#you are not in the wrong for needing rest

[lymtw]

The thought of you being with anyone else has always made Satoru sick to his stomach. He can't imagine you loving others more than you love him, and if he ever sees you giggling or smiling at someone else the way you do with him, he'll find a way to include himself or put an end to it overall.

It's understandable that you're at your wits end with his immaturity and his inability to make you feel like he trusts you around others, as his girlfriend, but that doesn't mean he wants you to leave him. He can do better. He can make you feel better. He always does.

You're sitting at the dining room table, working on some slides for an upcoming presentation. You're in your zone, focused, even wearing your big noise cancelling headphones, which blast your calming music playlist into your ears.

Satoru sits on the other end of the table, straight across from you. He watches the focus and concentration that has silently etched into your features, his hands folded as he, too, focuses. You haven't said a word to him in the past two hours. You let him know that you'd be working on schoolwork, but he knew there was something cold running through you when you told him this. He could tell you were still upset about what had happened earlier.

It was a brief interaction you had with someone who simply laughed at the sight of your keychain. They complimented it because it was a character from one of their favorite shows. This two minute interaction was enough for Satoru to storm over to you and the unfamiliar person. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he stared the stranger down with a smile so sweet, it was obvious that it was fake. You were uncomfortable, the stranger was uncomfortable, and Satoru was radiating possession over you. You managed to chuckle nervously and apologized for the interruption.

You can feel his heavenly eyes on you, and you're trying your hardest not to crack under the tension. He always manages to fluster you so easily when he watches you, making it much more difficult to get things done.

The silence makes him want to create noise. He wants you to make noise with him. He wants to show you that he loves you and that he does things like that because you're wanted by many, but are doomed to be only his. He'll make you forget the incident ever happened. He can make you feel better. He'll discreetly plant his firm custom of only fantasizing about you, through his touch, and he'll remind you of the way his eyes lock onto you whenever you move, while he watches your reaction to him running his hands all over you. For fucks sake, you're the nightly stars in the sky to him. What's wrong with treating you as such?

Satoru slowly rises from his seat. You're unbothered by the movement, not looking up as he makes his way around the table. He stands behind you, silently setting his hands on your shoulders, as he glimpses at the professional looking word vomit on your laptop. He sweeps your hair back, clearing your shoulders.

You finally read a part of the text that can be used as evidence later on in the slides, and immediately jot it down in your notes. You're not giving Satoru the attention he wants, so he carefully removes your headphones. That definitely does the job.

"I need those. I can't focus without them." You put your pencil down and stop scrolling on your laptop, turning to look at him.

"And I need you to take a break. You said that isn't due 'til next week."

You roll your eyes and exhale through your nose, turning to face your screen again. "Guess I can work without them," you grumble.

He puts the headphones down on a counter behind him and his hands go back to your shoulders, this time dragging forward, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt. The collar will surely be stretched out by the time he removes his hands.

"Did you hear what I said?" He asks, voice low enough to make your heart drop. His hands slide into the cups of your bra from above, allowing him to hold your breasts.

"I did," you respond, feigning nonchalance, when really you've read the same short passage three times now, as a result of his touch.

"Take a break." He squeezes, gently, taking in the quick jolt of your body when he started concentrating on your nipples. "Indulge me," he spoke, against your ear. He dragged his lips down the side of your neck, kissing every inch of it. It was warm and wet, and it was driving you crazy.

"Satoru..." you said, more breathily than expected. "I need to do this." You contradict yourself and tilt your head to give him more room. He's so enticing. He already has you on board with whatever he has planned, but you'll unstably stand your ground for a couple more minutes to deflate his ego a little.

"If you don't come with me..." he murmurs. "...I will go down there and make it impossible for you to keep working," he continued, between kissing and sucking your neck. Your thighs were pressed together, tightly, and you were so turned on by everything he was doing, all for you to throw him a bone.

You sighed. The pressure offered by your thighs was not enough to satisfy your want for the man touching you.

"Let me put your mind at ease. Bet your brain is fried. Why not just finish it off?" His hands slid out of your shirt, settling on your shoulders once more.

You reached for your pencil, only for your hand to be immediately swatted down by Satoru's hand and pinned to the table.

"Really?" His voice brought goosebumps to your skin.

You sighed in defeat and saved your documents before shutting your laptop, allowing him to lead you to the room. He hummed in satisfaction as you walked with his hand tight around yours.

–

"Satoru! Fuck- Holy- Oh... more, please!" Your words jumbled in an attempt to ask him to keep going against the spot he was abusing. His fingers were slowing, and the stimulation wasn't as prominent. "No. N-No! I was gonna-"

"I know," he cuts you off. "Don't want you to cum yet, sweetie," he groans, using every ounce of patience he has. He wants nothing more than for you to cry out for him once he makes you cum, but you're still thinking, meaning you can still think of the situation from earlier.

"'toru, please. I was so close. This is the second time already."

"Once you break, i'll fix you, babe. I swear. I'll make you cum more than you want to, but give me a little longer, 'kay?"

The transparency of his goal was relieving, but knowing that you'd be toyed with a while longer was frustrating.

"Don't worry your pretty head about when you'll get to cum. It could happen aaany minute now. You have to remember our rule." He smiles, watching the way your stomach quivers in anticipation of his fingers touching your cunt.

You closed your eyes and drowned in the feeling of Satoru's touch. He knows you so well. Knows what turns you on, knows exactly how to get you off, and know how to make you cum in just a couple minutes. He uses this against you when he needs to, but for the most part, Satoru is fair. He's good to you.

Eventually a rule had to be introduced in bed because of his ability to make you cum impossibly fast. The rule implied that if there was enough time to drag your pleasure out, you should make use of all that time, even if it means you don't get as many orgasms. You both agreed that Satoru mastering your weaknesses took away parts of the intimacy when he got you to orgasm so quickly, so he doesn't use those methods as much. He prefers to build you up, anyway. You loved and hated the rule. Loved that you would be observed and touched for longer, and hated that the touch fled as soon as you were on the brink of orgasm.

"Satoru!" You gasp. "Please, I... I-I need this!"

His pace slows again, your body trembling as he pulled his fingers out and stopped all contact with you. His coated digits dragged along your thigh, painting you with translucent wetness. You're so sensitive, twitching at when his fingertips ghost your slit.

"You're getting there." He smiles, too kindly at you.

"Satoru," you groan. He didn't deserve to go by ''toru' in this moment. "If I wanted to be edged, I would have stayed at the table, doing my work while you did whatever you wanted to me, had I not followed you."

"Don't be upset, princess. We both know your brain will shut off the second I make you cum. I just need you with me for a little longer." The kind smile fell off his face. "For the record, I wasn't kidding when I said I would stop you from getting any work done at kitchen table. I promise you, you would have made zero progress."

His switch flipped again, and he gave you a loving grin. He looked up at you from between your thighs, his pretty, blue eyes centered on your own. You love when he looks at you like this—like you're his world, and he would do anything to keep you chained to him. It's moments like this that keep you sane around him. He has this intensity to him when he's alone with you. It causes any doubt you have of his love for you to vanish, instantly. You can never stay mad for long enough when he looks at you this way.

He kisses along your inner thigh, his eyes glue to yours as he does so. His hand stays on your hip, softly pressing his fingertips into the skin. You trembled in his hold when you felt his tongue slide through your folds again. His arms hooked around your thighs, holding you in place when you began to squirm.

"Satoru..." you sighed, your hands gripping the sheets tighter.

"Princess." A smile runs across his lips, not interrupting him as he continues to debilitate you with his mouth.

"Can I please... fuck," you moan. "Please... please," you beg, eyes shut as you try to compose yourself before you continue speaking, but he was relentless.

He let his hands take over, his full attention on what you wanted to say. His thumb glided up and down your slit, occasionally sparing attention to your clit, which only drove you closer to insanity.

"Go on. I'm listening." He very much was listening, your little breaths and whimpers so sweet to his ears.

"Can I cum, please?" Your hips rolled against the mattress, chasing the friction of his fingers against your pussy. This brought a satisfied grin to his face.

"Did you finish all your work?" He looks down to where he's working his fingers into you, mesmerized by the way your slick drooled down his reddened knuckles and the back of his hand.

"T-That's not fair. You pulled me away from my work."

He chuckles at the impatience in your tone. "That's not what I asked you, baby. Did you or did you not finish your work?" His index and middle fingers beckon inside your velvety walls.

"N-No, fuck, no. I didn't," you whimper.

"I love you to death, but I never said this would be a fair game. I'm gonna have to say 'no', too, baby."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears. Tears of impatience and frustration.

"Oh..." he coos. "It's okay. You'll be okay." He placed little kisses on your thighs, as if comforting you through this seemingly endless loop you were trapped in because of him. "Honey, you're gonna be fine. I've got you."

—

Your eyes became waterfalls towards the end of Satoru's game. You were ruined and all hope of cumming any time soon fled by the fifth orgasm you were denied of. He showed you all the affection he could to make up for how selfish he was being with your pleasure. There were fresh hickeys as well as purpling ones all over your lower body.

Satoru loved that he had reduced you to a whimpering, sobbing mess, with just his hands and his mouth. Your arousal, as well as his saliva, coated the better part of the bottom of his face.

His fingers entered you one last time brushing every point of weakness within you, repeatedly.

"Fuck- Oh fuck... Sa...toru!" You moaned. This was different. It was better. It was good. So, so good.

His lips attached to your clit, sucking on it mercilessly.

"Holy fuck..." you whined, sitting up, tangling one of your hands into his hair. Your back arched and your face was aimed towards the ceiling as you took every ounce of pleasure he graced you with. The edge was so close, within reach.

"Please, Satoru, oh my god... please."

With one more curl of his fingers and a swirl of his pointed tongue on your clit, you were launched into oblivion— lost to the overwhelming sensation seeping into you. You cried out his name, him being the only thing running through your mind. Your eyes were shut so tightly that tears spilled down your cheeks all over again. You were panting, cracked whimpers leaving you as you rolled your hips against the mattress. Your grip on his hair tightened even more.

All Satoru could do was watch with marvel, completely ignoring the pain in his scalp. You had the prettiest blush, and like a crystal glaze, your tears decorated your face so stunningly. Your eyes fluttered open again and you looked at him through wet lashes, the most flustered expression on your face as you continued to release small puffs of air. It's then that the constant thoughts of you that echo through Satoru's mind come forward. No one is enough like you are. No one deserves you.

In all the loving thoughts Satoru got caught up in, he was unintentionally starting to overstimulate you. He wouldn't let up, too mesmerized by the way you said his name so sweetly. His arms prevented you from shutting your legs. He couldn't deny that he loved the little grunting sounds you made, and the shuddered "'toru..." you whimpered out when you couldn't handle everything he was giving you anymore.

He finally let up and patted your thigh, silently praising you for being so good for him. Your eyes were shut and your chest was still heaving as you worked to steady your breathing.

There was no doubt in Satoru's mind that you weren't thinking of his little display of possession from earlier, anymore. Just as planned, but just to be completely certain, he would repeat the process a few more times.

[jennifer-jeong]

[Smut] [AFAB!Reader] Somnophilia

SUMMARY He gets needy while you're sleeping but you don't mind

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, fluff sprinkled in, consensual somno, nipple play, clit play, penetration, m and f orgasm, creampie, doggy, lots of kisses, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1848

GOJO SATORU, KAVEH, AVENTURINE, XAVIER, ASTARION Wanderer, Boothill, Dan Heng, Marius Von Hagen

It was one of those days where you immediately collapsed onto your bed when you got home, not even bothering to do your nightly routine before allowing sleep to wash over you. You quickly pulled off your top, bra, and pants to put on a random t-shirt you found on the ground, probably belonging to your boyfriend. You opted to just sleep in this and your panties. It was around 9 pm, the summer sun still finishing its setting, but you were so exhausted you figured you’d just sleep now and maybe get up early.

Around 11 pm, your boyfriend, after noticing you were asleep and getting ready for bed quietly, sneaked into your shared room to join you for a good night's rest.

He laid down to your right, looking at your cute sleeping figure. You were sleeping on your back, turned slightly to the right, peacefully slumbering.

He propped himself up on an elbow to give you some forehead kisses, using his free hand to caress your soft face.

Laying back down, he dug his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, groaning as he exhaled and snaked his arm over your waist.

“Fuck.” He thought.

You always smelled good but why was it doing something to him right now?

