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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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stariikis · 3 months

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a cruel summer with you...

synopsis ; you have always hated riki. he doesn't care about his grades and is only ever good at sports and dance. so why is it that he's gotten into the top class of the level? and why do you, for some reason, take an interest in him?

pairing ; sporty!nishimura riki x academic!reader genre ; one-sided rivalry to lovers, fluff, getting together, oneshot wc ; 2458 warnings ; light kissing

cruel summer, taylor swift

Every time you see the damned silhouette of Nishimura Riki down the hallway, adjacent to the grand doorway to the top class in the level, you start to physically convulse. There’s no end to the numerous ways he gets on your nerves. Maybe it’s the sly remarks he likes to make when he sees you stressing out over your grades. It could very well be the way he saunters into your classroom as if he’s one of the top students too.

But no, all he has is being the well-known, all-rounded president of the dance club. His grades were decent enough for him to slip his way into the top class, and you have had a one-sided hatred towards him ever since.

He parades around as if he’s the most popular boy in the whole school (he probably is), and every day without fail he’ll show up with a new racket, ball or the equipment of whatever his newest obsession is. However, what blows you off the most is the fact that, as your seatmate, he and his friends like to disturb you when you’re just trying to study.

You would be pouring over your Biology textbooks, desperately trying to cram all sorts of structures into your head, and Riki would bring over his basketball friends. Jake and Heeseung, still in their dirt-scarred, rumpled jerseys, would tease you for just the hope of getting a perfect score for it.

You could be buried deep in your self-made notes, trying to make sense of equations and funny symbols. Riki would stop Sunghoon on his way back to his seat, figure skates slung over his back before the famous skater’s practice. They would proceed to talk loudly about their plans for the next day. And all you could ever do would be to get out of your seat and leave. Of course, Riki never spared you a look as you left. Or that’s what you thought.

Yang Jungwon and Kim Sunoo are two of Riki’s more bearable friends. They’re sweet and are close to some of your friends as well. But when they look over and shoot you glances that seem to have hidden messages you can’t decipher… you can only squirm uncomfortably.

“Riki! Pay attention,” you scolded him one day before the Maths exam, pushing the textbook closer to him. He wouldn’t stop teasing you with insensitive jokes. Part of you wanted to storm up to your head teacher and beg for a seating plan change, but the other part of you was used to his insufferable antics. You just bore with the pain and tried to explain one more time.

It was enough that you were spending precious time trying to tutor this hopeless boy, who could barely differentiate right from left if you asked him on the spot. But you also had to put up with everything you hated about him slowly turning into things that made you more than okay with his presence hovering over you like a guardian angel.

The burning sensation of his eyes flickering upwards to look at you as you searched for the words to explain why 5x squared should be brought over to the other side of the equation. The oddly attractive way he clicked and unclicked his pen; a concentrated frown taking over his features as he hesitated to write his answer down.

That was not all. You were trying to ignore the way his knee knocked slightly against yours as he turned back to his own desk with a short nod. Leaning over the worksheet-cluttered desk, he looked genuinely serious for once. It had been a long time since you saw him like this. Actually, it may have been your first time.

His hair fell over his eyes as he continued to scribble over his textbook.

Are you happy now? You asked yourself, as you watched him. He’s finally not trying to bother you, or distract you from your studies, or…

He chewed on his lower lip, tilting his head to the side and staring at the question as if it would give him the answer he needed. At this, you shivered, because this side of Riki was so foreign to you. It was so unfamiliar that you did not feel comfortable. Because why would Riki, with a bunch of rowdy, carefree friends from his dance club, ever turn to a life of books? Even you, who broke down at the first glance of a C grade, had accepted that it’s a sad life.

When Sunoo walked past your conjoined tables just a few minutes before the bell rang, he shot you a smug look. It sent a small shudder down your spine – something really was up that day. But as you did everything that happened in school, you ignored it and stood up promptly to lead the class in greeting the teachers.

Now, although it’s an unknown concept to you, you and him are on the borderline definition of friends. You may have sworn deep inside your heart to hate him till the end of time, with his arrogant airs and his constant over-the-top quips. But beneath the careless exterior lays a young boy who just wants to appear older than he actually is.

At eleven in the night, as you both burned the midnight oil studying for an exam the next day, he quietly confessed that more than anything, he just wanted to look cool. Like his Heeseung hyung who always seemed to ace anything he tried. Like his Jay hyung who was such an inspiration and influence to his style. Like his Jake, Sunghoon and Jungwon hyungs, who were pros in their own sports. Like his Sunoo hyung, who always knew just what to say and how to say it.

And when you looked up from your messy notes, heart wrenching upon hearing these words coming from someone you hated for the longest time, you could only see hints of sadness dotting his eyes.

The boy who had utterly ruined your first impression of him by bumping into you without apologising. In a haste to receive the football, he darted in front of you and had you sent to the nurse’s during your PE lesson. The next time you saw him after that was a shy peek of his head into the sick bay. The apology note he wrote was promptly torn up into a million pieces for the trash.

This boy was struggling in his own ways. He wasn’t untidy and disorganised. He was trying his very hardest to manage all the pieces of work he had overdue and unfinished. The boy you believed used his popularity and luck to squeeze his way into the class. His hard work and efforts were and are still easily commendable.

Perhaps it’s the reason why teachers are more lenient on him not submitting homework. Maybe it’s why they seem to give him special treatment after he returns from a competition, sometimes victorious and sometimes defeated.

Today, it’s another late night call for both of your Chemistry exams tomorrow morning. On the other end of the call, Riki is silent – all you can hear are the scratches of graphite probably calculating some form of mass. You look up at your computer screen to check in on him, knowing that today he lost a match as the centre. It is probably the sportsman’s equivalent to failing a subject you normally excel at.

A sigh leaves him every once in a while, and a hint of blue indicating sound coming from the call flickers in your periphery. At this rate, you can’t focus on your work. You’re scared to ask and at the same time you’re scared to stay quiet.

“... Are you okay?” you ask tentatively, reaching out to adjust the volume. When Riki doesn’t answer for a few moments, your stomach twists into a knot so tight you feel like choking.

“I’m fine,” he finally answers, quietly, so soft you can barely hear him. He doesn’t look up from his worksheets, but his shoulders remain slumped and he can’t even meet your eyes for a second. He’s clearly lying and as usual, going to cover it up with a jocular facade.

“Oh my gosh, yn,” he mutters on cue, letting out a huff of forced laughter. “I think I’m going to fail if you don’t help me.”

He’s trying to brush it off. You know. You’ve been in his shoes before, in a different situation and circumstance. And the feeling of being at the lowest of lowests is not a pleasant one. “Riki…”

The boy’s smile instantly fades and his gaze darts to the side. “Right. Sorry. Um, I didn’t play very well today.”

There it is. “Let yourself have a break. You know that you’re doing your best, right?”

Never in a million years would the you at the start of the year imagine that you would be uttering these words to your seatmate. Sincerely, and you truly mean it. You would never have thought your heart would ache to make his tattered and torn one whole.

“Right.” With the weight of one word hanging over both your shoulders, you get the feeling that he has more to say that he ultimately never will. “Thanks.”

You offer him a slight, sad smile in return. After a while of studying and comforting him, you shut off your lamp and bid him goodbye whilst telling him he probably needs to get some rest for tomorrow. The memory of him returning your smile boxily still lingers after you shut down your computer and leave your room. You hate him so much. You hate him for making you feel like you’re not alone in this world. You hate that you see yourself in him and that he makes you feel seen, validated, real…

The next day, you walk up to your seats at the back of the classroom. Surprisingly, Riki’s sitting there before you are, an unusual sight especially since he normally comes in hours late after games. He’s pouring over his own Chemistry notes, the first you’ve ever seen. His handwriting is messy in the pretty kind of way, lacing over the small pages.

“Riki,” you call him softly, to get his attention. He looks up at you, eyes rounded cutely, and your heart does a small flutter. “Here, this is for you. Are you feeling better?”

He blinks rapidly as you pull out a small goody bag filled with snacks and candies. And at the bottom, although he doesn’t see it yet, is a note that you’ve poured your heart and soul into. It sounds like a well-obscured confession, and maybe to him it may be, but it’s a thank you for being in my life. Thank you for being here even though I know you probably don’t want to.

Why does he look like he’s never been gifted anything before? His cheeks go red and he looks at you with the happiness of a toddler. Eyes shimmering in the dawn light, he grins. “Thank you.”

For a moment, the empty classroom goes silent. With a quarter an hour to seven, your classmates are going to start coming in soon, to collectively mug and cry over Chemistry. So before that happens, you clap your hands and point at the bag.

“Open it now! And read what’s inside!” You babble, taking a seat beside him. Your knees touch again, and he seems to be reading your whole face with his eyes alone, but the adrenaline has you fearless for once.

