the two of you headed back to the room, gi-hun ran to you.

“i think you should leave her alone from now on.” in-ho stepped in when he got too close for his liking.

“but y/n-”

“fuck off.” maybe it was a little more than personal now, but either way, he didn’t like the idea of gi-hun coming close to you again.

that night, you slept with in-ho by your side, you cuddled up to his side as he sat still on the bed, careful not to move. in-ho didn’t sleep for the whole night, he was too busy admiring your sleeping form and savouring the feeling of you cuddled up next to him. it made him wonder if this could be what it could be like outside the games.

maybe the you and him would have an apartment, maybe even a dog. it would be the epitome of a perfect life. everynight after work he would come home to you, being welcomed by your hugs and kisses. he smiled hard even just from the thought of it.

much often, when his thoughts had gotten the better of him, he would place a kiss on your forehead or draw cute little patterns on your arm.

y/n, y/n, y/n, what were you doing to him?

[my-castles-crumbling]

heartbreaker - april 13 - jegulus (mention of rosekiller) - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 297

“So,” Barty said when he heard, confusion on his face, “a boy?”

“Hmm,” Regulus nodded, trying not to smirk. “You should try it. Or are you telling me the way you look at Evan is purely platonic?”

Barty’s shocked blush and defensive mumbling made Regulus chuckle as he walked away.

-

“Really, Regulus?” Evan said with a wrinkled nose when he heard. “A Gryffindor? Figured you’d go for a Slytherin, at least.”

Regulus just rolled his eyes. “Your sister’s a Ravenclaw. Shall we all hate her, because she’s not a Slytherin?”

Evan’s thoughtful expression gave him a sense of satisfaction as he returned to his book.

-

“Listen, he’s a nice enough guy,” Dorcas said slowly when she heard. “He’s smart and good-looking or whatever. I just…he has a reputation for being a bit of a heartbreaker. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Because all of the rumors that go around this place are always true, right?” Regulus replied sarcastically.. “I mean, that one about you being straight and in love with Gilderoy Lockheart was completely accurate.”

“Ha! Ew. That’s fair,” she grinned. “Well, he’s welcome here anytime, then.”

-

“Are you also here to tell me why I shouldn’t date Potter?” Regulus asked when he was Pandora approach, annoyance finally surfacing after dealing with comments all day long. “What is it? He’s too nice? Too straight? Too much of a Gryffindor? Too good for me?”

But Pandora just looked at him with wide, blue eyes, sincerity ringing through her every pore. 

“No. I just wanted to say…I saw you with him earlier. The way you two look at each other was magic,” she smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Something warm began to light in Regulus’s chest. “Thanks,” he replied, a small smile forming on his face. “I’m happy, too.”