Maybe it was that you were wearing his shirt, clearly without a bra. Maybe he was just extra pent up today. Maybe it was how your curves felt as his hand slowly rubbed up and down on your hips. Maybe it was that his hand was reaching up to your chest, rubbing at your nipples through the thin fabric. Maybe it was how your body still reacted so sensitively to him even while you slept, your sensitive buds already hardening under his touch.

He stopped for a second, feeling bad that he was doing this to you while you slept. Even though he knows that you two have already talked about this, and that you were actually very insistent that he was allowed to do something like this, he still hesitated.

After some more internal debate, he decided he’d just be gentle with you. His goal was to slowly wake you up and if you didn’t want to continue he’d apologize profusely, even though he knew you well enough to know that you definitely wouldn’t mind if he woke you up like this.

His hand returned to your body, slipping under the shirt you were wearing, feeling your smooth skin as it traveled up to your chest again. He kneaded your bare breasts, thumb playing with your still hardened nipple.

Somehow, his little internal debate and his decision to continue was making him even more hot and bothered. It was the fact that he thought so deeply about the situation and made himself deeply aware that he was doing this to your body without your conscious knowledge.

In any other situation, he’d feel wrong about this, but with the trust you two had in each other and with how long you’ve been dating, it was actually turning him on more. Knowing that you loved him enough to trust him with your body like this. Knowing that he’d let you do the same in a heartbeat. Knowing that you’d probably be as turned on as him right now if you were awake.

Fuck, you were so perfect for him.

He needed to show you how much he loved you and just how badly he needed you.

He sat up, kissing at your neck and collarbone as he made his way between your legs.

When he removed the covers from you, he noticed you were just wearing panties under. A cute pair of white lacy panties, they were a design that was comfy enough for you to have worn throughout the day but somehow you still made them look as sexy as lingerie to him.

He hooked a hand under your leg to position himself properly while his other hand pushed your shirt up above your chest to reveal your pretty tits to him. His hands then both went to roll your nipples between his thumb and finger before sliding down, admiring your waist, your curves. Your skin was so smooth it drove him crazy. At this point he was painfully hard and breathing heavy just from worshiping your body.

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you would’ve woken up and told him to continue by now, but you really were fully knocked out.

His hands continued south, grabbing the top of your panties to pull them down and helping you take them off, taking note of the wonderfully filthy fact that strings of arousal connected you and the fabric together. The sight made him clench his jaw and also served as evidence that he should keep going.

He held your legs apart slightly, not wanting to force you to stretch too much. He lined his tip up with your folds, rubbing his pre cum in with your arousal before sinking his tip in. His mouth hung open as he watched where you two were connected with lidded eyes.

He fucked you with his tip a bit despite the fact that your body was already ready for more. You shifted in your sleep a bit and he let go of your legs to let you position yourself however you wanted. You turned more onto your right side so he started to hug your left leg as he eased more of himself into your gummy walls.

He was so fucking sensitive, the drag of his length on your slicked walls felt so fucking good. After a few more thrusts, he easily bottomed out in you. He cursed under his breath, thinking about how perfectly you fit around him, as if you were made just for each other.

He started a slow pace, fucking you slow, hoping to wake you up soon.

You started to stir, slowly regaining consciousness as he slowly thrusted into you. At the same time, you started to react to it more too. Quiet moans starting to slip out of your mouth which only encouraged him further. The wet sound of his length massaging in and out of your core added even more to his need for you right now.

Soon, you shifted more, now onto your stomach. He separated from you to let you get comfy, assuming you might still be asleep but hoping you were waking up a bit at least. He sat between your legs as you laid on your chest, he kneaded your ass and spread your folds to see your pretty self covered in arousal.

“Hmm…? Baby?” You slurred, sleep in your voice evident. You lifted your head slightly, eyes still closed, waiting for a response.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry to wake you up and to do this while you’re asleep-” he apologized before you cut him off with a displeased groan.

“Why are you apologizing baby?” You continued sleepily as you spread your legs further, pulling a pillow under your stomach to prop yourself up onto your knees, “keep going, feels s’good.”

“A-are you sure?” He questioned one last time.

“Mmhmm I’m sure baby, you know I like it,” you replied, laying your head back down to rest it on your arm, closing your eyes.

Your boyfriend exhaled shakily, leaning over your back to pepper kisses over your exposed skin, shirt still pulled up all the way. “So good to me,” he whispered into your skin as he eased himself back into your needy cunt.

You were insanely turned on at this point. Knowing that he initiated this and that your body was responding to him despite being unconscious was fucking hot. The fact that he needed you so badly but still made sure to check if you were okay with it made your head spin. God you loved this man.

He started to thrust into you slow, drawing long strokes where you could hear the slick slide of him going in and out so clearly. His jaw was slack, hands gripping your ass as he could barely keep himself upright on his knees from how good it felt.

He threw his head back as he started to speed up, the light “plap” sound filling the air and adding to your arousals.

Your brow furrowed as you started to moan into the pillow, slowly actually consciously perceiving the pleasure he was giving you.

“Y’fill me up s’good baby,” you hummed, breathing heavy.

“Fffuck… You’re such a good fucking girl f’me.” He replied, panting just as heavily as you. “Gonna make you feel good yeah? You deserve it.”

He leaned over you and snaked a hand around to rub at your neglected clit, wanting to at least attempt to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. But you were squeezing him so tight, he wasn’t sure if anything could feel better than this.

His free hand started playing with your tits, rolling and pinching at your sensitive nipples. You were still partially awake but the raw pleasure he was giving to you made you feel like you were dreaming. Him stimulating your tits, clit, g spot, stretching you out at the same time, and the delicious drag of him on your walls was dizzying.

He started to get more rough with his thrusts as he felt your pussy twitch around him, indicating you were getting closer, also bringing him closer to his high. Pure desire was taking over the man as the slapping of your skin together started getting louder, rhythm getting faster.

You could feel him twitching in you at this point as his small whines and groans started to turn into louder moans, his eyes turning into hearts, watching where you two were connected.

Your bliss plus your lingering exhaustion prevented you from forming a more proper sentence so all you could manage to tell him you wanted to finish together was “ngh… i-inside baby… please mmm- hhngg.”

Both of you tumble over the edge together as you clamp down on him as his body shakes, trying his best to ride out both of your highs. Waves of pleasure continue to rack both of your bodies as you moan in unison. He continues to give you light thrusts and toy with your clit as you both come down.

After overstimulating both of you for a few strokes, he pulls out to admire the cum dripping out of your twitching hole.

Sleep starts to take over him though so he quickly cleans the two of you up, fills your water bottle and jumps into bed.

He was going to whisper some sweet nothings to you about how much he loves you but you had already fallen fast asleep. But, it didn’t stop him from giving you lots of forehead kisses while holding you close to his chest and it didn’t stop you from nuzzling into his neck subconsciously. Both of you expressing yourself without needing words. You both slept very well that night.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||

[uzurakis]

DEALING WITH A BROKEN HEART!

featuring: gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. nanami kento.

how they would comfort you after you’re rejected by your crush! (requested)

n. didn’t proofread n i wrote this at midnight cz i still hafta catch up on my reqs. i’m only a hooman guys!! so pls sorry for any typos or mistakes ajhauns and i specifically chose this manga panel 4 OBVIOUS reasons . .

GOJO SATORU. “wanna know what i’m thinking?” he started, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “it’s their loss! obviously, they don’t have great taste.”

you managed a weak smile, shaking your head. “thanks, satoru. but it still . . hurts.”

gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving you a serious look that was rare for him. “look, i get it. rejection sucks. but honestly, you’re way out of their league.”

then you raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a small laugh. “really? you think so?”

he nodded emphatically, his usual smirk returning. “duh, absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to be with someone as amazing as you? they’re probably just too intimidated by your awesomeness.”

you rolled your eyes, but the humor in his words did frankly lift your spirits a bit. “you’re just saying that.”

“nope, i’m dead serious.” gojo straightened up, putting a hand over his heart. “in fact, i’m starting to think i should be worried. you’re gonna have a line of people trying to win you over, and i’ll have to fend them all off.”

ITADORI YUUJI. “hey,” he said softly, nudging your shoulder with his. “c’mere, i feel you need a hug.”

you looked up at him, your eyes misty, and saw the genuine care in all over, very clear midst his expression. without a word, you leaned into him, and he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace began to melt the icy sadness in your heart.

“i’m really sorry,” he whispered, voice gentle. then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “but you don’t have to go through this alone. let’s do something together to take your mind off things. how about a movie night?”

a small smile tugged at your lips despite the tears. “a movie night?”

“yeah!” he said, his pupils lighting up. “we can watch whatever you want. comedy, action, even those cheesy romance movies you love.”

you laughed a little at that, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits. “hmm okay, that sounds good.”

“great!” he stood up, offering you his hand. “and don’t worry, i’ll bring all the snacks. we’ll have a proper movie marathon!”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “um, do you want to talk about what happened?” megumi asked softly, his voice steady and inviting. “it might help to get it off your chest.”

you sighed as you felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. “i don’t even know where to start,” mumbling the words above a murmur.

“that’s okay. just take your time. i’m here to listen.”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though. it was the kind of silence that felt like a warm embrace, giving you space to collect your thoughts. you glanced up at the sky, searching for the right words.

“they just . . didn’t feel the same way,” you finally said, voice cracking. “i thought there was something there, but i guess i was wrong.”

his gaze softened. “rejection is hard,” he then said quietly. “but it doesn’t define you. it doesn’t change who you are or your worth.”

finding comfort in his steady presence, you looked at him. “i just feel so stupid for thinking there was a chance.”

“you’re not stupid,” the guy replied firmly. “you took a chance, and that takes courage. it’s okay to feel hurt, but don’t let this make you doubt yourself.”

NANAMI KENTO. after a moment, nanami broke the silence. “you deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. this just wasn’t the right person.”

you glanced up at him, but your eyes filled with tears. “but it felt like they were the right person,” you said, voice trembling. “how could i have been so wrong?”

in a moment, his face softened, nanami’s usual stoic demeanor giving way to concern. “it’s not about being wrong. sometimes, people just aren’t capable of seeing what’s right in front of them. you have so much to offer. one day, someone will see that and appreciate you for who you are.”

“it just hurts so much right now.”

he nodded, understanding. “it’s completely normal to feel this way. anyone would be upset. it’s a natural reaction to a difficult situation.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “i just don’t know what to do next.”

nanami leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “then take your time to heal. focus on yourself and what makes you happy. you’re strong, and you’ll get through this.”

@uzurakis

[ventismacchiato]

O6 stuck with you — crash course on how to not be an idiot !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

“Why are you just standing outside the door like a creep?”

You turn to see Scara standing behind you, adorned in sweatpants with bags under his eyes as his members slowly catch up with him. You have the knee-jerk reaction to argue with him.

“I’m not,” you defend, “You’re the one running late, is someone scared?”

“You’re the one who hasn’t gone inside,” Scara points out, reaching out to grab the doorknob but you jut your arm out to stop him, “I was right, you are scared,” Scara smirks.

You swelled up, stepping back and squaring your shoulders, and Scaramouche was immediately certain that the next words out of your mouth were going to be a lie.

“I’ll have you know…,” you caught sight of his dubious expression and seemed to deflate right before his eyes.

“I heard your mom’s attending the meeting,” you easily lie.

Scara immediately takes his hand off the doorknob.

“See, I’m not the only one scared!” you gloat.

“I’m not scared of my own mom,” Scaramouche replies. But there was an edge to his words that made you wonder if you’d just stepped on a landmine. But, being the stubborn idiot you were you barrelled on regardless, hoping to cover up the tension by burying it with more words.

“Just admit you don’t wanna go in either, wouldn’t kill you to stop acting like a smartass for two seconds.”

“I don’t act like one, everyone’s just smarter compared to someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re proving my point.”

“Fuck you, I-.”

The door gets thrown open by an exasperated Jean who is looking at you both with a solemn expression.

“Just when I thought you both were getting along,” she says, stepping back to gesture you both inside.

“We are!” you speak up, “Please don’t put us on hiatus again!”

“We weren’t even arguing,” Scaramouche adds, rather unconvincingly.

“Yeah, I love this little guy!” you lie. 

You both give her a strained smile as she sees through your bullshit. 

“I wish I believed you,” she sighed, “We really need to work on your acting skills.”

“Why would we—,” you don’t get to finish your question before the rest of your group members barge in after you, forcing you to attend the meeting you’ve all been dreading all week.