He slowly begins to unfold the note you hid at the bottom, an uncertain and suspicious frown on his face. But underneath it, you just know his heart is beating as hard as yours is. As if the anticipation is contagious – or you’re simply an expert empath.

dear riki,

i hate you.

yes, you read that right. i despise you with every fibre of my being. i can’t take your presence beside me in class, ticking me off with every smart remark you make in the middle of math. i can’t take the way you look at me with hopeless defeat or arrogant victory when you get back from any one of the many sports you play. i hate how talented you are, how cool you seem to me, how much you remind me of me when you tell me what’s on your mind.

because i worked so hard to get into this class and worked so hard for a reputation of being the best student leader and the smartest girl in school. and you – you seemed not to work at all. you would walk into this classroom like you owned it. and i hated it.

until i started to like it.

i liked the way you smiled. i liked the way you teased me. i liked the way you rolled your eyes when you saw me fretting over physics yet again. what made me change my mind, you ask? well, a small glimpse into your life shows me you do work hard. you probably work twice as hard as i ever can and will. i like that.

and as much as i never say it, i like you.

When Riki’s eyes reach the bottom of the square-shaped paper, you see him start to tear like never before. It scares you to the core. You have never seen him so emotional.

“You’re joking,” he laughs boyishly, running a hand through his hair and looking at you. Is this the first time you have seen his cheeks so rosy and vibrant, the first time you’ve seen his eyes squinted in such joy? “You are joking right now.”

“I’m not,” you smile back, “rea–”

And he interrupts you by leaning in and kissing you, sweet and gentle and shy just like all the other times he’s ever interacted with you. He gets up from his seat and leans on the back of yours for support. You can feel his smile against your lips, genuine and real for the first time in forever. It feels new yet it feels like solace.

“You’re the class president,” he whispers in the intimacy of both your gazes. So close yet so out of reach. His hands shake and he cradles the top of your head hesitantly. “and I’m the boy who does anything but study. Why me?”

You hum and shrug your shoulders. “You’re the sportiest boy I know, and all I ever do is study so I can be the top student. Right back at you.”

The giggle Riki lets out before he leans in and kisses you again will remain forever engrained in your mind.

“i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

thank you for reading! please please please do send me feedback and share your opinions! i would love to hear you guys in my asks n dms as well ;) have a good day everyone!

more of my works >

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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cruel summer - a.leclerc

masterlist

t-swift inspired works list

requested: n

pairings: Arthur leclerc x gasly!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of alcohol + teasing + mentions of flings/hookups

a/n: yes my tags are under f1 I just don’t know how many people view the f2 works tags. wrote this at 5am a couple weeks ago! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

you’re not looking to fall in love you’re just looking for something fun for the summer. after having dealt with a harsh break up, the last thing you need is a man occupying your mind.

that’s until the annual gasly and leclerc siblings vacation in Italy. Arthur was just facing a fresh new start after a rough breakup as well, and a month in the countryside couldn’t have sounded more appealing. he’s also not looking for anything serious.

that’s until he sees you curled up under the blankets around the bonfire, body leaning against his older brother, Lorenzo. the orangey red flames reflect your beautiful features to him, and all of a sudden any idea of a summer fling has fallen short. he’s now realizing maybe there’s a chance to fall in love again.

you’re sipping on the last of the limoncello when Lorenzo calls it a night for himself. he presses a kiss to your forehead and wraps the rest of your blanket around your body. Charles nods along saying it’s late for him, but you and Arthur could stay longer. and you do.

“you’re not tired?” he asks, watching your tipsy body sway in the chair. your brother, Pierre, takes your glass from you officially cutting you off for the night.

“don’t need to get wasted on the first night.” he shakes his head in disapproval, and it’s his turn to head in for the evening. the three older boys have a big day ahead of them, they planned to head into town and do some racing while the two of you hung back.

“I should probably go to bed too.” you sigh watching the flames dance around the fire pit. you look up to see Arthur’s fixated on the flames too. you’ve noticed the distant lost look in his eyes, you didn’t question his appearance, you’re sure you look the same. it’s a cruel summer so far, and god you’re hoping it turns around.

—

it’s 3am when you find yourself tending to your drunk cravings. you tossed and turned in the bed trying to fight sleep, but the liquor still in your system was craving something salty.

you’re sitting at the dinning room table attempting to make as little noise as possible with the bag of chips in front of you. the house is silent, the only thing that fills the air is the sound of light snores and now you’re loud bag of chips.

it wakes Arthur up— but to your lack of knowledge he’s already awake. he hadn’t been able to sleep, your face in the glowing lights of the fire still dance around in his mind. the words of his ex girlfriend telling him he was “unlovable” linger in too, he tries to fight the words and the pictures, but falls short.

he throws the covers off his body, deciding maybe a movie or a television show would tire him out. he wasn’t expecting to see you awake in the kitchen, crumbs of chips around your lips while you munch on them. god even half awake his heart nearly beats out his chest.

“did I wake you?” you ask, guilt washes over you watching him shake his head as he slips into the chair across from you. you tilt the bag in his direction but he declines.

“I was already awake.” he explains watching you devour the salty treat in front of you. he studies how you waste no time to chew before shoving another one in your mouth. he watches you close your eyes in satisfaction of the salty cravings being met.

“how’s your summer been so far?” you ask deciding to fill the silence between you both, growing a little irritated of listening to the light snores.

“could be better, you?” he asks reaching across the table using his thumb to wipe the excess of chip and salt that linger your lips. you nearly stop breathing when his thumb comes in contact with them, his thumb is soft and gentle against your lips. his skin just brushes your chin, heart beginning to pound like crazy over this act.

“yeah same.” your breath is uneasy as you exhale when he finally pulled away. he chuckles to himself watching your pupils dilate, mouth slightly agape, and eyes lustful. he watches you fix yourself and your tipsy state returns once again.

“happy to be out here, away from the world.” he looks out the window adjacent to the table. stars fill the sky, you couldn’t see stuff like that for days in the city. he loves his summers in the countryside; just drinking, tanning, swimming, and most importantly now you. you and your little bikinis your brother warns you not to wear, you and your tight skirts, you and your beautiful figure. he can’t wait for a whole month of it.

“it’s going to be a fun month.” you sigh relaxing into the chair finally full from all the salt and crunching. he takes the bag of chips from you beginning to munch himself.

“yeah? what do you plan to do?” he asks leaning forward. maybe you could be his summer fun, his one time thing that he’ll maybe regret later on, but he won’t now. not when you’re this stunning and so beyond out of his world.

you shrug, “I don’t know, have some fun.” you smile pushing yourself up from the chair feeling exhaustion finally hit you. “I’m just looking for fun.”

he watches you walk away, you’re almost up the stairs when he adds one more thing. the last thing to say before leaving you to dream of tomorrow, “I know how to have fun, y/n.”

“goodnight, Arthur.”

—

you’re laying against your towel, back facing the burning rays, while the four boys play spike ball. the noise of their laughter and grunts are disturbing of your attempt at peace.

you give in to the sound of the wave crashing against the sand and decide to take a swim. you feel a familiar pair of eyes watch you walk past the four boys. you’re wearing the tiniest of bikini bottoms, and a top that’s a size too small for your chest. arthur noticed, of course he noticed. after yesterdays conversation all he can think about is ruining that stupid “bro code” Pierre made him promise to. he promised to never date or mess with his sister.

except it’s summer time, those rules don’t apply to a fun summer, right? he just wants something to occupy his mind, and you already said you’re not looking for anything beyond fun. he’s the perfect contender for this summer job.

“focus, arthur!” Charles fakes a throw at his brothers head, the younger boy flinches in reaction. he nods along going back to the game, but out of the corner of his eye every time the game stops, he sees your body floating across the cool salty waters.

“I think I’m going to go for a swim.” arthur announces when the three others call it a day on the game. they nod along watching him make his way towards where you are. you’re standing, feet sunk into the sand, allowing the waves to crash against your body, every so often going underneath to hear the muffled sounds of the waves crash against the sand.

when you look over towards the boys you notice they are all hanging around on their towels, and one leclerc is missing. your eyes dart around the beach before feeling someone yank your leg from under the water. it’s him.

“you scared me.” you laugh watching him come up for air, wet hair pressed against his forehead. he takes the palm of his hand brushing the hairs back, chuckling at your scared state, hand over your sunburnt chest.

“that was the point.” he says, noticeably moving his eyes up and down your body. taking in the way your bottoms nearly fell down your hips, and the way your top lifted upwards exposing your under breasts.

“cannot believe Pierre let you leave the house like that.” he licks his lips shaking his head, watching your already red face become a darker shade just by his comment.

“well he doesn’t own me.” you say, his body drifts closer due to the waves, you don’t mind, you allow yourself to be taken by them nearly stumbling into his chest. he’s praying to god your brother isn’t seeing this.

“you’re right, but maybe he should’ve said something because the things you do to me. god,” he exhales, a smirk forming his lips as he shakes the dirty thoughts, “it’s unholy.”

you exhale an uneasy sigh feeling warmth spread across your chest, heart rate picking up. you want this, god you want this with him, “tell me about them.” you run your fingers down his abs, they run over every divot and peak of his body.

“why don’t I show you tonight?” he takes his index finger resting it underneath your chin, thumb stroking the side of your face. you can’t say any words just nodding in agreement.

“can’t wait.”