///

“So, before we continue with my portion of the meeting Lisa is going to give a crash course on media training,” Jean says, gesturing to Lisa standing in front of you all with a rather pointy pointer in her hand.

“Welcome to Lisa’s crash course on Media Training,” your manager smiles, “If you guys answer anything wrong then I’ll hit you with this stick!”

“Lisa, you can’t hit them,” Jean interrupts.

“Really? What’s the point then?” she sighs dejectedly, “Ok moving on. I’m going to throw some scenarios at you, and I want you both cuties sitting in the front to listen.”

You and Scara awkwardly avert eye contact with her and shrink in your seats.

“Scenario one, if you and another group under the same entertainment tie for an award, what do you do when you get on stage and there’s only one trophy?” Lisa asks, eyeing you.

Suddenly the shoes you’re wearing become rather intriguing.

“I think-,”

“Not now, Childe, honey,” Lisa interrupts, pointing at Scaramouche who was forced to sit next to you, “I want to hear from him.”

“Share the award,” he grumbles.

“Exactly! Basically the opposite of whatever you both had going on,” Lisa muses, “Even if you both hate eachother you want to appear nice in front of new fans and sponsors. How about you both come on up here and act it out!”

“I’d rather not,” you start, but Lisa is already grabbing you and Scara and pushing you to the front, taking your seat.

“Go on, pretend that book is the award,” Lisa points as you pick up her book. 

“Why is the cover some shirtless guy?” Childe asks.

“Not now, hun,” Lisa hums as she waves him off, “Continue.”

Scara stares distastefully at you and the scenario you both were in.

“Wow. Congrats on the award,” he praises in a monotone voice. He pauses for a second before clapping his hands just once.

“Thank you,” you say back, your face neutral as you hold the book up, “What an honor this…is.”

The room is silent for a few seconds before someone speaks up.

“That was terrible,” Venti boos.

“It was rather…not good,” Lisa says, “There’s no nice way to put that. But better than screaming at eachother.”

“I only yelled because he yelled first,” you defend, tossing the erotic book aside, “Maybe he should be working on his media skills.”

“Maybe you should work on not being a sore loser,” Scara shoots back.

“Better than being just a loser.”

“Ironic coming from you—.”

“Alright!” Lisa claps as she stands up, “Back to your seats you go, I’ll just email the powerpoint to you both. That’ll be better.”

“Let’s take five and I’ll get into the main reason we’re here,” Jean sighs, “Ease up.”

“Listen guys,” Jean drawled, leaning on the back of one of the chairs as everyone got situated once again, “We are low on publicity after that scandal at the award ceremony.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Scaramouche mumbled. 

Everyone shoots him a look.

“Okay, I admit it’s our fault. But isn’t everything fine now?” you say, taking the bullet. 

“Well, sort of,” Jean starts, “But in order to keep our appearance high we’ve decided to host a show starring you all.”

“It was an idea we scrapped a while ago, but kept in the back just in case,” Lisa smiles, “A dating show!”

The room was silent before a ruckus exploded.

“What do you mean by dating show?” Lumine asks, “Who the hell are we dating?”

“Do we even have time for a show?” Kazuha pipes up.

“Where is the show going to be? Is it gonna be like the bachelor? Can I be the bachelor?” Childe rambles, “Wait, I wanna be one of the girls who fights for a rose.”

“If it’s the bachelor then are we all going to try and date one person?” Aether muses. 

“This is stupid,” Scara states. And for once you agreed with him.

“Everyone, hush!” Lisa interrupts, raising her voice to get everyone to quiet down, “Let me explain before you get your panties in a twist.”

“Our panties in a what?”

“Now not Childe,” Lisa sighs, “Okay, Jean, take it away. And everyone save your questions for the end.” 

“The dating show will be with all of you,” Jean states, “Later on we will add a few extra people, at most three, who will also be idols. It won’t be like the bachelor, but more like Love island if I had to compare. We’ve rented out a private island where this will be recorded.” 

“We can always script random shit for views, so don’t stress too much,” Lisa adds, “But it’ll be better if it’s authentic. That being said, there’s only two of you in this room who will be following a script and have to end up together.”

Jean and Lisa both gesture to you and Scara.

“Scaramouche and Yn, you both will be fake dating on this show. And if need be after the show we can have a fake break up where you end on good terms, or have you both continue to date,” Jean explains casually as if she was simply recounting the weather.

The room is silent before everyone but you and Scara erupt into laughter.

“Oh my god,” Venti cackles, “This is going to be great.”

“I can’t wait to see you both kiss,” Childe grins.

“How the fuck is this supposed to mend our image?” Scara speaks up.

“Believe it or not, love, people ship you both,” Lisa smiles, “Even though you both are gremlins. So the fans and media will eat this up.”

“Why can’t I date someone like Lumine or Venti instead?” you question.

“I’ve seen farmers markets with less fruit, try again,” Scara remarks.

“Fuck off,” you sigh, not willing to accept your fate.

“Wait, so do the rest of us have to find someone to fake date?” Aether pipes up.

“Honestly, the rest of you can do what you want as long as you keep it interesting and reasonable,” Jean answers, “You guys can fake date or actually date your members for fun, I suppose.”

“If the show gets bland we’ll assign designated couples and scripts but you guys will mostly have free will,” Lisa adds on.

“Wow,” Childe whistles, “So who wants to cheat with me on live television?”

Lisa stares at him for a moment.

“Okay, everyone but Childe has free will.”

“Don’t damage your images even more,” Jean sighs. 

“Dibs on Yoimiya,” Lumine quickly says.

“We’re calling dibs?” Venti asks.

“Then I want Xiao,” Kazuha muses.

“Let’s team up Aether!”

“Guys,” Jean sighs, “You can sort the details later and in private, for now we just need you to sign some forms so we can get production going.”

“What if I don’t wanna do it,” Scaramouche asked, already halfway out of his seat. 

“Too bad, we’re writing this off as a free holiday. And according to Section 3E in your idol contracts, it’s mandatory you take one every year.” Lisa grinned, pulling out a stack of papers. “Sign away cuties, no escaping this.”

Scaramouche slowly sat back down, staring down at the contract with a look of disappointment in his eyes. 

“This will be a good chance for you guys to get to know each other as friends, idol work is exhausting and can strain relationships!” Lisa explained as she passed out pens, “This is a great opportunity for you guys to relax!”

You stared down at the piece of paper in front of you, skimming the clauses.

Idols Inferno™ Participation Contract This contract outlines the terms and conditions for participation in the dating show Idols Inferno™ hosted by former idol Yae Miko, hereinafter referred to as "the Show". The Show will take place on TG6, a private island accessible via plane from Teyvat. 1. Participation Participants agree to actively participate in the three-week-long Show, adhering to the rules and guidelines set forth by Sakura Entertainment, the production company. 2. Accommodations and Activities Participants will be accommodated together at TG6. Regular idol training activities will be suspended during the duration of the Show. Participants are strongly advised against engaging in such activities. 3. Filming and Media Rights 3a. Camera crews will capture footage of participants throughout the filming period, with the exception of private areas such as restrooms. Hidden cameras and microphones will be installed throughout, including bedrooms. 3b. All footage captured during the Show remains the sole property of Sakura Entertainment, which retains the right to use and distribute it publicly. Participants forfeit any claim to ownership of footage in which they appear or that includes other participants. 4. Confidentiality Participants agree to maintain strict confidentiality regarding the content, activities, and outcomes of the Show until the official airing date. Disclosure of behind-the-scenes information before this time is strictly prohibited. 5. Electronics and Communication 5a. Personal cell phones and electronic devices are strictly prohibited during filming. Devices must be securely stored and may only be used outside of filming hours. Violation of this rule may result in confiscation of the device. 5b. A communal television and house phone will be provided for public use in the dormitory area. 6. Scripted Interactions 6a. Participants Scaramouche Shogun and Yn Ln are required to portray a fictional romantic relationship as scripted by the Show's producers. This may involve physical contact and specific dialogue as outlined in the provided script. 7. Dispute Resolution Any disputes or disagreements arising from this contract or during the filming of the Show will be resolved through mediation, arbitration, or another mutually agreed upon method. 8. Schedule and Production Details a. A tentative filming schedule will be provided to participants outlining key activities and events. Participants are expected to adhere to the schedule as directed by the production team. Please review and sign below to indicate your acceptance of these terms. Participant Name: ________ Date: Representative Name: ________ Date: 

You signed away your fate, sighing dejectedly. 

“Why are you standing like that?”

You scoffed, suddenly self conscious about your body.

“This looks natural, shut up.”

You had found Scara waiting for you in the lobby but once he caught sight of you he started walking ahead, leaving you behind as he started scouting outside for a good photo spot. He didn’t waste any time in ordering you around, and maybe it was the events of the day and how late it was at night, but you found yourself complying.

“You’re supposed to look like you’re having fun,” he berates.

“As if you’d know what that looks like, you rarely even smile,” you say back from where he had you stand by a tree.

“I do, just not around you.”

You roll your eyes as you sit on a bench you guys stumbled upon. It was late into the night and you both were wandering the streets your dorms were located on, but since you guys were isolated due to being idols there weren’t many places to hang out let alone fake a photoshoot.

“You’re helpless,” he mumbles, stepping forward and grabbing your legs to swing your body to the side of the bench so you’re laying down.

“Hey–!”

He joins you and sits on the other side of the bench, grimacing as he places your legs onto his lap.

“Take a photo,” he instructs.

“This is weird,” you say, not enjoying how Scara oddly had a keen eye for posing couple photos. You comply and take a few, showing Scara who immediately deleted them. After doing that for almost five minutes he was finally satisfied and pushed your legs off of him.

“Post it, now we’re done,” he says, getting up and walking back to the dorms.

“Wait up,” you huff, walking one pace behind him. You weren’t about to walk alone at night, even if your only other option was tailing Scaramouche.

He didn’t say another word until you guys reached your dorm buildings. Before he turned to head back he spared you a look.

“Let’s just get this fucking show over with.”

For once, you didn’t disagree.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

changed the update account pfps so it’s easier to see xx

did i eat that contract up or what guys

asking again pls comment on the masterlist if i can use ur username and make u a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — sorry gang i was rlly sick last week and cudnt write el oh el so enjoy this long chapter

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[suskz]

Hi pretty!! Can i request something about seungmin or lee know being a dilf luv u!!

pairing: dad!Minho x fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; smut ; single dad Minho ; babysitter reader ; reader is an adult ; oral (m!rec) ; piv sex.

w/c: around 2.5k

a/n: please dilf Minho is so 😵‍💫 my brain said SEX SEX SEX but my heart wanted more. I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sometimes you think about how it could have happened, if it had to happen, and if all of this is wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a handsome man. He’s mature, responsible, and so, so sweet.

But you wonder if all of this is really necessary, as your phone rings inside your bag on the chair.

You both stop your movements, and your eyes meet again. It’s really embarrassing to be interrupted at this point.

His grip on your hair doesn’t change, “Do you want to answer?” He asks only out of politeness, because he doesn’t really want you to answer. He wants you to stay on your knees and let him continue without interruptions because damn, your mouth feels so good around him and he just can’t get enough of it.

You think about it for a few seconds, but the answer is already written in your eyes.

You shake your head without even taking his cock out of your mouth, and the sight is so hot that he moans just from that.

“You’re unreal.” His hand resumes guiding the movements of your head, “You look fucking gorgeous with your mouth full.”

You squeeze your legs together at the praise and don’t suppress the moan that his words elicit because you know it sends vibrations to his cock that drive him crazy.

That’s why his hips buck hard into your mouth, pushing his cock deeper and making you choke around it for a moment.

He stops, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head no and start moving it again on your own, back and forth, letting him know that you’re fine and want to continue.

“Such a good girl.” His hand holds your head still as his hips begin to move quickly, “Taking cock so well,” he’s no longer looking into your eyes; he’s watching the spot where his cock enters and exits your mouth now, “Like you were— made for it.”

His breathing has sped up again. Your phone has stopped ringing, and now the only sounds you can hear are his soft breaths and moans.

The tears forming in your eyes make them shiny. Your face is probably a mess, but what’s important is that he feels good inside your warm mouth.

And he does, because his hips start to stutter erratically.

It takes just one look at your face and he’s throwing his head back, urgently pulling his cock out of your mouth, stroking himself hard and fast through his climax.