—

the dress you’re wearing flows with the wind, all five of you moving around the winery watching the sunset. you think he’d behave himself this close around your brother, but he allows his arms to slip around your waist every so often, and hand squeeze your ass in any private moment. he’s tearing your patience, and that dress of yours is testing his.

pierre leaves you with the leclerc brothers to go to buy a bottle of wine for you and your family to take back home. you nurse the last couple of sips in your drink listening in on the three boys conversation. your eyes gravitate towards him, his white linen shirt has two buttons undone exposes his cross necklace, and his sun kissed chest. he knows what he’s doing, just like you knew what you were doing when you slipped on the dress with a low v. you’re both making each other beg.

“I’m going to go see what’s taking him so long.” Charles mutters leaving the three of you alone. Lorenzo makes an excuse you can’t remember because now it’s just you two. and he’s already whispering dirty secrets in your ear.

“we are in public, Arthur.” you giggle feeling his hot breath against your ear, it tingles a sensation throughout your body that trickles down your spine.

“I want to take you in this winery.” he whispers, hands pushing the few hairs that brushed in front of your face with the wind. you want him. god you want him bad, you can feel warmth spreading against your panties.

“my brother is here, you can’t.” you hiss, you want to break gaze from him, check on the status of Pierre and see if he’s coming back. but your eyes stay glued to those beautiful thick pink lips. god, you want him to take you in this winery.

“whatever happened to having fun? you don’t want to meet me in the restroom in say five minutes?” he checks his watch beginning to set a timer, he taps it and turns away. on his way inside he runs into Pierre telling him he’s using the restroom before they all leave, and now you’ve got five minutes to make that same excuse.

you sigh unsure what you’ve got yourself in to, but five minutes pass and you’re now heading to the private restroom. softly knocking on the door praying this is the one he’s in, and to your luck he is.

he opens the door and you slip in before anybody could notice, he presses your body against the wall, hands pulling the material of your dress up your thighs while you’re undoing his belt. this is the fastest you’ve got things done, you don’t have much time knowing the three out there would get suspicious.

“I can’t stand you right now.” he mutters, when he finally rips the wet material that’s against your throbbing pussy. you could whine you’re so needy for him.

“you’re cruel, leclerc. teasing me like that.” you spread your legs for him, his fingers grip your thighs as he enters you. you’re doing everything you can to keep yourself quiet— that includes biting the collar of his white linen shirt practically leaving teeth marks.

his thrusts are quick and short, he doesn’t have much time but he’s still showing you how he feels. his tip nudging your clit, pleasure washing over you. you bite down even harder on his shirt feeling tears well against the brims, you so badly want to scream, you can feel your legs beginning to shake. he’s too good for you, he wants to take his time get every part of your memorized.

“that’s it, come on.” he whispers still edging you on, hands twisted in your hair he watches you relax against him. teeth unclenching his shirt, your body practically exhales on him. your head hits the wall when he pulls out rushing to find toilet paper to clean you up.

“such a good girl.” he mumbles, the sandy paper gently brushes against your inner thighs. he helps you return back to your normal state, combing out any knots in your hair, both of you now leaving the restroom.

“wasn’t that fun?” he asks, you have a few more feet until you’re in front of your brothers and this talk couldn’t go on anymore. you just let out a dry laugh shaking your head.

“yeah if you didn’t have to take me so quickly.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow. Pierre catches your eye, and he knows somethings different. you weren’t this happy nearly an hour ago when you arrived to the winery, and he’s not stupid when he sees the teeth marks in Arthur’s linen shirt.

“do I need to remind you that my sister is off limits to fuck with?”

“you’re a little too late, because I already did.”

No rules, in breakable heaven

It's a cruel summer

With you

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ponderingmoonlight · 28 days

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Hello Carina! I absolutely ADORE your works I'm hooked Was wondering if you could do Geto/Nanami/Gojo/Sukuna x fem reader who grew up in a toxic household that encouraged bad eating habits like eating extremely small amounts and tried to always make her a good and docile wife. But she left them and is now pretty successful but her eating habits are still pretty bad Please stay hydrated this summer!

A lot of you guys request stuff like bad heating habits from me and I'm actually a little scared that I receive a shit storm for writing these sensitive topics, but there you go! I decided on Geto since he is the sweetest boy ever but if this goes well and some of you guys show interest, I might write something similar for the other characters as well - enjoy <3

Geto encouraging his girlfriend to eat more after growing up in a toxic household

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: After your toxic parents tried to force you into their picture of a thin and docile wife, you left them as soon as possible and became the best version of yourself - if it wasn't for your bad eating habits still haunting you down when you're out with your boyfriend. Until he decides to have a talk with you...

Warnings: Just let me tell you right from the start that there's nothing wrong with being thin and I hope it's obvious that we're talking about an unhealthy connotation in this fic, if you get triggered when it comes to toxic parents and hurtful phrases regarding weight please don't read this. In general, this contains sensitive content and a few pieces of ED and harsh language, but our boy Geto telling us how much he loves us the way we are

„You know you are totally able to eat more than that, right? We’ve been out without any food for hours now, you need to care for yourself, love.”

Suguru’s hand gently caresses your back while you stare at the salad you just ordered.

“You’re gonna look like a pig soon if you don’t stop eating like one, (y/n). Didn’t I teach you a lady needs to watch her diet?”

“No man wants a fat woman, trust me.”

“Thank you so much for looking out for me. I’m good”, you mutter after shaking their cruel words off your mind.

You can’t bring yourself to catch a glimpse at his comforting brown eyes, not when your guilty conscience almost eats you up alive. The stinging words of your mother and father haunt you until this day. Even though you left years ago and started your very own life away from their toxic household, even though your precious boyfriend Geto Suguru is the living proof for them being wrong.

Just one look at the salad in front of you paired with your memory is enough to feel like in your childhood all over again.

“Hey, look at me honey.”

Gently, his hand caresses your cheek and lifts your head into his direction. There they are, his oh so loving orbs, his tender smile that warms your stinging heart in an instant.

“We’ve been together for a year now and you still seem to be upset when you have to eat around me. I can’t help but wonder why you torture yourself. Is it because of me, did I give you the feeling you aren’t good the way you are? Because I love you with all my heart.”

You never allowed yourself to cry in front of someone else. To be exact, you stopped when you were greeted by nothing but harsh words from your parents with every tear that ran down your cheek. You are supposed to be a good and hostile woman, the perfect little wife for some wealthy man your parents already decided on when you were still 10. A woman that doesn’t speak as much as you do, a woman who doesn’t eat as much as you do. A feminine angel walking on earth with the only purpose to say yes and amen to her beloved husband.

When you were finally old enough to leave them behind, you packed your things and joined jujutsu high. Life is easier around here with so many beloved friends by your side who support and truly love you. Yes, they showed you how good you are, that you are independent and are allowed to have your own opinion, that it’s okay to say no. Yes, you even started to eat a little more and gained a healthy amount of weight and well-formed muscles.

They were wrong. Your parents were so wrong with everything they taught you. But this…

You bite your lip when a sub escapes from deep down your throat, hot tears now stinging in your eyes so violently that you can’t catch your breath. Eating has always been your weakness, the one and only thing you can’t fully control until this day. Their words still crush you every time you order something to eat.

What if Suguru doesn’t find you attractive when you gain even more weight?

What if he thinks it’s disgusting to see you eat like a pig?

What if he’ll fall out of love when you show him that you aren’t as perfect as a doll?

“I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to see you cry”, he instantly speaks out, wrapping his much-needed arms around you so tightly that you sink into his broad chest.

“It’s just…I’m afraid to eat more…”, you finally blurt out.

A part of your heart flutters in relief when those words finally leave your mouth. For more than a year, you simply forced yourself through the aching of your stomach, the hunger that kept you awake when Suguru laid next to you fast asleep. All because of their cruel words. All because they made you believe your whole life you aren’t good enough if you eat “too much”.

“You don’t feel comfortable eating around me, don’t you?”

You simply nod against his chest, too ashamed to lift your head. How embarrassing to hear those words leaving his lips, that he already knows why you’re acting this way.

“May I ask why? Did I say or do something that makes you feel this way, love?”

Your head starts spinning. The sheer thought that he might think your strange behaviour is his fault, that he did something wrong is ridiculous in your eyes.

“Absolutely not. It’s…It’s…”

Why is it so damn hard to find the right words? You stutter like an idiot for what feels like ages while listening to Suguru’s steady heartbeat. He knows how rough your childhood was, that your parents treated you like the dirt underneath their feet. You were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. Until you became a well-known and rich jujutsu sorcerer with a charismatic man like Geto Suguru by your side.

“See? I told you you will find a wealthy man if you keep up with our education, daughter.”

“All because we taught you everything you know and kept you in shape!”

“No”, you replied immediately, straightening your shoulders while facing the people who made your life living hell for more than enough years.

“I did all of this by myself. Because I chose to be the person I am instead of the person you wanted me to be.”

“They always told me I’m too much, that eating in front of my man is strictly forbidden. I was supposed to be a thin and docile wife.”

Your voice is nothing but a far away whisper. All those nights your father scolded you when you weighted more than you did before. How your mother screamed at you when your curves start to develop through puberty, how disgusted they looked at you when you wore shorts or ate next to them. Deep within, you know how toxic your eating habits are despite the positive changes you’ve been through. But still…Just the thought of eating a cheeseburger in front of Suguru fills you with so much disgust that your guts turn immediately.

“You aren’t docile but strong and stubborn. You aren’t only thin but strong and athletic. Your body is capable of so much more than simply being thin, (y/n). You are perfect in every single way, your body allows you to fight so well that even Satoru admires your skills. You are so breathtakingly beautiful that I could stare at you all day…I am glad you didn’t follow their rules, that you didn’t turn into the good and docile wife they wanted you to be. Because you became so much more. Because you can do so much more. But for that, you need to fuel your body the way it deserves it even when I’m around. I love to see you eat, I love to see you happy and healthy. And I know how hard it can be to overcome things you were taught from a young age. Would you promise me something?”

Now you can’t help but lift up your head, staring at him through your wet lashes. His words, his oh so sweet words still linger through your mind and force your cheeks to turn bright pink. Is this really how Suguru feels about you, are you really enough for him just the way you are?

Why wouldn’t you? After all, he was the one choosing you.

“What?”, you mumble.

“Promise me that we will work this out. If you can’t bring yourself to open up to me, please consider checking up with Shoko or another professional. I admire you for all the things you’ve already did, that you were actually able to turn into a wonderful woman with that horrible family. I’d love to hang out with you while eating chips, I’d love to eat a whole lot of unhealthy junk food and sweets with you without you worrying about my thought. Because the only thing I care about is that you’re happy. And you being healthy and eating properly means happiness.”

That smile. That oh so bright smile that reaches his brown eyes and lifts up your mood immediately. Oh, you truly don’t deserve him. A new wave of fresh tears threatens to spill over your eyes and begins to take your sight.

But those aren’t tears of sorrow. No, those are tears of pure joy and love.

You throw yourself around his neck before he’s able to catch you properly, causing both of you to almost fall off his chair.

“I will”, you mutter against his ear.

“I promise I will work on it.”

“I’m more than glad to hear that”, he replies softly while caressing your hair.

“Would you like to order something else in addition to your salad, then?”

You let go of Suguru with a small smile, holding his hands tightly as your heart overflows with love. The man who showed you what you’re capable of, who supports you through anything. Sooner or later, you will be able to share food dates with him and enjoy them. But until then…

“I’m fine for today. But next time, I might order something else.”

“Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready, (y/n).”

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seravphs · 1 year

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drabbles:

✧ modern intimacy | 200 fluff

Gojo watches you get ready for your anniversary date.

✧ all roads lead home | 600 fluff

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru, companion piece to modern intimacy

✧ all the rumors are true | 450 fluff

He’s an idol. You’re a hairstylist.

short/long fic:

✧ dinner plans | 1k fluff

Gojo's a brat.

✧ spoil | 1k fluff

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy.

✧ sweetheart, psychopathic crush | 1.5k fluff and mild angst

“What I want from the river is what I always want: / to be held by a stronger thing that, in the end, chooses mercy.” - Advantages of Being Evergreen by Oliver Baez Bendorf

✧ starboy | 1.6k fluff

Your job description entails taking care of one (1) astronaut on his way to Mars. It doesn’t say anything about falling in love with him.

✧ arrive through obliteration | 3.5k smut

Gojo deserves a trophy for winning his fight against Sukuna. You’re happy to deliver.

✧ you get me closer to god | 3.7k fluff

Kneeling by your bed, rosary wrapped around your knuckles, lips pressed to the burnished rosewood, you pray. God, please send me another guardian angel. A blast of static from the TV behind you. The one you sent me- “Hey, how does the thing work?” Gojo says, accompanied by loud thumps. You cringe in silence. He’s strange.

✧ graveyard shift | 4.5k fluff | (not really a) mafia au

When you took the job, you knew working the night shift at your local convenience store would be boring. That’s fine; you’re here to make enough to pay rent, not to smile for strangers who don’t care anyways.The appearance of a stranger who seems to have a lot to hide is tantalizing bait to your boredom, but you can’t give in. That is, if you have a choice at all.

✧ the commutative property of relationships | 4.5k smut

Gojo and you have little to nothing in common besides a friend group and a shared crush on Nanami Kento. However, as befitting the sorcerer to end all sorcerers, of course Gojo has one up on you - he’s actually made a move on Nanami. If he offers to give you a taste through him, who are you to turn down such a golden opportunity?

✧ star power | 6.8k fluff

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

universes:

✧ cruel summer

✧ teen dad gojo

series:

✧ let your hand become a blade so I may take it | royal au | 1/7 chapters

Updated knight! gojo x princess! reader

✧ the hand which holds the knife | royal au | 2 chapters

OLD DRAFT of knight! gojo x princess! reader

✧ spring in hell and everything’s blooming | 2/5 chapters | estimated 12k

There is before-Getou and after-Getou. In both spaces, Gojo exists.

✧ beating hearts promised to bared teeth | 1/2 chapters | estimated 20k

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

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hugshughes · 4 months

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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 - 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱!𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧'𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨.

𝐰𝐜 - 600 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘/𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭! 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 - 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘!!!!!, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐥, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩, 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞(?)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧/𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

Social Media!

thevogue.com/artists/yn-yln/#bio

Artists / Y/n Y/l/n

Pop Female Vocalist Indie Folk Post-teen Pop Singer-songwriter

Published December 2nd, 2023. 11:29AM PST

Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n (born January 11, 2001, in Annapolis, Maryland) is an American singer-songwriter. Y/l/n is a 3-time Grammy winner with a total of 11 nominations (as of October, 2023). As of October, 2023, Y/l/n has sold 26 million albums and 88 million singles worldwide.

Y/n Y/l/n is a internationally praised pop-indie phenomena. She quickly rose to fame at only 17 when she released her debut album Pause (February 19, 2018). Pause sold over a million copies in less than 48 hours, soaring to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart. 8 of Y/n's songs took place on the top ten and it took 41 weeks for Y/n's songs to exit the top 10. Pause racked up 3 Platinum singles, including Blouse, Innocent, and Bags.

Y/n Y/l/n's fame somehow skyrocketed higher when she released her second album Chaser (January 19th, 2020). The album features mostly love songs, rumored to be about her then boyfriend, NHL player Mathew Barzal. The album featured best sellers such as Cruel Simmer, Habits, and Happiness is a Butterfly.

As we stay on the topic of her ex boyfriend, she has been stuck in one scandal regarding her love life. In September of 2021, 20 months after releasing Chaser, there were paparazzi videos released of the IT couple in a shouting match on the street outside of popular restaurant, BOA Steakhouse, in Los Angeles, California. Video depicted Y/l/n crying as she fought with the hockey player, who was caught insulting Y/n very explicitly. The video ends with Barzal storming back into BOA Steakhouse, and Y/l/n sitting on the curb, awaiting her ride after the NHL star shouted, "Get a f***ing Uber back if you're going to be a b***h and embarrass me like this!" Bystanders watch as Y/l/n entered long time friend Tate McRae's car.

Less than a week later Y/n confirmed the end of the three year long relationship, with no further comments. While there have been no albums released since Chaser, in January 2020. Y/l/n has released two singles, Memories, and The Cut That Always Bleeds, both released in the summer of 2022.

As of now, December 2023, there has yet to be any major news of new music, but there's always the tiny bits and rumors that get down to the public. While Y/n has promised an album in 2024, she has yet to set a release, causing fans to believe it will come in the later months of the new year.

All in all, Y/n Y/l/n is a talented, young superstar. She captivates audiences like few can, and with the way her career is going now, could be one of the biggest star the world's ever seen. Most recently, Y/n was spotted in a cozy Baltimore suburb alongside Taylor Swift, who Y/n has repeatedly mentioned as her biggest influence when it comes to music, as well as her biggest fan. Swift seemed to take Y/n under her wing in 2019, even having Y/n open a stretch of her shows at The Eras Tour, in 2023, as well as the US shows in late 2024!

There are obviously large things in store for this young influential woman, and I can't help but applaud all of her hard work and dedication to her work.