You feel a bit disappointed, honestly, because you really wanted him to come inside your mouth, but you don’t complain when you feel the spurts of his hot cum land on your face. Some on your cheeks, some over your nose, even on your eyelashes and your still-outstretched tongue.

You didn’t even have time to close your mouth before he came, but it’s fine. At least you tasted it a little.

“Wait, don’t open your eyes.” You do as you’re told and feel him taking something. His hand delicately takes your chin to lift your face, and with a tissue, he wipes the com from your eyes so you can open them again without anything getting in.

You thank him as you sit on the bed next to him, taking the tissue he hands you to clean the rest of your face.

And you look at yourself in the mirror when you’re in front of the bathroom sink and feel something weighing on you. Your mind is empty, there are no thoughts bothering you, yet there’s something that makes you feel bad.

But everything gets better when you return to him and look at him. He’s so handsome, even as he does something as simple as gathering some papers into his work folder.

He glances up at you, “Do you need something?”

“Uh- no, just- I wanted to take Eunji to the park today, is that okay?” Yes, it is okay, it’s fine, it’s always fine if it’s with you, but you don’t know what else to come up with.

He chuckles, perhaps amused by the silliness of your question, “Of course, there’s no problem, you already know.”

And soon you part ways. He rushes to work, you rush to pick up the little girl from school.

His child. The daughter of the man you just gave a blowjob to. The daughter of the single man you’ve maybe gotten a little too close to in these past few months, and who might almost be your father’s age. But it’s okay like this.

—

"Can I taste yours?" Eunji looks at you with those puppy eyes that you can't say no to. She knows it and takes advantage of it, little brat.

Her eyes light up as she tastes your ice cream. She lowers her eyes to hers with a sad expression, "Yours is so good."

You roll your eyes at her unspoken but obvious request, "Want to swap?"

She looks at you with sparkling eyes and nods eagerly.

You smile sweetly at her, and it's at this moment that your phone vibrates in your pocket.

It's Minho.

You're confused by his message until you hear Eunji's voice and see her getting up, "There's daddy!" You turn your head in the direction she started running, and you see him, waiting for her with open arms.

He has such an affectionate, serene, and sincere smile as he picks her up and spins her a couple of times in his arms —gently, mindful of the ice cream she holds— that you can't take your eyes off them. And you can't help the way your heart melts at the sight and a smile forms on your lips.

You see him lick her ice cream and see them talking, but you don't understand what they're saying.

Then it's like he remembers your presence and turns to look at you. You watch as he approaches you, and you stand up.

“Come join us too, Y/n! Group hug!” Eunji’s words freeze you in place amidst the white flowers of the field, and even Minho’s shoulders seem to stiffen.

It all happens so quickly though. It has to happen quickly. Because there’s nothing wrong with hugging after everything you’ve done together. It should be normal, right? It should be natural for the two of you.

Yet you feel hesitant, and Minho seems slightly embarrassed. It’s just new. It’s strange to say, but it is. Many things have happened between the two of you, but never this.

You try not to think about it as you accept his invitation and position yourself between his arms, wrapping your arms around him and the little girl.

You try not to think about how this is the first time you’re hugging him and might be the last, as you unconsciously melt into his embrace and savor the moment for as long as it lasts.

And of course, sooner or later you have to let go.

“Why are you here at this hour?” You try to sound as normal as possible despite the slight —not so slight— discomfort.

“I didn’t quite understand it myself, but they let me go earlier.” He, on the other hand, shrugs and seems to be fine.

“Then Y/n can come home with us, and we can all be together!” The little girl, still in her father’s arms, cheers happily.

Minho chuckles, “She’ll have things to do too, don’t you think?” Then he turns to you, “You can leave early today.”

Actually, you would have preferred Eunji’s proposal, but you’re forced to go along with Minho’s.

The girl rests her head on her father’s shoulder and sighs sadly.

You and Minho look at each other, then he looks at her, “What’s wrong?” He asks her sweetly.

“I wanted Y/n to stay with us,” she says, her voice trembling as if on the verge of tears, which she isn’t.

“I think Y/n would prefer to go home now, she must be tired.”

She sniffs, “Can she come for dinner at least?”

Minho seems to consider it. Oh, how he would enthusiastically say yes if he could, if only it didn’t seem weird.

Instead, he looks at you, the question already written in his eyes, “Would you like to? No pressure.”

Yet you feel the pressure anyway, from the weight of both their gazes, waiting for your response.

And so, a few hours later, you find yourself in front of Minho’s apartment door, dressed in your black shorts, chosen because of the heat.

When the door opens, you are greeted by a warm smile from Minho, holding a wooden spoon, and a hug from Eunji. Moments later, you’re in the kitchen, standing behind him as he moves around the stove expertly, and you feel so useless.

“I’d like to help, but I’d probably burn everything.”

There’s something good in this, because it makes him chuckle. “No problem,” he replies calmly, “I’m almost done anyway.”

“I want to be useful though.”

He turns towards you and raises an eyebrow, “Is it really you who’s saying that?”

Your cheeks tinge with a slight blush. You try to be helpful and he teases you like this.

“Sorry for trying to be useful once in a while.” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

He grins and turns back, “You can set the table while I finish.”

“It’ll be done!” you say, “By the way, that apron suits you really well.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised, then wrinkles his nose, “It makes me look like a cleaning lady or something; at least that’s what Eunji says.”

You laugh at his words, “Eunji is just a kid,” you reassure him. “I think it makes you look hot.” you add in a slightly lower voice.

Your eyes linger on him for just a second, but you swear you see his ears start to darken.

—

Dinner goes well, with a warm atmosphere and calm conversation.

Afterward, it’s Eunji who decides the plans. After all, you are there specifically for her. Or rather, at her request.

Time passes without you even noticing. Between board games and stories told by the little girl, you and Minho manage to find time to talk just between yourselves.

He holds back laughter while telling you about that time Jeongin, whoever he is, fell into a manhole, and his eyes sparkle as you talk about the saga you just finished watching.

When you finally glance at the clock, you regret not paying more attention.

You quickly get up, but Minho stops you, “Wait,” you freeze in your tracks, “It’s really too late, it would be dangerous to go out at this hour.”

He doesn’t want you to leave. He doesn’t want you to leave because he’s worried about you. And he doesn’t want you to leave because it’s a chance for him, a chance to spend precious time with you that he can’t let slip away now that it’s presented to him. 

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, “You won’t be a burden, I’m the one offering you to stay.” His voice is firm, and faced with his eyes so serious and determined, you agree to spend the night there.

After putting Eunji to bed, Minho quietly exits her room and finds himself facing you. You look into each other’s eyes, irises like chained together, and you smile at each other, amidst sentences and words kept hidden.

He prepares a space for you to sleep on the couch, and eventually, you both sit there, side by side.

“Eunji is really fond of you,” Minho says, looking down at his hands, “I think she sees in you something that I can’t be.” He lifts his eyes, meeting yours, understanding.

“You’re already enough for her; I’m just an addition.”

“You’re not an addition; you’re important to her.” He insists. And to me, he wants to add, but knows he can’t say that.

And then the unexpected happens. You don’t know who makes the first move, who leans in first, but it doesn’t matter when his lips are on yours, in a sweet kiss. A loving kiss ruined by wandering hands that force it to deepen.

But, fuck, you’d ruin it a thousand times over if it meant finding yourself beneath him every time, with his cock thrusting in and out of you in a needy, perhaps somewhat desperate way.

And you’re so wet that you know the bed sheets will need a good wash in the morning.

His voice is like a caress when he leans over you with his lips at your ear, “Shhh,” he whispers softly, “We don’t want to wake Eunji, do we?”

You are forced to bite your lower lip to stifle the sounds that want —need— to escape your lips.

But his thrusts are so well-aimed and deep, his hips so precise, and his moans released right into your ear so fucking arousing that you have to reach out and grab a pillow to place over your mouth.

He looks back at you, and a louder, needier moan leaves his parted lips, as his expression shifts from one of concentration to pure pleasure.

It’s only when you feel close that you move the pillow. “Minho, I’m close…” you warn him.

“Me too,” he groans, “Come with me.”

“Yes, yes, yes! J-just a little more, please.”

He does his best to hold back a little longer, and it only takes a few circles on your clit to make you come, tightening around his cock that finishes inside the condom.

He doesn’t realise it immediately, too caught up in the pleasure, but as he tries to catch his breath, he thinks about it and realizes.

“I love you- Minho, I-” You said it just before coming; it might have been something of the moment.

He lifts his head from where it’s resting in the crook of your neck and looks at you.

You are motionless, embarrassed, regretful. Because, fuck, you didn’t really need to say it. You could have realised the gravity of your words before saying them.

And Minho could pretend nothing happened. He could act like he didn’t hear it, and you could go on as usual. But, fuck, he can’t.

The words escape his lips before he can stop them, “Did you really mean it?” He’s so direct, a request so desperate.

And you could say, “No, it was just the heat of the moment.” but apparently, that’s not really an option for you, because you speak without thinking twice, and you couldn’t feel freer when he smiles and kisses you. His soft lips on yours, in a moment you both have been waiting for so long.

And when the next morning he wakes up first and observes your sleeping face and relaxed body, he couldn’t feel happier.

Because he doesn’t have to hide anything from you anymore.

Because you love him too.

[luveline]

Hey if you're still taking requests could I get any sort if angst to comfort for zombie au steve? Been feeling down lately and I've always loved that series!

ty for requesting! zombie au. fem, 1.5k

The new pencils are oil-cored, as opposed to his last ones, which had been wax. They were just fine, but these oil pencils allow him to blend colours and shades with more finesse than ever. He can pour twenty different colours into the tone of your skin and have them blend into a real, phototechnical you. 

He’s pretty proud of this one. 

He wakes up first every morning, allowing for time where you’re unaware and he’s got nothing to do. He’s sketched you so many times it comes naturally. Steve probably wouldn’t need to look, but watching you sleep is half the joy of drawing you. 

You're drooling a little. 

Steve puts the handful of pencils he’d been using to colour your neck back into his pen case. He puts the case and his sketchbook on top of his main bag, shoving it into a corner of your tent with the rest of the bags to climb back onto the bed. It’s a portable cushioning made for camping, and it’s nothing like a mattress, but it is much kinder to your backs than sleeping on the ground. Warmer, too. 

He pushes your head back, knowing it will wake you, his thumb to the little drool line to wipe it away, his palm on your cheek to hold it. 

“Hello.” He kisses your other cheek as your lashes twitch. Doesn’t even think about not doing it. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” you mumble strangely. 

“What’s that?” he says, soft to match your quiet. His breath kisses your lips. “What’s wrong? You sound sad.” 

You force your eyes apart, and you feel along the mattress with your hand. Steve watches in real time as your eyes fill with tears, huge, heavy tears that well in the corner of your left and spill from the right to wet the pillow under your head. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, the effort expended to stay calm so gutting he has to squeeze the pillow just shy of your head. 

You grab for him, blankets and your half-open sleeping bag crinkling but not too thick to feel the force of your fingers gripping his sides. 

You must’ve had a bad dream, that’s what he thinks. He’s had enough of them, and he’s unfortunately cried after almost all of them. Sometimes you’ve seen it, sometimes you haven’t, but you look at him with love no matter what —he can forget dreams of losing you when you’re murmuring niceness in his ear, and he can give it back to you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, letting you squeeze him hard. “Don’t cry.” And that’s a little awkward of him, that sneaking panic, but he’s never claimed to be a professional. 

You cry in a weird breath that borders a gag. “I’m so-sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I have bad dreams too. You know that.” 

Steve attempts to get both arms behind your shoulders, pulling you into him, sitting you up. He can’t cope with how quickly you’ve fallen apart. To wake up crying, how scary the dream must’ve been, he hates it. 

“It’s okay,” he says. 

“It was a good dream,” you say. 

Steve frowns. “Okay, so what’s the problem?” 

“We had a house. We had a dog. I don’t– don’t even know if you like cats, but you had a dog, and we,” —you sob between words, not too loudly as to travel far, but aching— “were planning a trip. It felt so real, Steve. You were so happy.” 

Steve tries to process it as fast as he can. “Oh,” he says softly, hand lax where it had been rubbing your shoulder. 

“You were so happy,” you say again, burying the tip of your nose into his neck. You’re practically crawling atop him, but he’s strong enough to stop you from laying him down. 

“It’s okay, honey. Jesus,” he says, patting your back again. “It’s alright. It’s okay.” 