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195 notes · View notes

rainbowdaisy13 · 6 months

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*As always, these are my thoughts and connections Im making as I watch—I do not claim to know anything secret or for this to be taken as fact*

So we start out the Spotify Video with a pan out of the whole scene which is essentially Taylor-World with her as the centerpiece—song choice is Cruel Summer which is heavily Kaylor coded

The next scene is these two people in love in what we find out later is Taylor’s eye. Shes wearing Miss Americana and the other person is a taller woman with her face covered by leaves—why would her face need to be covered? The infamous red scarf is present which has now become a symbol for Taylor’s affections (IBYTAM video)

Next we see the clock moving closer to Midnight and a woman dressed in lavendar answering the phone upside down. Shes got clock earrings on and seems to be real excited about whatever she’s talking about

Next a close up of the Lover House burning in Taylors hand—this symbolism is so important to Taylor it’s *the* thing she has in her hand—could’ve been anything but it’s that

Pan out and we get another tall face covered (again why can’t we see who these people are?) stranger step into frame next to the Sunset and Vine street crossing—a Gorgeous reference, which is also heavily Kaylor coded

We switch to seeing the clock again move closer to Midnight and hear the lyrics “I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below” as we see this gentlemen covered in clocks checking both his watches—is it time yet?? Is it happening?? I believe the people in yellow represent us in this fandom constantly checking our watches asking WHEN TAYLOR

Next we get an Angel / Devil scene where the dice seem to add up to 89 and 13 at different times. What interests me more is that the Angel first aims for the dice—she’s gonna kill The Game—and at the last second changes her mind and decides nope she’s gonna take down the Devil who is playing the Game

After the Angel presumably takes out the Devil, the clock finally strikes Midnight and an ensuing earthquake appears shaking everyone up—this is wild to me—once we meet her after Midnight she knows the world will be shaken by her truth. But don’t worry! Tree is there measuring the aftershocks and noting how TS The Business is impacted

Next we get shots of a girl with her face covered playing guitar, 2 people fishing, and people dancing in the snow in a cave—if yall have any connections with those add on, nothing super jumped out to me. I DID love the Fox peaking out of the KT boot though

Then we see another person in yellow trying to see through the leaves in the snowglobe—again I think this represents this fandom. There’s also another woman in Orange, with her face covered, sitting next to a dog that resembles Karlie’s dog

And my fave part where it all comes together, the closing shot of all the small people in Taylor World is again focused on the 2 lovebirds—it’s revealed they are in Taylor’s eye, and she winks as we hear “I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you”

A Masterpiece as always well done Mastermind

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daisyswift3 · 1 month

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UMM so cruel summer and a lot of other songs are making a lotttt more sense now that I’ve realized the “devil” that Taylor keeps referring to is actually the music industry as a whole thanks to @keepingsecretstokeepyoutk (see this post). “He looks up grinning like a devil” // “I would’ve stayed on my knees and I damn sure never would’ve danced w the devil AT 19” // “Dear reader if you aim at the devil make sure you don’t miss.” Do you remember the Top Global Artist vid that spotify released that had cruel summer as the background song and had a bunch of cruel summer references? Yeah go back and watch that again w this context in mind 😃 Taylor (the angel) has had enough of the games and is gonna end them once and for all which is very Katniss Everdeen of her—hello the archer 🏹 if any of you have read or watched the hunger games you know how the story ends

And you'll also remember that Katniss escapes the games twice by cheating--the first time w poison berries and the second time by destroying the arena itself (which was a clock) WITH itself using a lightning strike current at midnight that shot thru her arrow -> "And there was one prize I'd cheat to win." Not to mention Katniss was the mockingjay, a symbol of rebellion and resistance. And the fire symbolism in this trilogy was meant to represent how that rebellion can spread from a spark of hope. Snow lands on top but fire melts snow. Taylor is a huge hunger games fan so I wouldn't be surprised at all if these parallels were intentional. Also I'm not the first one to notice the hunger games connections, I saw some other gaylors point this out so I can't take full credit for that

“You play stupid games you win stupid prizes” // “Devils roll the dice” // "Baby let the games begin" // The scrabble instagram post // The mastermind chess board // "You see all the wisest women had to do it this way, cause we were born to be the pawn in every lover's game" // "No more keeping score now I just keep you warm. No more tug of war now I just know there's more"

I think it's possible Taylor knew that her masters were gonna be sold hence all the game imagery and songs abt heartbreak on lover

She's literally gonna take down the industry as a whole and expose everything. This is the reason for all the cryptic messages and meticulous planning. AND THIS IS WHAT THE ALBATROSS IS ABT TOO. “She’s the albatross she is here to destroy you.” They tried to keep her locked away in cages and towers and closets and tried taming her and pulling out her teeth but it didn’t work

“Devils that you know raise worse hell than a stranger” SHE’S the devil now and she’s abt to make their lives a living hell

“She’s the death you chose” i.e. the music industry chose to kill Taylor (which is why TTPD is a post-mortem album) so now she’s coming back to haunt them hence the ghostly Victorian attire. “We gather here we line up weeping in a sunlit room and if I’m on fire you’ll be made of ashes too.” THIS is the karma she’s talking abt that will happen at midnight!!

“You’ll see me in hindsight tangled up w you all night burning it down”

I am the APPARITION. I am the LINE OF POETRY. THAT’S TAYLOR. SHE’S THE GHOST WRITING POST-MORTEM POETRY

Literally feel like I am abt to explode from all the earth-shattering revelations I’ve just had

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perseephoneee · 1 month

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⭑ FIC RECS ⭑

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

last updated: 04/15/2024

↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*

SUPERNATURAL

every headcanon from @via-l0ve

her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)

dances with team free will @octoberclidan

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse

ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney

dean reads you wrong @zepskies

she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme

smoke eater (series) @zepskies

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER

a taste of summer @impala-dreamer

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer

beautiful to me @impala-dreamer

angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin

i'll watch over you @octoberclidan

if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites

neckties @supernaturalfreewill

love, by any other name @zepskies

peculiar @supernaturalfreewill

because of books @supernaturalfreewill

last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51

don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51

his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer

sharing is caring (III) @zepskies

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines

aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines

hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy

mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

cruel summer @hotdogwillex

come back to me @hotdogwillex

cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy

i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf

drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife

dream @rogershoe

fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs

teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs

prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals

VAMPIRE DIARIES

dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

hold (18+) @wholoveseggs

extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs

blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs

warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs

the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

she knew better (18+) @klausysworld

distracted @theeoriginals

you bring me home @theeoriginals

sharp (18+) @theeoriginals

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

christmas khaos @wholoveseggs

goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines

frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri

thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

proposal @kmikaelsonimagines

Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey

bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey

shots @so-long-soldier-writes

little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey

of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey

ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey

like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER

for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx

lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

kisses @socio-kai-path1972

why? @socio-kai-path1972

affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES

a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI

reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose

overtime (18+) @cleo-fox

loki's happy ending @gingerwritess

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES

graveyard @wkemeup

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

red flags (18+) @astroboots

HUNGER GAMES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR

oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore

darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs

TED LASSO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT

chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly

about you @buckychristwrites

saved you a seat @benedictscanvas

operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff

DOCTOR WHO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR

family christmas @writerlyhabits

gestures and evasion @doctenwho

before you go @doctorslove

falling in love again @doctorslove

CRIMINAL MINDS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID

virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland

i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks

all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland

a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer

second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems

preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva

STRANGER THINGS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE

two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve

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deliciouspirateangel · 1 year

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random thoughts on the first two eps of cruel summer s2 dont spoilers open inside

so im watching with my sister of course and we also rewatched s1 together and wow. we were going back over summaries of the show that were like "two sides to the story, who will you believe?" as if we were ever supposed to be on jeanette's side. the thought is sooo laughable its sad

anyway in that same vein we're also both automatically for isabella and against megan (bc you have to choose sides you cant like two characters at once duh) like isabella has been in town for 6.3 seconds and megan already hates her and is also snooping thru her stuff like ??? get a grip get a life and get over it

and then my sister asked me which character i thought would have the unnecessary gay subplot this season and now we're scared its gonna be megan lmao. that one shot with the fireworks and the song playing and megan staring at isabella had us like uh oh

bc my god that gay relationship was the least necessary subplot of the first season it was so bad. not that it needs to be relevant but they treated it like it was lmao. and the mallory/kate thing was fine but so rushed so idk these writers dont do justice to queer. id rather be spared

the "twist" of the first ep was something we saw coming a mile away lmao. youre supposed to think isabella is dead and i was like "if she is dead then no she's not it's her twin sister" and then it showed that missing persons poster with the person torn off and my sister was like "i bet its the guy friend" and i was like ooh yeah you're right it's the guy friend

and then they unzip the body bag and are like "it's guy friend" and we were immediately like no tf it's not let me see the body!! so idk why the dad would lie or misidentify the body maybe they wanted to save money on special effects so they didnt show it but we still think something is fishy idk

and since me and my sister share one brain cell we both got the idea that isabella is like brenda song's character in stuck in the suburbs. if you dont understand then idk what to tell you </3 basically she's just hyping up her life but its mostly a lie idk

and omg the bullshit about that video was so gross. again one brain cell after the first ep we were like "you couldnt even see the person in the video i bet it wasnt even her!" well surprise

and isabella taking the blame anyway bc megan could lose her scholarship and get suspended from school like ??? why should this involve the school ewww and of COURSE misogyny and misogynoir and of course no one can say or do shit to the boy in the video bc his daddy owns half the town bleh

even a year later when she's in college like the whole town still believes this lie that could ruin isabella like ??? yall just tell omg. i think they at least mentioned the fact that she was underage and that constitutes as cp but goddamn no one in shows ever cares

like literally the guy's dad who owns half the town couldve spoken up like "i know my son isnt going to get in trouble for any of this so i dont think the girl in the video should either" but no lets get the whole town to hate her

i think the dad killed his son idk thats my guess

the show isnt great but at least its fun lol what do YOU guys think is gonna happen this season??? hmu

#cruel summer #cruel summer season 2 #isabella larue #megan landry #luke chambers #angel watches stuff #angel watches cruel summer #my thoughts

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elryuse · 2 months

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MY ANGEL

HAN SO HEE X MALE READER

TAGS : Bully/Mafia So Hee, Bullied Reader, Tender Love, Blood, Passionate sex, Kissing, a little bit of angst, Happy ending??

The humid Korean summer night pressed against Y/n's thin apartment walls. The monotonous buzz of the cicadas outside mirrored the monotonous rhythm of his life: office, convenience store, sleep, repeat. He sighed, stirring the instant ramen in his worn pot. A sudden, insistent pounding on his door shattered the routine silence. Dread coiled in his stomach. Who could it be at this hour?

He cautiously cracked open the door, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing there, illuminated by the flickering stairwell light, was Han So Hee. The name, once synonymous with terror in his school days, now evoked a strange mix of fear and a forgotten flutter in his chest.

So Hee, the girl who'd ruled the hallways with an iron fist, was a mess. Her once-pristine white blouse was stained crimson, a raw gash bleeding on her arm. Her eyes, the very ones that used to hold a glint of cruel amusement whenever she'd corner him, were now filled with a desperate vulnerability.

“Y/n,” she rasped, her voice raspy. “Please, I need your help.”

Years rolled back in a dizzying montage. So Hee, trip leader during freshman year, tormenting him with cruel nicknames and public humiliations. His heart pounded a frantic tattoo against his ribs. Yet, a flicker of something new, something that wasn't fear, sparked in the pit of his stomach.

“Come in,” he stammered, surprised by his own voice.

So Hee stumbled inside, the metallic tang of blood hitting him like a slap. He ushered her to the only chair in the room and, ignoring the tremor in his hands, helped her settle down. The fear in her eyes was raw, a stark contrast to the haughty facade she’d always worn.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She closed her eyes, taking a ragged breath. “I… I got into trouble. They’re after me.”

Details were scarce, delivered in hushed tones. A botched mission, ruthless enemies, the police hot on her tail. She was part of a Mafia gang – a truth so far removed from the world he inhabited that it felt like a movie scene unfolding in his tiny apartment.

She pleaded for a place to stay, just for the night. He braced himself for a rejection, for a flicker of the old scorn in her eyes. Instead, he was met with a raw vulnerability that tugged at something deep within him.

“You can stay,” he blurted, surprising himself the most.

Relief flooded So Hee's face, washing away the grime and blood. He cleaned her wounds with a gentleness that surprised him, the hesitant touch leaving a spark on both their skins. He offered her warm clothes, stolen glances revealing a woman far removed from the tormentor of his past.

Days turned into weeks. So Hee, stripped of her bravado, healed both physically and emotionally. He watched her vulnerability transform into a quiet strength, the fear replaced by a fierce determination. His quiet apartment became a refuge, filled with the simple act of cooking meals together, the sound of shared laughter echoing through the small space.

He was drawn to this new So Hee, a woman battling demons he couldn't see. One warm evening, after dinner, the charged air between them crackled. She turned to him, a hesitant smile gracing her lips.

"Y/n, thank you," she whispered, her hand brushing his. "For everything."

The touch was electric, igniting a yearning he hadn't known existed. He cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. The familiar scent of blood and jasmine, once repulsive, now sparked a forbidden desire.

"There's something else I need to ask," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in, anticipation thrumming between them. "What is it?"

She met his gaze with a newfound intensity. "Come with me. Join me in my World."

His heart lurched. It was a world of violence, a far cry from the quiet life he cherished. Yet, the way she looked at him, the vulnerability mixed with something deeper, made his world tilt on its axis.

"I can't," he choked out, the words a bitter truth. "That's not who I am So Hee."

Disappointment clouded her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a different glint, a glint of something primal. Her voice was a mere husk when she spoke. "Then at least let me give you something else. In return. "

Before he could react, she was pulling him close, their lips meeting in a collision of desperation and need. Her kiss was a storm, fierce and demanding, awakening a hunger he hadn't known he possessed. She tore at his shirt, urgency fueling her movements, mirroring the frantic pounding of his heart.

The kiss ignited a wildfire in Y/n's chest. He fumbled with the buttons of her borrowed shirt, the thin cotton whispering against his eager fingers. Her skin, exposed by the falling fabric, was warm and smooth, a contrast to the coolness of the night air seeping through the window.

He grazed a fingertip down the exposed column of her neck, sending shivers rippling across her already taut skin. A moan escaped her lips, a sound so raw and vulnerable it sent a jolt through him. It wasn't the cruel dominance of his school days, but a desperate plea, an urgent need that mirrored his own.

"So Hee," he breathed, his voice thick with a desire he hadn't known he possessed. "You're safe here with me."

Her eyes fluttered open, surprise flickering in their depths before melting back into a yearning that mirrored his own. "For now," she whispered, her voice husky.

He backed her towards the worn mattress that dominated his tiny bedroom. It creaked softly in protest as they landed on the familiar surface. The scent of instant ramen and loneliness that usually clung to the air was overpowered by the sudden intensity of her jasmine perfume and the metallic tang of her blood, a strange, exhilarating combination.

His fingers grazed the curve of her hip, sending a gasp through her. Her touch was equally frantic, her nails digging into the thin cotton of his t-shirt, bunching the fabric in her fist. Every touch sent a jolt through him, a raw awareness of her body pressed flush against his own.

"Does it still hurt?" he murmured, his voice thick with concern as he traced a line down her arm, his thumb catching on the raw gash that was still healing.

She shook her head, her eyes locked on his. "Not anymore," she whispered, the tremor in her voice betraying the lie.

The knowledge sparked a protectiveness within him that surprised him. He brushed a gentle kiss over the wound, the taste of salt and iron a strange counterpoint to the sweetness of her lips moments before.

He trailed kisses down her neck, savoring the heat of her skin beneath his touch. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He reached the edge of her blouse, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. He hesitated, gauging her reaction.

Her eyes fluttered closed, a silent plea on her lips. "Please," she breathed.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled the fabric away, revealing the creamy expanse of her shoulder. The moonlight streaming through the window cast an ethereal glow on her skin, making her appear even more fragile, even more captivating.

He couldn't resist any longer. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the soft outline of her cheekbones. Their gazes locked, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Then, he closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

This time, the kiss was an exploration. He tasted the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her fear, the raw hunger that mirrored his own. Her hands roamed his back, her touch both hesitant and demanding. He felt a surge of possessiveness, a need to claim her, to protect her from the world that had brought her to this point.

"Y/n," she gasped between kisses, her voice laced with a desperation that both scared and excited him.

"I'm here, So Hee," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got you."

The kiss deepened, a tangle of limbs and whispered promises. He explored the smooth expanse of her back, his fingers sending shivers down her spine. Her blouse fell forgotten on the floor, and a gasp escaped her lips as the cool air touched her bare skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire as he traced the curve of her hip.

"No," she breathed, her voice laced with a newfound vulnerability. "Not beautiful. Not after everything I've done to you."

He cupped her face in his hands, his touch gentle. "You are beautiful, So Hee. More than you know."

His words seemed to break a dam within her. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she buried her face in his chest. He held her close, whispering words of comfort, the storm of emotions that had been brewing within her finally finding release.

As her sobs subsided, a shaky breath escaped her lips. "Hold me, Y/n. Please," she whispered.

He tightened his hold on her, the simple act of holding her close a balm to the turmoil within them both. But the embers of desire still flickered beneath the surface. He trailed a finger down her arm, sending a spark through her.

"So Hee," he murmured, his voice husky. "Are you sure"? The question hung heavy in the air, the unspoken desires a tangible presence between them. So Hee lifted her head, her tear-streaked eyes locking with his. The vulnerability was still there, but a new spark flickered within them – a spark of defiance, a flicker of the old So Hee, the one who wouldn't be ruled by fear.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, yet laced with a steely resolve. "I'm sure."

He didn't need further confirmation. He leaned in again, this time the kiss filled with a newfound urgency. It was a desperate dance, a collision of fear and desire, a frantic exploration of each other's bodies. Her touch was no longer hesitant, her fingers exploring the contours of his chest, tracing the muscles beneath his t-shirt.

He fumbled with the buttons of his own shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the bare expanse of his chest. Her breath hitched as she took him in, her eyes lingering on the faint scar etched across his shoulder from a childhood fall.

"A badge of honor?" she murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "More like a reminder of clumsiness."

The tension, though momentarily broken, was soon replaced by a renewed sense of urgency. He trailed kisses down her slender neck, his touch sending shivers cascading down her spine. Her blouse, forgotten on the floor, became a tangled mess around her arms.

He knelt between her legs, the moonlight highlighting the vulnerability exposed before him. He paused, his gaze searching hers. In that silent exchange, a promise was made, a promise of respect and tenderness amidst the swirling passion.

Her eyes fluttered shut as a shaky nod escaped her lips. The hesitancy was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate plea. He took it slow, his touch a gentle exploration, a reverence for the woman who had barged into his life and turned it upside down.