“We’ll never have those things.” 

“Baby, who says so?” he asks in a murmur. 

“We’ll never get to go anywhere together–”

“It feels like we’ve seen pretty much all of America,” he says. He’s joking, but travelling with you from place to place has felt expansive. You’ve seen forests and lakes, a thousand different houses, hundreds of neighbourhoods, and street art and installations and billboards for movies that were never screened. Steve’s seen about as much of the world as he wants to see. “I’d just stay in this tent with you forever if they let us, we don’t need to go anywhere else.” 

“You wanted to see palm trees,” you say, sniffling and pained as your tears warm the curve of his trap. 

“I’ve seen them,” Steve says. “Don’t worry. I’ve already seen palm trees. A whole bunch of them. Don’t worry about what I wanted in the dream, it was just a dream.” 

He gives you a quick kiss, his lips to the very edge of your temple. 

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” 

Steve nods. He draws from you reluctantly and opens the tent, ushering you on knees to sit out in the cool air. He sits next to you, dewdrops from the grass wetting his jeans, the sky a humming of early morning colours; the sun rises in bands of orange and raspberry pink, darkness above, sun rays kissing the sides of tents and the portables in the distance. 

You take deep breaths. Steve holds your hand, the two of you looking up at the strange sky. 

“We’ll never be that happy,” you say. 

Steve can hear your agony, and he knows what you mean. He thinks of that life with you and never lets himself think far. You would've gone to college, maybe, and Steve would’ve drove to visit you —he would’ve moved. Maybe in your second year you’d live together in a suburb just between college and his job, whatever it is he’d ended up doing, in a house you chose, with a ring on your finger. Steve wants kids but if you don’t then perhaps you’d have had none, but he still likes to picture you with your babies, a big family, years later. And maybe he’d have a dog. A silly looking one with bark worse than its bite. 

And you’d be together. You would be happy. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to lose you to. You’d never worry where your next meal was coming from, you’d never feel cold. 

Steve breathes out. Sniffs biting air. “We’ll never be that happy. That kind of happy. We’re never gonna go on trips, maybe we won’t ever have a house, but–“ He pulls your hand toward him, your eyes latching on to his. “But maybe we will. We might not get to watch cable, but we can have a tv, in a living room. We can live together, and maybe we will take trips. I don’t know. I don’t know what we’ll have, but I’m already happy. You don’t have to cry about me being happy.” He shakes his head. “Shit, you shouldn’t. I want that life with you so much I dream about it too, but I have this one.” 

“You think we’ll have a house?” you ask hopefully. 

“We can’t live like this forever.” He’s promising it. “Something has to give.” 

“I want us to have more,” you say. 

A weak confession, your cheeks wet with tears but eyes thankfully drying, your eyelids puffy already from sleep and crying alike. Steve wants you to have everything, even if everything is a stupid thing to think you’ll have. 

“We will.” Steve closes one eye, a sort of prolonged wink of pain as his nose wrinkles. “But this is enough for now, right?” 

“No.” 

You’re kidding, to Steve’s relief. 

He laughs and elbows you, glad to see your smile as you evade poorly. “Say it’s enough!” 

“No way.” 

You don’t wait for him to pull you in or ask if it’s alright, flopping without ceremony into his lap, and then turning toward him to hug his stomach. He looks down at you fondly, hand rubbing up your warm back. You’re still clammy from sleeping, but you’re not crying anymore. 

“It’s really cold out here.” 

“I know.” He blows a warm breath in your ear. “Do you still feel sick? Don’t barf in my lap.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve. It just felt so real.” 

His voice turns to a silky whisper he’s only ever used in love. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. We never would’ve… I’d never get to be here,” —you squeeze him around the waist— “if we were in a world where we also get the house and the dog and… the family…” 

“But it would’ve been nice,” Steve finishes, looking up from your back to watch as the raspberry bands of pink turn to blue. 

“It would’ve been perfect.” 

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Cuddling Firefly. Please

(Honkai: Star Rail) Cuddling with Firefly

Firefly will blush from S/O's request to cuddle, at least at first.

She didn't need much convincing to do so, especially when she feels how warm S/O's arms are, resting her head back on their shoulders while arms snuggly wrapped around her waist.

(Firefly) "A-Ah...!"

(S/O) "Are you okay?"

S/O moves to let go, but they're stopped when Firefly quickly grabs their wrists and lets it stay as is.

(Firefly) "Yes I...I'm just not used to this, is all."

Her smile is slowly getting bigger and bigger, feeling her body start to relax completely. She could feel the stress from her shoulders fade as she adjusted herself to get as close to S/O as possible.

Firefly would generally prefer to be the little spoon, but she has no qualms with letting S/O lay their head on her lap.

Other than the blush that's burning just as hot as her thrusters.

Any chance she gets, Firefly will want to snuggle into S/O in any way, it helps get her mind off darker thoughts, and spending any chance she can with someone she loved was a short-lived blessing.

Everytime they're close to each other, Firefly always giggles and kisses S/O gently on the lips, forehead, or cheek before closing her eyes.

She doesn't need sleep, but Firefly commits every second feeling S/O close to memory.

===

BONUS:

(Firefly) "You...want to cuddle with me in my armor...?"

(S/O) "I just wonder how it would feel."

Firefly opens her mouth to protest, but can't find anything particularly wrong with the request.

She could actively control when the weapons or thrusters are online, so it's not like there was a risk of accidentally hurting S/O.

(Firefly) "Um...S-Sure. Please stand back for a moment.

In the blink of an eye, the armor forms around Firefly in a blazing second, which the helmet turned to S/O and her cute voice rung out from the external comms.

(Firefly) "I'm...ready?"

She sat down on the couch, with it almost threatening to break as she did so, and S/O promptly joined her.

They sat at a very strange angle, almost having to be bridal carried as they sat down and laid their head on her massive shoulders.

(S/O) "..."

(Firefly) "...This can't be comfortable for you."

(S/O) "It's...not."

(Firefly) "Then why are you-?"

(S/O) "I was always just curious to how it felt and now I know."

S/O didn't need to see past the helmet to understand how confused Firefly was right now.

(Firefly) "As long as it makes you happy?"

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic @tf141gloryhole @montenegroisr @princesslikesfanfics @hoelesss

[miley1442111]

needing you- r.cameron

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

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

a/n: saw an edit of him today and decided i had to write something for him. the buzzcut is just too good, i might do a part two if I'm bothered....

summary: rafe makes some awful choices, stemming from his need for you during a hard day.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: hurt/ angst, breaking up, fighting, shouting, mentions of rafe's addictions, mentions of al-anon, mentions of break downs and bad mental health in general, kissing, no happy ending :(

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

Rafe was pissed, rightfully so. He was so angry, and he knew he shouldn’t talk to you, not even be near to you, but he had nowhere else to go. Surely his girlfriend would welcome him with open arms, right?

Wrong.

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

He knocked on the front door of your house, only to be met with the confused face of your father.

“She went out on the water with some friends, she left her phone at home, sorry.”

It’s fine. He would just have to wait to see you. He thanked your father and set on his way to John B’s place, waiting out by the dock for you to come back. He would just have to wait the 4 long hours it took for you to get back to land. See, you were a mix of a kook and a pogue, but most of the time, leaned towards full-pogue. This was something Rafe usually admired, considering you took no shit from him, or anyone else, and you didn’t let anyone put you down for your friends and how you presented yourself. What he hated right now though, was the fact that Jj Maybank’s arm was resting firmly on your shoulder, as you 5 came back from your strenuous day of swimming and leisurely fun. Strike one before Rafe lost his shit. 

“Rafe,” Kiera scoffed. “Y/n, your man-child boyfriend is here!” She shouted back to you. Strike two, before Rafe lost his shit.  You nodded, but made no attempt to come up to him, still entirely engrossed in Jj’s story. You two were best friends, you knew everything about each other- don’t be a jealous asshole Rafe. He reminded himself as he bit his nails, waiting for you to come over. He watched as your face lit up with a beautiful smile as Jj’s story concluded, in a very ridiculous manner. Rafe didn’t make you laugh like that. He couldn’t, he wasn’t funny. He knew he wasn’t funny. Should he try to be more funny? 

Jj pressed a kiss to your cheek and waved you off as you walked over to Rafe. Strike motherfucking three. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. His skin was hot and tanned, more than usual. 

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“4 hours,” he punctuated every syllable. Your face fell, he was pissed, and he was trying to hide it. 

“Did we have a hangout scheduled? I’m so sorry baby,” you apologised immediately, and Rafe almost felt like pretending it wasn’t true, but he just nodded. 

“No, we didn’t,” he swallowed harshly, taking your hand and leading you to his truck.

Your face turned to confusion. “So what’s this about then? Why did you wait for 4 hours?”

“Because I needed to see you,” he explained as tears welled up in his eyes. Rafe Cameron was not a man for emotions in public, even around his most trusted confidants. But he trusted you implicitly and knew you’d never tell a single soul about his emotions, so he showed them around you.

Today, in all honesty, had been awful for him. The second he woke up, rose was screaming at him for something he didn’t do, something about his dirtbike making a mess on the lawn (he hadn’t used his dirtbike in months, not since you said you’d rather walk home than go on it, since it makes you slightly nervous), then he got in a fight with Ward over him ‘not spending enough time working for the company’, which sent him into a spiral, and resisting his urges to just go get high and drunk and forget all about it were even more difficult to manage than usual. 

It was shit. And he needed you. 

You stopped walking and pulled him into you, noticing the wobble in his voice as he spoke. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Nothing is fucking wrong,” he groaned, wiping his face. “Well, apart from the fact that my girlfriend was too busy with her fucking pogue 'boyfriend' to be around today! Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re never there for me?! Or maybe I just fucking hate you!” 

You stood and stared at him in shock. “If you hate me so much, just break up with me,” you sighed, your own tears welling up as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the ground as the moonlight lit this awful moment. 

Every night when you’d sneak out just because Rafe needed you there to talk to and hold him, to be there for him, it all meant nothing. Every time you left your friends, or family, just so you could calm him down because he was having a panic attack, or bad cravings. Every time you pushed him to go to the Al-Anon meeting and picked him up after, then held him as he cried in your arms in the car, whispering about how he ‘didn’t deserve you’. 

Where was that boy now?

He was in front of you, screaming in your face. 

“Maybe I am!” He shouted. “Yeah, we’re done!” 

You wiped a tear away and sighed. “Alright,” walking back to John B’s to be with your friends. 

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

It all hit Rafe the next morning. He had broken up with you. You were out of his life. You weren’t his girlfriend anymore. 

What the fuck had he done?

He dialled your number, only to get no response. He checked your house, John B’s house, your work, your school (even though it was a Saturday), and even decided to check Jj’s house, just in case. 

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

Knock, knock, knock.

Jj opened the door to see a very flustered and surprisingly distraught Rafe. 

“Hello?-” 

“Is she here?” he asked. “Y/n, is she here?”

“Yeah,” Jj shrugged. “But she doesn’t really want any visitors right now, y’know. The girl needs her beauty sleep.”

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

“I need my beauty sleep Rafe,” you chuckled as his hands roamed your body. God, you were so perfect right here. Here, in his bed, his bed sheet draped over you, the sunset spilling in from the window. You were so perfect, so beautiful in that moment. He’d wanted to make it a memory he’d never forget. 

“You’re beautiful all the time,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, just to feel the goosebumps start to form.

“When I get the proper amount of sleep,” you corrected him, humour lacing your words. 

“Nah,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You look beautiful all the time, trust me, I’m an expert.”

“In beauty?”

“In you.”

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

“Please just let me talk to her-”

“No can-do bucko,” Jj smirked. “She’s busy sleeping, don’t want to wake the beast.”

“Jj, I swear to fucking god-”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” you sighed from behind the door. “Jj doesn’t deserve that.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” Jj smiled. Sweetheart. Rafe had always hated that Jj called you sweetheart. 

“Can we talk?” Rafe cleared his throat. 

“Sure.”

And there you were, looking as gorgeous as ever, still in pyjamas, but still flipping his entire world on its head. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jj sighed and pottered off back into the house. 

There was silence for a few minutes. 

“What do you want?” you huffed. 

Rafe didn’t exactly have an answer for that.

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Guys: I'm disappointed in you

G/N. (Jakey, Sammy, Goo, Gun, Vin, Ryuhei, DG, Johan, Vasco)

You're not pissed off. You're much worse, disappointed.