Each gasp, each moan that escaped her lips, was a symphony to his ears. He savored her touch, the light caress of her fingers exploring his back, the frantic grip of her nails digging into his arm. The small room became a universe of its own, filled with the sounds of their shared breath, the rustle of sheets, and the symphony of their passion.

The night wore on, a blur of tangled limbs and stolen moments. Each touch, each kiss, was a rediscovery, a peeling back of layers for both of them. The fear that had shadowed their earlier encounter melted away, replaced by a raw, primal connection.

As dawn's first light cast a soft glow through the window, they lay entangled, exhausted but strangely content. The world outside still held its dangers, but for now, in the quiet haven of his small apartment, they had found a fragile peace, a connection forged not just in the heat of passion, but in the vulnerability and trust they had shared.

But the weight of reality soon pressed down. So Hee stirred, her eyes fluttering open. A flicker of fear returned to their depths. The haven they had created was temporary, and the harsh reality of her situation still loomed large.

"What now?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Y/n knew this was the moment of truth. He could let her walk away back into the dangerous world she belonged to, or he could take a leap of faith, a leap that could shatter the quiet life he'd built. He looked at her, this woman who had brought chaos and passion into his life in equal measure, and a warmth bloomed in his chest.

"I don't have all the answers," he admitted, his voice gruff. "But I know I can't just let you go back to that."

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "We'll figure it out together," he promised, the words a vow whispered into the dawn.

So Hee stirred beside him, the first tendrils of dawn painting the window a pale gray. A bittersweet ache settled in her chest. As much as she craved the normalcy, the tenderness she'd found in Y/n's tiny apartment, she couldn't stay. Her world was a tangled mess of violence and loyalty, a world that wouldn't hesitate to claim her life if they discovered her betrayal.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.

He stirred beside her, his eyes blinking open sleepily. A smile touched his lips, soft and gentle. But as he saw the worry etched on her face, the smile faltered.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

She took a shaky breath, the words catching in her throat. "I can't stay," she blurted out, the confession a physical weight lifting from her chest. The relief, however, was laced with a searing pain that threatened to drown her.

Y/n's face fell. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a hollowness that mirrored the sudden emptiness blooming in her own chest.

"Why?" The question was a mere whisper, laced with a quiet desperation that tore at her heartstrings.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring his worried face. "It's not safe for you," she choked out, her voice barely audible. "They'll come for me, and if they find me here..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. The image of his gentle eyes filled with fear, his peaceful life shattered because of her, was too much to bear.

He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek. His touch was a silent plea, a desperate attempt to hold onto the fragile connection they had forged.

"There has to be another way," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "We can figure something out together."

The hope in his voice, the fierce determination to protect her, filled her with a warmth that threatened to melt her resolve. But the cold logic of her situation intruded, a harsh whisper echoing in the quiet room.

"No, Y/n," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her heart. "You deserve a life without looking over your shoulder, a life without the constant threat of violence."

A tear escaped her eye, tracing a warm path down her cheek. Y/n wiped it away with his thumb, his touch lingering on her skin, branding her with the memory of his tenderness.

"But what about me?" he asked, his voice cracking. "What about what I want?"

His words were a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the selfish desires battling within her. She wanted nothing more than to stay, to curl up beside him and pretend the world outside didn't exist. But the weight of her responsibility, the loyalty she bore to those who had taken her in when she was a scared orphan, held her back.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, burying her face in his chest. Her voice muffled, she confessed her love, a torrent of words that tumbled out in a desperate attempt to bridge the distance that was already growing between them.

He held her close, his silence a stark contrast to the storm raging within her. The warmth of his embrace was a bittersweet comfort, a reminder of what she was losing.

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the room, they knew their time was up. With a heavy heart, So Hee pulled away, the lingering warmth a stark contrast to the sudden chill that had settled on them both.

They dressed in a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, So Hee stood, her backpack slung over her shoulder, a weight heavier than its contents.

She looked at Y/n, his face etched with a mixture of sadness and understanding. In his eyes, she saw a flicker of something else – a spark of determination that mirrored her own.

"I'll find a way," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'll find a way to be with you."

Her heart ached with the impossibility of his promise. Yet, the hope in his eyes ignited a flicker of warmth within her.

"Maybe," she whispered, the word a fragile bridge between their two worlds.

With one last lingering look, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air, So Hee turned and walked away. The familiar click of the door shutting behind her echoed in the small apartment, a finality that threatened to break her.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Y/n went through the motions of his life, a ghost haunting his own apartment. So Hee's absence was a constant ache in his chest, a void that no amount of instant ramen or reruns could fill.

One particularly dreary evening, Y/n dragged himself home from work, the rain mirroring the grey mood that clung to him like a second skin. He fumbled with his keys, the familiar click of the lock a hollow sound in the silent apartment. As he flicked on the light, a gasp escaped his lips.

There, in the dim glow, stood So Hee. Her hair was damp from the rain, a single tear glistening on her cheek, but a radiant smile lit up her face. Gone were the worn clothes and haunted eyes; in their place stood the So Hee from before, confident and captivating.

But it wasn't just her appearance that had changed. There was a new sparkle in her eyes, a quiet confidence that spoke of battles fought and won. Scattered around the room were a motley assortment of gifts – a brightly colored scarf he'd admired in a window display months ago, a box of his favorite instant ramen (a suspiciously large one), and a worn paperback filled with stories from his childhood.

"So Hee?" Y/n's voice was a mere whisper, a mixture of disbelief and joy bubbling within him.

A tear slipped down her cheek, a single perfect drop that mirrored the one on his own. "Hi, Y/n," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm home."

He closed the gap between them in two long strides, his arms wrapping around her in a crushing embrace. The familiar scent of jasmine filled his senses, a powerful reminder of everything he'd thought he'd lost.

"H-how?" he asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "How did you manage to do this?"

She pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's just say I've learned a few new negotiation tactics," she said with a wink. "And don't worry, everything's already taken care of."

Doubt flickered in his eyes, but before he could voice it, she silenced him with a kiss. It was a kiss filled with relief, with a hard-won peace, and most importantly, with a love that had endured separation and hardship.

As they pulled apart, a comfortable silence settled between them. So Hee's gaze swept across the room, landing on the instant ramen.

"How about some dinner, Mr. L/n?" she asked, a playful smirk on her lips. "This time, my treat."

Y/n laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound that broke the tension for good. He pulled her close again, the warmth of her presence a balm to his soul. "Just promise me one thing," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

"Anything," So Hee whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

"Don't ever leave me again."

So Hee met his gaze, her eyes filled with a newfound fierceness. "Never again, Y/n. Never. "

They spent the rest of the evening tangled together, devouring the mountain of instant ramen, reminiscing, and filling the silence with the comfortable sounds of laughter and shared stories. The night was far from perfect – their past lingered like a shadow, and the future remained uncertain. But in that simple act of being together, of sharing a meal and a laugh, they found a fragile peace, a promise of a future built on love, trust, and the unwavering determination to face whatever challenges awaited them, together.

The rain continued to lash against the windows, but inside Y/n's apartment, the storm had passed. They had weathered the darkness and emerged on the other side, a little stronger, a little wiser, and forever bound by the love that had brought them together.

The instant ramen lay forgotten on the coffee table, a testament to their shared laughter and a prelude to something more. So Hee's fingers trailed up Y/n's arm, sending shivers dancing across his skin. Her touch was a stark contrast to the harsh world she'd left behind, a reminder of the tenderness she'd craved for so long.

He cupped her face, his thumbs tracing the soft curve of her cheekbones. Her eyes, once filled with fear and defiance, now held a depth of emotion that mirrored his own. In that silent exchange, a lifetime of unspoken words passed between them.

The kiss that followed was filled with a newfound intensity, a desperate hunger that spoke of their long separation. It was a collision of relief and desire, a celebration of their hard-won reunion. So Hee surrendered to the embrace, her lips melting into his, the taste of him both familiar and intoxicating.

His touch was electric, igniting a fire that had simmered beneath the surface. He explored the curves of her back, his hands sending shivers cascading down her spine. Her blouse, a forgotten casualty of their earlier laughter, fell away, revealing the creamy expanse of her skin that glistened in the soft lamplight.

As their clothes became mere obstacles, a whispered plea escaped So Hee's lips. "Y/n," she breathed, her voice laced with a raw vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings.

He understood. He understood the fear that still lingered within her, the battle scars etched not just on her body but on her soul. He took it slow, his touch a gentle exploration, a reverence for the woman who had brought chaos and passion into his life in equal measure.

Each touch, each kiss, was a rediscovery, a peeling back of layers for both of them. The fear that had shadowed their first encounter melted away, replaced by a raw, primal connection. They moved as one, a tangle of limbs and whispered promises, their bodies a symphony of shared pleasure.

In that moment, So Hee finally understood. This wasn't just love, it was a kind of redemption. Y/n wasn't just a refuge, he was an angel, a beacon of light that had pulled her from the darkness. He saw the good within her, even when she couldn't see it herself.