Hands on your hips, finger dangerously close to wagging and lecturing them.

His intimidating presence does nothing to deter how you feel-

Jake's face drops and his eyes fall to the ground.

Whether he thinks he did anything wrong is one thing, but disappointing you is more than enough for him to feel bad.

He bows, bending at the waist a full 90 degrees and then some, and asks for your forgiveness. Face sincere and of utmost seriousness no matter how petty the crime.

Samuel scoffs and leaves. He doesn't need this.

But he tosses and turns that night, daddy and mommy issues playing up. The need for approval and validation from someone he respects gnaws at him, and he doesn't sleep a wink.

The next day he returns to you, bags under his eyes, pretending to be unaffected by your previous disagreement yet trying to get back into your good graces with expensive gifts.

"Disappointed?" Goo echoes, blinking owlishly, as if he couldn't fathom that he could be disappointing to anyone.

He whines and pouts, and is close to throwing a tantrum. Obviously your words having an effect on him.

In the end he does mutter an apology though you doubt the sincerity, especially if the look in his eyes are anything to go by.

Gun ignores you though you see the defiant twitch in his jaw from your words.

He doesn't care, why should he.

Except you catch him staring at you the rest of the day or week or until whenever your ire ebbs away. There's a strange awkwardness to his being, like he doesn't know how he should act around you.

The apology doesn't come if he thinks it's undeserved and unneeded, but he also doesn't want to see that look in your eyes again.

Vin scoffs, pretends he doesn't care. Calls you a nag, a wet blanket, all sorts of frustrating names.

Yet the guilt eats away at him. Your eyes, the playful expression you usually wear is now just replaced with disappointment.

He tries to involve Mary to worm his way back into your good books, she tells him to piss off and eventually he comes to you, tail between his legs and a poorly formed apology (likely as a rap).

Ryuhei's eyes are suspiciously wet. You think he's sniffling, the tip of his nose turned pink and he's trying to keep a brave face but god, he feels like a complete failure.

He drops to his knees and immediately offers to commit seppuku. When you roll your eyes and tell him to stop being ridiculous, he says he will do anything to make this right. That he would rather die than ever disappoint you again.

DG, usually ruled by logic but too often bratty and arrogant, considers whether this is a hill worth dying on. It's not.

Considers whether it warrants an apology, and it does. But does he deliver? Not always. Lets you simmer until he presents you with a grand gesture and a winning K-Pop smile he reserves for award shows.

His charm works on you less than he'd like, but more than you'd prefer.

Johan looks as if he's been slapped, before turning on his heels and leaving.

It takes him a surprisingly short amount of time to come back, feeling contrite. He doesn't say sorry but the unspoken apology runs round and round his mind.

Instead he drifts to your side constantly like a shadow, trying to catch your eye, seek out some of your warmth and hoping for your forgiveness.

Regardless of what it is you're disappointed with, Vasco Tabasco thinks you are the best. A literal angel descended to Earth that has graced his life.

So if you're disappointed then whatever he is doing must be wrong and is worth apologising for.

He does just that. Offers to make up for it however you see fit. Completely heartfelt even if he doesn't know entirely why.

[pulisicsgirl]

in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

*

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

tag list:

@hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[atrologynuances]

Astrology observations pt2 || Planets in their detriment

NOTE: the interpretation of these are solely on the planets. harmonious/inharmonious aspects can change the translation of these planets.

these are based on personal observations as well as acquired knowledge from books, websites, and other observation posts.

𓋼𓍊 Aries/Scorpio Venus- may struggle maintaining a harmonious relationship which can lead to them changing their relationships quite often. aries venuses might posses an either fiery or more grounded energy thanks to the cardinal energy. scorpios on the other hand might be emotionally reserved, and only truly love very few people around them if any, the rest they keep around depending on what they can access from them (very manipulative). Given their possible relationship insecurities these two venus signs will seek for someone going at the same pace and someone with the same mindset, which realistically is hard to find. when they do think they’ve found it, they might later find out they were in fact wrong. When they do get in a relationship they might become possessive as a result of possible insecurities.

𓋼𓍊 Taurus/Libra Mars- these natives might need extreme motivation to get things going, like a 9-5 they don’t like, but the security and responsibility of it keeps them on their toes. these mars signs could also lack sense of security in their actions, which could leave them wondering whether they were right or wrong and as a result they might not fight for themselves as hard as they should. it is important for them to have a big support system that reassures and validates their actions when conflicts arise.

𓋼𓍊 Gemini/Virgo Jupiter- these natives have a hard time seeing beyond logic explanation, they could experience something and until they don’t find logic behind it they won’t be satisfied. get fixated on many things but never seems to finish or find a final answer to any of them. is not that they’re unable to finish them, they’re just no longer interested to. closed minded towards otherworldly subjects, or tries very hard to understand it.

𓋼𓍊 Cancer/Leo Saturn- these natives lack discipline but want it. they might vent to you that they do not like their current monetary situation and are looking to make some changes in that aspect of their life, but the next day you see them spending all their money on clothes. they know this is wrong but will still do it. they may be prone to control people and situations because they think they know what’s best for everyone. however, they do not like people telling them what to do lol. they might be prone to burnouts easily and immune system problems.

𓋼𓍊 Sagittarius/Pisces Mercury- struggles to find something that feels “right” for them, when they do find it they mostly have to work harder than everybody else to catch up. problems with communication; either started talking late or have problems expressing themselves as they get older. prone to saying things that don’t make sense upfront which will make them have to explain themselves often. this might create insecurities that will lead them to express themselves less. this is the reason why I think so many great writers have these placements, they can just erase and reword their writing without being judged for it.

- fyodor dostoevsky, jane austen, james joyce, victor hugo, emily dickinson

𓋼𓍊 Capricorn Moon- find it difficult to be vulnerable, this translates to needing or wanting material security to make sure they won’t need anyone. do not like to rely on anyone for emotional/financial support even if they really need it. despite all this, they are very emotional. the difference between them and their sister sign cancer is that they are not expressive with their emotions or act on them. something I have noticed is that they are not as workaholics as people might expect them to be, however when they work, they splurge on the money they make or might be stingy with it, as either one of these actions brings security to them. most of the times they don’t feel loved by either one of their parents even if they’ve both always been present in their lives.

𓋼𓍊 Aquarius Sun- natives are hard to describe for me because I have not met many of them, I feel like most hideaway at home lol. one thing i’ve noticed is that they cry a lot and are unapologetic about it. these people shine bright like their sister sign leo, the difference is they don’t want to so they avoid situations where they have to or when they are put in these situations they have to make sure their presentation is flawless. however in day to day life they do not really care how they’re perceived. they’re the ones that go to school in pijama pants. they also oftentimes seek some form of validation with other people, which is why they change partners often. very physically beautiful, but doesn’t seem to know or act on it.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope y’all have a wonderful day.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request Cregan Stark x female!reader where reader is sleeping in her chambers and has a nightmare and walks the halls late at night going to Cregan’s chambers for comfort but is also hesitant because the two haven’t really spent time together since they were put into an arranged marriage. She stands in front of his bedroom door while trying to decide if she should knock or not but before she could Cregan opens the door after hearing movement. He spends the night trying to make her feel safe. Thank you 😊

I’m rusty and out of practice after not writing for hotd for so long but I hope this makes up for it 🦦🐿️

You couldn’t go back to sleep, the nightmare had awoken you so suddenly and violently that the idea of falling back to sleep disturbed you greatly, so instead you took to walking the foreign halls of your new home in Winterfell.

In truth it took some time for you to get accustomed to the change in climate, that and the change from your old rather relaxed and light attire to thick furs and multiple layers to keep warm, but you were reassured by your parents that you’d sooner or later come to love the endless landscapes of snow with your arrange marriage to Lord Cregan Stark.

Now Cregan Stark had been nothing but considerate and generous towards you, a honourable man amongst immature little boys as your father would put it, and his words have never been more true as house Stark was well known for their loyalty and their dedication to their duty. However it was due to Cregan’s commitment to his duty that left you with little to no time to get to know the man who had already garnered quite the reputation for himself. You did not blame the man for doing so, it was admirable to see a man do whatever it took to protect his home compared to those who dared called themselves men back home; the very same ‘men’ who’d abandon their wives and children for a silver of something…younger and more beautiful.

And yet you found yourself coming out of a self induced daze and stood outside of Cregan’s own personal chambers, almost as if your body had stopped it’s ceaseless wandering and brought you to the one person who could bring you comfort on its own accord, but yet you failed to find the strength to even lift a hand to knock on the heavy door as new thoughts of whether you’d be interrupting or annoying him with your presence; This was the only time where you wished you spent more time getting to know Cregan as you didn’t know the type of man he’d be when you needed him for moments such as these, moments where you’d be frightened and out of your mind with increasing worry, even over the smallest of things.

Would you be a burden to him? Too much for him? Would your actions tonight alone would bring about the end of the arrangement? All these answers so much more ran rampant within your head as you began to second guess whether or not this was your smartest of decisions, going and seeking comfort from a man you knew far too little about on a personal level over something as simple as a nightmare, you’ve contemplated this for quite a while to the point you felt stupid and childish that you didn’t notice the noise you had made already brought Cregan out of his slumber.

‘Are you alright m’lady?’ Cregan asks upon noticing how conflicted you looked as you shifted your weight on your feet and fiddling with your hands.

‘My lord,’ you gasped, ‘what’s you doing up at such time as this?’

Cregan tilted his head. ‘Well I heard shuffling outside my door and I came to see what it was, only to find you in deep thought.’ He then reached out to grasp your hand in his securely as his eyes softened. ‘Is there something the matter? Something wrong?’ He then asks in a whisper. ‘Anything I can do to help my betrothed rest easier?’

You tried to smile as authentically as you could in hopes of dissuading Cregan from going out of his way for you and let out a laugh. ‘There’s no need, I just…needed some air and familiarise my new home.’ You told him but it was obvious that he wasn’t buying it as Cregan looked down the hallway before pulling you into his chambers and closing the door behind him. ‘Now that there is no possibility for anyone to intrude, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you m’lady?’

‘I-‘ you tried to speak but found yourself falling short of an easily believable answer, especially not when his eyes seemingly read you like an open book.

‘There is no need to keep up appearances, not with me,’ Cregan says as he gently guides you to a nearby chair, still holding your hand, as though deep down he knew that you needed to be in some form of constant contact with him to bring yourself back to reality. ‘Now tell me what’s gotten you so distraught?’ He knew something was wrong but didn’t know how to handle the situation without you telling him what it was that was disturbing you. Now Cregan understood that you might not be on that level of comfortability with him just yet to open up about your innermost thoughts and feelings, he can just hope that him being here with you was proof enough to show that he deeply cared for your well-being, and that with time you’ll come to him freely and without fear that he’d cast you and your heart aside.

You didn’t say anything at first, still having your concerns on how he’d react once you tell him, but the other side of your mind was telling you to take this an an opportunity to make up for the lack of time to get to know each other, so you opened your mouth and the words that you’ve been trying to put a stop poured out seamlessly. ‘I had a nightmare and I thought that a walk would help but it seems as though at the thought of you, my feet brought me to your chambers on their own accord.’

Cregan smiled softly as he squeezed your hand, running his thumb across it. ‘Is that so m’ lady? You thought of me in your moment of need?’

‘Of course,’ you tell him, finally squeezing his hand back, feeling yourself growing more confident and secure within his presence, ‘It was as though deep down I knew you’d never scoff at my worries, and instead bring me comfort as though it were instinct, but my mind tried to trick me into believing that you wouldn’t and I would’ve believed them had you not answer the door when you did.’ You admitted and felt a weight come off of your shoulders, allowing you to fully relax within Cregan’s presence that felt akin to the comforting weight of furs being draped over your shoulders, comforting, warm and grounding.

‘And I never would scoff at your worries because your worries are my worries m’lady.’ Cregan tells you as he knelt before you, resting his free hand against your cheek, watching as you melted into his touch, sighing in content. ‘Now tell me how I can be of help to you be rid of this pain?’ He then asks softly as though speaking any louder would somehow offend you.

‘Pardon me if this seems too forward my lord but,’ you paused to take in Cregan’s handsome features before looking down at your intertwined hands, this was the union that your parents wanted for you and now that you were here with him, you didn’t want to leave for your lonely chambers, ‘would you allow for me to stay here for the night, held in your arms until the nightmare is a memory long forgotten.’ You finished, looking into his eyes as they gleamed with happiness and love.

‘Only if you are comfortable with that m’lady.’ Cregan said and you couldn’t help but chuckle as his thoughtfulness towards you, the same thoughtfulness that suggested sleeping in separate rooms until you felt comfortable enough to share a room with him.

‘Of course I do,’ you tell him with a real genuine smile, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as you squeezed his hand, ‘I wouldn’t have suggest it if I didn’t.’ You added and without hesitation Cregan brought you into his strong arms as he carried you off towards his bed, laying you down gently as he join you before pull in you back into his arms again, softly guiding your head into resting against his chest.

Cregan turned out to be a lot warmer than you had originally expected but you couldn’t help but snuggle further against him, making him smile and press a featherlight kiss to your head as he tightened his hold on you. ‘I promise to keep your nightmares at bay as you deserve only the sweetest and kindest of dreams to greet you at the end of every day.’ He promises to you as he pressed another kiss to your head, making you smile widely as you couldn’t help but feel as though you were already living within a dream with how impossibly perfect Cregan was.

‘I feel as though I am in one already my lord.’ You tell him sleepily.

‘Then I shall try my best to make you keep thinking that m’lady.’ Cregan replied as you soon feel asleep against the man who had quickly claimed your heart.

[formulawolff]

just how things come together, they fall apart - d.r.

pairing: female driver!reader x red bull!daniel ricciardo

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cursing, angst, unresolved romantic and sexual tension, a falling out of a friendship, some banter, the other drivers being little shits (especially kimi), allusions to smut, light alcohol use, "it was always you" trope, yadayadayada

a/n: this is my first time for our ol' boy danny ric! i hope i did a good job with this one! <3 i always love writing angst!

song inspo: friends by chase atlantic

"so this is it?"

"i mean," he won't even look at you, his eyes fixated on the floor, his head dipped low, "i guess so."

your lower lip trembles, fiery, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes, "i don't even know what the fuck i did wrong. i haven't done shit to you and here you are, kicking my ass to the curb."

"oh come on," he groans, bringing a hand to his temple, "you can't even be that upset with me. it's nothing personal. i just need to distance myself from you for a while. maybe forever. i don't know. i just know that i need to do this."

"i would be okay with it if i did something to make you upset with me or hate me," you wipe a tear, careful to not let him see you like this, "but i thought we were good. i guess not."

daniel grimaces, "like i said, it's nothing personal or against you. i think it's best if we're no longer friends."

"right," you nod, sucking in a sharp breath, "got it."

"i'm sorry-" he begins, but you stick up a hand, swiftly interrupting.

"don't even start with that bullshit. don't act like you're sorry just because you feel guilty."

"fine," he exhales, throwing his hands up in the air, "fine! i won't be sorry."

"see you around," you mutter, shaking your head, the tears streaming now, caking your heated cheeks.

storming out of the garage, you keep your head low, the other drivers mingling about, their voices hushed. yet, as they notice you, their attention shifts. sebastian makes his way towards you, concern plastered across his features.

"hey!" he calls, "what the fuck just happened?"

"ask daniel about it," your voice is shaky, "just fucking ask daniel about it."

"hey," arms envelop your frame, bringing you in close, "you can talk about it if you want."

"trouble in paradise?" a voice rumbles.

kimi.

"kimi," sebastian hisses, placing kisses along the crown of your head, "did you guys just fight?"

well, it more than just a little spat.

merely minutes ago, daniel announced that he was no longer interested in a friendship with you. a friendship that had blossomed and developed over the course of two years was gone in an instant, with no explanation why.

your heart felt like it was being torn into shreds, your breathing labored as you sobbed into sebastian's chest, the driver rubbing your back, his chin resting on top of your head.

"did something happen?" another voice cuts in, crisp with that oh so familiar accent.

lewis.

"i think they got into a pretty heated argument," sebastian murmurs, "he's kind of a piece of shit for doing that right before a race."

"what a dickhead," lewis whistles, "do you know what it was about?"

"no idea," sebastian shrugs, still clinging onto you, "she hasn't said much since she left the garage. just told me to ask daniel about it."

"hey," lewis places a tender hand on your shoulder, "you don't need that loser anyway. you have us. we'll be your besties."

"now is not the time," you grumble, "can we just get this fucking race over with?"

"only if you dust his ass," lewis pries you away from sebastian, wrapping you up in his own embrace. he squeezes you gently, "if you manage to get on the podium, will you please fill us in after?"

"so nosy," a giggle manages to bubble up in your throat, "nosy, nosy, lewis. always wanting the gossip."

"you know me," a chuckle vibrates in his chest, "i do love a good gossip session."

thank god for sebastian and lewis. and well, kimi was there too.

as one of the few female drivers in formula one, you were thrust into the oh so competitive world of racing around the 2016 season, right at the time max verstappen started his career. although it was your lifelong dream to drive for red bull, you were offered a seat at mclaren due to jenson button's announcement that he was retiring.

since it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, you decided to take it, accepting the contract offer.

not many women competed in formula one, and you were determined to make the world know your name.

that burning desire to win and your outspoken nature is what initially drew daniel ricciardo in, the red bull driver approaching you one night after qualifying in sochi. he struck up a simple conversation, complimenting your lap and your ability to navigate the track despite some unfavorable weather conditions.

from that moment, the two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip. if you weren't in the red bull paddock between races, he was at mclaren, the team principals grumbling to one another at your tight-knit friendship.

there were tons of sleepless nights where the two of you would lie awake, bodies snuggled together, rambling about everything and anything that came to mind. after the first grand prix where you scored points in 2016, daniel was right there after the race, hugging onto you so tightly, lifting you up in the air and spinning you around.

there were plenty of hungover mornings where he would hold your hair for you as you threw up in the toilet, rubbing your back, encouraging you to let it all out. there were nights where he would need your affection, begging you to come over to his motorhome so that he could fall asleep on your chest, your hand tangled in his curly locks as he dozed off.

sure, there were moments in which it was a little more than just a friendship.

there was the unforgettable night in azerbaijan, where daniel won. that night, you found yourself completely intertwined with the australian driver, skin on skin, his mouth roaming every inch of your body.

that was the first night daniel told you he loved you.

and there was something more than just a platonic sort of love in those words.

something along the lines of romantic love.

the kind where his presence sent your heart fluttering, bliss rippling in your chest the moment he flashed you that beautiful smile, dimples and all.

the kind of love where the moment his eyes met yours, you found yourself spiraling, completely and utterly speechless at the sight of his gorgeous mocha-hued gaze.

the kind of love where his touch sent a shiver down your spine, every movement electric.

there was no denying the feelings you harbored for the red bull driver.

you were in love with him.

completely and hopelessly in love.

and there was no going back, not since that night in azerbaijan.

you were in deep. probably way too deep for a friendship.

there was that minuscule hope that you clung onto nearly every second of every day. the inkling that maybe, just maybe daniel felt the same way.

after all, he had told you he loved you.

more than once.

surely that meant something, right?

the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, often clouding over like an intense fog. the other drivers on the grid noticed it. your team principals were aware of it. fuck, even the media speculated the two of you were involved romantically, that you had more than just a friendly "buddy-buddy" relationship.

friends didn't fuck, right?

friends didn't snuggle together every night, drifting off together, right?

friends didn't share longing glances in the paddocks, right?

"hmmph," kimi's lip curls in disgust, "look over at the red bull garage."

your head swivels to your right, the blood roaring in your ears as you spot what kimi was referring to.

out of the garage comes daniel, greeting a slim, lithe blonde. he pulls her in for a lengthy embrace, peppering her face with chaste kisses. your palms calm up, your heart thumping against your rib-cage.

daniel's attention hones in on the four of you, the aussie waving a hand over.

"hey guys! come meet my girlfriend, anastasia!"

"you. have. got. to. be. shitting. me," sebastian's eyes widen, his lips parted.

"yeah," lewis runs his tongue along his teeth, placing his hands on his hips, "i'm not participating in any of that fuckery."

yet, you're silent, the tears threatening to spill over once again, your hands trembling.

how the fuck were you expected to race when your entire world was just flipped upside down?

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

all around you, the space is swathed by darkness.

you're buried beneath your blankets, swiping through your camera roll, pressing that fateful icon in the bottom right corner.

dried tears plastered your cheeks, your hair an unkempt mess, sweats clinging to your frame. inside your chest, your heart ached, the pain consuming you whole.

there's nothing but silence, the dull whir of fans merely white noise.

a sharp noise rattles through your motorhome.

the sound of a knock.

three of them, actually.

groaning, you untangle yourself from the blankets, shuffling down the hall to the main room. once you approach the door, you stifle a yawn, swinging it open.

there stands daniel, his hands shoved in his pockets, shifting uneasily.

"hey."

"shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" there's a venom laced in your tone, oozing with a bitterness as you begin to close the door.

yet, daniel stops you, quickly wedging his foot in, "let me in."

"why should i?" you retort, brows furrowing, "you literally ended our friendship hours ago and now you want inside my home? fuck that. i'm not going to be some little side piece to fill your cravings while your little girlfriend is away. i'm worth more than that."

"can you just let me in for fuck's sakes?" he lets out an exasperated sigh, "i just wanted to make sure you were okay. jesus fucking christ. am i not allowed to do that?"

"i don't know," you shrug, "did you girlfriend give you permission to come by?"

"is that what you're all upset about?"

"no!" you retaliate, "i'm fucking upset because you never mentioned her until now! you never once said to me, 'hey, i'm dating this girl named anastasia. she's pretty neat! how about you meet her sometime?' fuck, daniel. you know i'm in love with you for fuck's sakes. you should know how much this fucking hurts me!"

as you finish, your knees buckle, wails rising in your throat. daniel swallows a lump in his throat, taking a step forward.

"why do you think i ended our friendship today? i couldn't bear the thought of you having to see me with her."

"you told me you loved me," you sob, shoulders shaking, "you fucking tell me you love me all of the time. i thought that-"

that's when his arms nearly crush you, squeezing you against his chest. he holds you for a moment, murmuring words you can't quite decipher.

"i'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry."

"i don't know if that's going to fix everything," you mumble, sniffling, "apparently to you, words only mean so much."

"i thought that pushing you away would fix everything. that it would make my life easier. that i wouldn't have to worry about hurting anyone in the long run. i know i was wrong for that, and i'm so sorry."

his hand glides along your back, going in soothing, slow circular motions. you can't help but nuzzle into the fabric of his crewneck, inhaling his oh so familiar cologne.

as much as your head was screaming at you to push him out of your doorway, to tell him to leave and never come back, your heart yearned.

it yearned for him. his touch. his presence. the sound of his voice.

it craved him, fluttering as his mouth connects with your temple, pressing tender kisses down to your cheekbone.

"obviously i can't stay away," his voice is barely audible, "you just do something to me."

"and what's that?" you tilt your head upward, meeting his gaze.

"you make me weak. i only pushed you away because i thought that was the solution to the way i felt. if you were out of the picture, i wouldn't end up getting hurt. now look at both of us, nearly in tears and utterly heartbroken."

his fingers caress your cheek, tracing along your cheekbone as your lashes flutter, savoring the touch, "why didn't you just talk to me first about things? why did you think that getting a new girlfriend was the answer?"

"you know how i am about expressing how i feel. and i don't know, i thought it would fix temporarily fix things."

"i think it ended up fucking you over even more than you thought," you brush a curl out of his face, careful to not let him too close.

"you're right, per usual. what do you want me to do then? break up with her?"

"well you love me," you counter, pursing your lips, "don't deny it either, daniel. we both know you do."

he leans in, the corners of his lips curling into a giddy grin, "i wasn't saying i didn't love you."

"if you loved me you'd end things with her."

"if i did that, you would have to promise me one thing," his mouth hovers above yours, the tension accumulating by the second.

"and that is?" you arch a brow.

"you would never let sebastian hug you like that ever again."

"oh? did that get you a little riled up all the way over in the garage?"

daniel rolls his eyes, scoffing, "how did you think it was going to make me feel?"

"okay fine," you tut, pressing a finger to his lips, "i'm not going to kiss you until you end things with anastasia. get that phone out of your pocket right now and call her. let her down gently, though. she seemed sweet."

"surely not as sweet as you though," he teases, yet fumbles with his pocket, fishing out his phone.

as he steps away for a moment, bringing the phone to his ear, you tap your foot against the concrete, pointing to your wrist. daniel shakes his head, putting a finger up as if to say, one more second.

the call doesn't even last two minutes, the austrailian making his way back to you.

before you know it, his mouth is on yours, an open-mouthed kiss brimmed with a needy passion. your head rolls back, granting him more access and his hands grip your waist, one sliding further and further down as the kisses intensify, cupping the curve of your ass.

he pulls away, breathless.

"i love you. i love you. i love you. it's always been you, and it's always going to be you. i'm sorry i'm such a dumbass and can't navigate my feelings."

"you know you can talk to me about things, right?" you suppress a giggle, "you don't have to ruin a friendship over it."

"well i didn't quite ruin it," he leans in once more.

"oh yeah? how do you know that?"

"because you're still in love with me. and you're going to be my girlfriend in no time."

[queerweewoo]

“Shit.”

Eddie mutters the curse under his breath when he can't seem to release the clasp on his St. Christopher chain. 

He's plopping down onto his sofa after arriving home from dropping off his fourteen-year-old budding socialite at a friend's house, having kicked off his boots and hooking an arm around Buck's still-crossed-at-the-ankle legs and getting comfy with them now resting over his lap—well, his lap and the arm of the sofa because Buck has the longest pair of pins in the whole damn world.

“Nope, I'm afraid shit can't possibly be the answer to seven down, Eddie, because even though it starts with an ‘S’, and the third letter is definitely an ‘I’, twelve across has got to be skating, which would make the second letter a ‘K’,” Buck says with mock-seriousness as Eddie is still attempting to take off his chain. “And anyways, I don't really think the answer to the clue ‘Dermis’ could legitimately be shit, not by any stretch of the imagination; ‘Dermis’ sounds too… I dunno. Scientific? Medical?”

Eddie snorts his amusement at Buck, and Buck grins back at him with that particular twinkle in his eye that Eddie has come to think of as belonging to him. He really tries his best not to be possessive over his best friend, knows he has no right to anything like that, but Eddie can't help being in love with Buck, no matter how much he wishes he wasn't. 

Eddie's been fighting his desires his entire life, regardless of the fact he knows there isn't a damn thing wrong with being gay. But growing up in Texas? With a family as traditional as his own? It means Eddie hasn't ever felt entitled to getting the things he wants in life. 

Buck must notice Eddie struggling, then, because he immediately drops the pen and crossword puzzle book Eddie picked up for him yesterday at the newspaper stand near the firehouse, and is now swinging his legs off the sofa so he can scooch further up to Eddie, until he's almost on top of Eddie, saying, “Here, let me get that for you, Eds.”

Eddie freezes. He knows he should shoo Buck away like he's supposed to, do the right thing, but ever since Buck started dating Tommy—and ever since Buck broke up with Tommy—Eddie's been pretty bad at being well-behaved around Buck. 

Buck doesn't exactly make things easy, though. Never has, truth be told. He's always been a really tactile kind of guy, and right now his tactile nature is trying to murder Eddie—dead, dead, dead. 

“Lemme just…” Buck's tongue is poking out of his mouth and resting against his bottom lip in concentration—and Eddie knows he should look away but can't—and then he's leaning right into Eddie's space, like he goddamn belongs there and, oh god, Eddie can't take this. He can't. He can't fucking breathe let alone act like this isn't bothering him; isn't turning him on like he's a teenager again; isn't everything he wants and has dreamed of. “Eds, just… lean forward a little would you, so I can—a little bit more, man, c'mon, don't be shy, I just need to…”

Buck really is on top of Eddie now, big arms wrapped around Eddie's head, musky cologne in Eddie's nostrils and warm breath in the shell of Eddie's super-sensitive ear and fuck, he's practically straddling Eddie now, right thigh pushed up against Eddie's junk, oh hell, and Eddie is panting softly and only about two seconds away from moaning his best friend's name like the pathetic hot mess that he is, jesus fucking christ. 

“Got it,” Buck mutters, and just as he goes to lean back, Eddie hears his internal monologue say: Yeah, I've got it real bad…  

And then something just snaps inside of his brain before it's shutting down completely and his heart is in his throat as he finds himself whispering, “Fuck it,” while he grabs onto both of Bucks biceps with purpose because he's terrified that if he doesn't, they might leave him forever. 

“Wait,” he says. Pleads. 

Buck's right thigh is snug against Eddie's left one, the other still in Eddie's lap, his gorgeous face right fucking next to Eddie's, so close Eddie can almost feel Buck's stubble. 

“Eds?” Buck whispers, and his breath is mingling with Eddie's and Eddie hasn't prayed for a long, long time, but he's praying now; praying that he's not about to fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to him; praying for redemption; praying that Buck might want Eddie even just a fraction of the amount Eddie wants Buck. 

His voice breaks when he says the only thing he can. “Don't go.”

Eddie wants this so, so badly, just this one thing, and he's willing to beg if he has to—swears he'll never ask for anything again as long as he fucking lives. 

“I'm not, Eds, I'm…” Buck trails off, frowning a little. He swallows audibly and licks at those sinful lips that are right fucking there and then says, “What, um—w-what exactly do you mean by that, Eddie?” 

Eddie's heart is thumping so hard against his ribcage it feels as if it's going to burst right out of his chest, and Buck has to be able to feel it too because his chest is pressed firmly against Eddie's, and Eddie can't believe he's doing this and seriously might just pass the fuck out any minute now. 

“I don't…” Eddie shakes his head. 

Fuck.

Is he really doing this?

“You don't know? Or you don't want me to go, like, as in go home?” Buck's asking. “Or do you mean, like, go, uh, g-go away from—from right here?” Buck swallows again and Eddie has never wanted anything more than to lick a long stripe up that prominent Adam's Apple of Buck's. “Do you mean don't go from this, Eds? From… from you.” and that last part doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like Buck gets it, and like he isn't horrified by the idea or amused by it or is pitying or mocking Eddie. 

It actually sounds like Buck might just want Eddie, too. 

Eddie screws his eyes shut, and all he can manage to say is, “Yeah, Buck. The last one.”

Buck is then slowly, gently, sliding his cheek up and down Eddie's, and Eddie finally knows exactly how that stubble feels to be dragging against his own and there is no fucking way on Earth he could hold in the almost sob-like breath that leaves his lips as Buck's line themself up with Eddie's trembling mouth.

He's gripping Buck's arms so tightly he's scared he might leave bruises there but can feel Buck smiling as he says, “Can I, Eddie? Please?”

Is this really happening? 

“Fuck yes,” Eddie urges, and then Buck is kissing him; slowly; gently, and with so much of something that feels like it could be love that Eddie wants to cry. 

Then Buck's pulling away, yet not really away because it's just enough to let Eddie swallow the lump in his throat and try to catch his breath—only he doesn't quite manage to catch the tear that escapes the corner of his left eye, but somehow it's okay because Buck kisses that, too, and Eddie finds himself letting it all go, then, and smiling back at the man he's been in love with for almost six years as he cries, because he can finally feel all the colours of the rainbow on his face. 

“Eddie, you have no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Buck chuckles, and Eddie leans up to press his lips against Buck's birthmark, smiling like a fool through his tears.

Buck puts his arms fully around Eddie's shoulders and hugs him, until Eddie feels settled enough to look at him without welling up again.

“Skin,” Buck says then, bringing his hands to Eddie's face and holding it, brushing thumbpads along Eddie's cheeks and drying his tears, because he can. Eddie squints in slight confusion at the word, before Buck's revealing the meaning behind it, telling him, “Seven down, Eds, it just came to me: It was the word skin. Yours is—man, it's even smoother than I'd imagined. So beautiful. You're beautiful.” 

“God, I fucking love you, Buck,” Eddie blurts, because he can't help it. “I'm—I'm in love with you, Evan. And I'm just—I am so, so sorry it's taken me so long to tell you that, taken me so long to get my shit together and pull my head out of my—” 

“Beautiful, insanely perfect ass,” Buck laughs, and then he's kissing Eddie again, like they've been doing this forever, and Eddie's laughing, too.

“Stay,” Eddie begs between kisses. “Stay forever, Buck.”

Buck looks at Eddie like a man in love and says, “I'm in love with you too, Eds. So, yeah, sure, I can do forever,” he promises. 

And it's a promise he keeps.

.

happy pride to my beautiful firefam 🌈

(unedited pls forgive me!)

[lessi-lover]

sickness strikes onces more II c.foord x k.mccabe

summary: you wake up sick this morning but you get taken care of ★ sickness strikes once more II k.mccabe x c.foord

you hadn't woken up feeling well this morning. it was something you couldn't quite figure out, but you could feel your face burning and your body ache from head to toe as you sat up in bed.

you tried to convince yourself that you were fine, mam says to mummy all the time that she is not feeling good and that her legs are sore, so why would are you any different? in fact you're exactly like your mam so why should you get an off day? mam never has an off day.

the night before you had felt your tummy begin to become a little sore, but you shrugged it off as something you maybe didn't like that you ate, although when you felt the ache spread to your head you decided that you might have been a little dehydrated.

your mothers probably should have seen the tell tale signs that you were coming up with a little bug the previous night, but the two of them were so engrossed in preparing for the upcoming match that they had missed the way you pushed your dinner plate away in pain, or the absence of you trying to convince them to let you go to bed later.

you groaned when you heard the birds outside chirp obnoxiously, it was unlike any other day because usually you would jump out of bed to watch them out the window, but you couldn't bring yourself to even cover your ears this morning.

"cheeky? are you feeling alright?" your mummy asked you, eyeing you suspiciously as you hadn't even noticed her enter your bedroom, only looking up when you felt her hand rest against your quickly fevering forehead.

"hot." you mumbled and caitlin would have missed it if she wasn't looking at you so worriedly. "oh cheeky." she frowned, brushing the loose strands of sweaty hair out of your face. you see the troubled look replace your mam's bright smile when she approaches you.

"what's wrong baby girl? you feeling okay?" her finger swiping away a few tears that you hadn't even noticed slide down your usually happy face. your head was pounding, your face felt hot and sticky, and you could feel the sweat connecting uncomfortably from your pyjamas to your skin.

"cheeky your foreheads burning up." katie says as she peels off your winter socks and pulls up your pyjama pants. your boiling up so fast that somehow your top has ridden up, your stomach heating up and turning a warm peach colour.

caitlin and katie share a look over your quickly heating up body. you had only been to preschool three days this week, but it's winter now and they pawn it off as a bug you had caught from another kid in your class that probably went in with small symptoms their parents hadn't worried too much about.

you're pretty out of it, and you’re not entirely sure what’s happening around you. the room feels like it’s spinning slightly, and the presence of your mother's hands swiping the small layer of sweat off your forehead is the only thing grounding you.

the cool air against your feverish skin only providing a brief moment of relief from the hot flush running up your spine.

by now you've settled down from the hyper aware child you were when your mumma came in to get you for preschool and you're content enough to let katie feed you the medicine she had run downstairs to retrieve.

"here, this should be a bit cooler cait."

she says, offering a small smile that doesn't quite reach her worried eyes. she hands the top to caitlin who nods as she helps you sit up and carefully peels off your top, replacing it with a lighter singlet she had gotten from the cupboard. it feels like her nature to take care of all your needs when she knows you aren't feeling well, but she can't help but worry because you rarely ever get ill.

your mam is already back in her bathroom, getting more medicine that she would be strictly giving to you at every hour, waiting for a small sneeze from your little body to drop everything and nurse you back to health.

"how about some water, sweetheart?" your mumma asks, already reaching for the glass on your bedside table. you nod weakly, and she helps you take a few small sips, the cool liquid soothing your dry hoarse throat.

katie sits down on the bed beside you, her hand resting on your arm, gently rubbing small circles into the flushed skin. "we should have noticed sooner," she murmurs, more to herself than to anyone else because your still distracted by the tickle in your throat. "i'm sorry, baby girl."

you lean into her hand, seeking comfort of having your skin on hers. "it's okay, mam," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "i should have told you sooner i wasn't feeling good."

as you settle back against your pillows, your mothers fussing around you, you can feel the ache in your body starting to subside just a bit. the care they're showering you with makes you feel a little better, even though you’re still feeling quite miserable.

you manage a small smile, feeling grateful for how your mothers have taken care of you, even when they have training which they haven't yet called in to miss yet. "thank you," you whisper, your voice a little stronger now.

caitlin leans down and kisses your forehead, her smile warm and relieved. "anything for you, cheeky. always.