As dawn painted the sky with streaks of pink and orange, they lay entangled, exhausted but content. The world outside still held its uncertainties, but for now, they were safe in each other's arms. So Hee had found her happily ever after, not in the grand gestures or the thrill of danger, but in the quiet embrace of a man who loved her, flaws and all. And Y/n, the once quiet office worker, had found his purpose, his reason to fight for a brighter future, not just for himself, but for the woman who had become his everything. In the end, they had saved each other, not from external threats, but from the loneliness that had threatened to consume them both. They had found love, redemption, and a future filled with the promise of forever.

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

cruel summer | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, song fic, love confessions (?), regulus is a attention seeking piece of shit (affectionate), clingy reg, not beta read

wc: 1.1k

this is request ! i’m sorry it took so long, i hope you liked it!!

tag: @tr4ppola

Your favourite pastime activity was lying. Little white lies, that is, lies that were so obvious that everyone knew not to take them seriously. Like saying you were a muggle whilst you cast a complicated spell, or saying that you had once dyed your hair a colour that you swore to never do, or saying that you were —in no ways, involved with Regulus Black whatsoever.

Sneaking around though, was on the other end of your favourite things to do. You like Regulus too much so you let that factor slide through.

It's as if you only ever see him during the quiet nights where no one could ever spot you. You know that that isn't how a normal relationship should function but the red flag tends to look white when you look at it through rose tinted glasses.

More often than not you feel like you earned him, a (semi) bad boy who was wanted by everyone in school. He was a shiny toy with a price and you know damn well you bought it.

The meeting spot is different this time, a room within a room in the room of requirement. He'd only told you to meet him at the room of requirement at ten and you showed up right on time only to be met with confusion.

In front of you were a set of doors, circling around you as you stood over stained glass rings, blue merged with pink then pink into purple where the centre of the room was. Instead of figuring out how to find him on your own, you call out to him, "Regulus?"

"Down here," he replies, you look down onto the glass pane and furrow your brows when he is nowhere to be found. "Stand at the centre, sweetheart."

You do as you were told, watching as the glass dips under your weight; you can hear the mechanics working, it unlocking steps for you to take. Once you finally meet Regulus, you cock your head to the side with a teasing smile. "An oddly complicated way for just a booty call."

Regulus frowns, "this isn't a booty call, ma chérie." He moves towards you, and you let him place his hands on your hips. "I just missed you."

You roll your eyes and Regulus thinks that while the devils may roll their dice, he was sure angels spend their time rolling their eyes at him and his behaviour. But then again, what doesn't kill him makes him want it more. And you were just that.

Opposite does attract after all.

"You shouldn't miss me so often," you fixed him a look. "My friends are starting to suspect where I go so often."

It's his turn for Regulus to roll his eyes, albeit more elegant and poise then you ever did. "This is your fault," he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "We wouldn't have to be doing this if you just told everyone about us."

Regulus had decided to keep your relationship a secret at first, wanting to test the waters and after the first few months went smoothly. So smoothly that he'd found himself smitten with you. He wanted everyone to know, he knew that it was weird for him to claim you but he'd like people to know that he wasn't willing to share.

But you think a lot, way too much at times, and decided that no, you do not want people to know about the two of you. Because, you wanted him all to yourself, you liked him too much for other people to know.

"I'm sorry, my love," you say first, a hand reaching up to brush back his outgrown curls. "I promise it won't be for much longer."

Contrary to popular belief, Regulus Black was a clingy person, so touch starved and clingy that you pressed a kiss on the top of his head for good measure.

He stills for a moment, obviously planning something before he presses a kiss to your neck and pulls away. "Would you still love me tomorrow?"

"What?" You splutter, confused on why he decided to bring tomorrow up. "Of course, I do."

"Thank you, mon amour. I love you too." He says before asking. "My game's tomorrow, you're coming to see me right?"

"I always do," you tell him and he smiles. "Why are you asking me this?"

He makes a face. "Just trying to make sure my girlfriend won't run away before my plan unfolds."

Slytherin were losing, and the longer you watched Regulus not even trying to seek out the snitch the more you realised that he was throwing the game on purpose.

You stood up from your seat in the stands and found your way to the railings. "OI! BLACK!" You call out and he turns to you distractedly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE SNITCH IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

He turns away, looking uninterested. "I can't see a thing, sorry."

You were starting to get annoyed now, confused on when Regulus had gotten this kind of attitude but you chopped it up to how being dramatic more often than not runs in the Black family.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You yell, your voice loud despite the hundreds of others also yelling the same thing at him —albeit with a little more colourful words than you were using. "WHY AREN'T YOU PLAYING?"

"I want you to tell them," he says instead of answering your questions. You're a bit confused on how you can still hear him over the sound of support from the other where their Seeker was actually doing the job. "I want them to know."

"KNOW WHAT." You began to yell when it dawned on you. He wants you to tell everyone about your relationship. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

He shrugs. "Do you want me to win?"

Knowing how pouty he could be if he didn't, you steel yourself for what's to come next. "REGULUS BLACK." You yell and you can see the other team's seeker dive towards the snitch. "I DON'T WANT TO KEEP SECRETS JUST TO KEEP YOU FOR MYSELF ANYMORE."

The crowd goes quiet, waiting to see the scene unfolding before them. Of course it was another Black brother hoarding the attention all to themself, creating a scene as they stole the spotlight from everyone else.

So you prepare yourself, screaming for what it's worth. "I LOVE YOU. AIN'T THAT THE WORST THING YOU HEARD DURING A GAME?"

The other team's seeker loses sight of the snitch, audibly gasping at your confession towards his rival. The snitch continues its way around the pitch.

"NOW PLAY THE DAMN GAME SO PEOPLE CAN KNOW HOW COOL MY BOYFRIEND IS."

The snitch finds it way a few feet above Regulus' head, you want to laugh at how this was playing out. The snitch was just invested in this as everyone else.

The snitch holds his spot and everyone watches with bated breath because, one, the game seems like it was nearing the end, and two (the much important reason they were watching) was that they wanted to see how Regulus would react.

His eyes look up from his broom and meets yours, it took him a few seconds before he broke away. Looking up, grinning like a devil at his now second prized possession (with the first being his chérie of course).

He reaches his hand up, easily snatching the snitch with a breath-taking grin. He clutched onto the snitch tightly, and a second wave of anxiety hit. What if he'd mistaken something else for the snitch amongst everything that had just happened?

Finally, Regulus unclasped his fist, letting the snitch hover above his palm. And as the game officially reaches its natural ending. The announcer's voice started up.

"It looks like Black has gotten the win this round," the announcer says first, their tone playful. "And would he be a black brother if he didn't get the girl as well?"

And then, since you had always been outgoing, so outgoing in fact, that everyone in the castle knew of you and your habits. So just to be sure, the announcer adds, “this isn’t one of your lies right?”

You can’t help but smile at that, Regulus had always found your smile infectious so, naturally, he found that it was useless to even try hiding his smile from you as he awaited your answer.

“Why would I lie to you about this?”

— from bee: i hope you liked this! and is what you’d imagine when you’d sent in the request! feed backs/reblog/notes are appreciated!! :]

#regulus is a cutie #regulus black x reader #regulus black x yn #regulus x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fluff #regulus black imagines #regulus black x female reader #regulus black scenarios #regulus black humor #regulus headcanon #Spotify #🧳: my writing

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pahtoosh · 1 year

Text

you’ll always have a place here

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~1100 words

warnings: baby has a bad dream. fears of being unwanted. so cheesy. like soooo cheesy.

a/n: this piece had like three totally different iterations😭 my brain is melting i can’t look at words anymore

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: you have a bad dream and doubt your daddies’ love for you

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Taking care of you, babying you! God, do you have any idea how hard it is on us?

“I- I’m sorry, I-“

“We’re tired of it. We want you gone.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

You startled awake. There was a deep pain in your chest and you were breathing heavily. You started to remember the dream and cried. How could your daddies be so cruel?

Something came to rest on your shoulder, making you flinch.

Steve retracted his hand. “Sorry, sweetness. We heard you crying and you didn’t answer when we knocked so we decided to check on you. What happened?”

You wanted to tell him to go away, but your Dada’s gentle, concerned gaze made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you and you couldn’t hurt him.

“H- had a bad dweam.”

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that, baby.”

“D- daddies was m-mean to me an-“ the thought of repeating what your nightmare daddies said made you burst into tears again.

“What, sweetness, what was it?”

You shook your head and hid behind your hands. Bucky came up on the other side of you. “That’s okay, angel. Are you feeling overwhelmed right now?”

You nodded and crawled into Bucky’s lap, burrowing your face into his neck.

“Is someone feeling very small right now?”

You hesitated before nodding again.

He spoke quieter this time. “Does someone need their daddies?”

You were quiet, scaring Bucky into thinking that he overstepped. But then you quietly whispered, “Need daddies”. With their supersoldier hearing, Steve and Bucky just barely caught it.

Steve cooed, scooted closer, and comfortingly rubbed your back. “Daddies are here, baby.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

When you calmed down, Steve and Bucky brought you to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Let’s get some food into that belly of yours. Your brain needs all the energy it can get!” Dada got the food ready while Baba set the table.

“Do you want a bib, angel? Dada and I saw these and thought you might like them.”

You were taken aback by their kindness. “For me?”

“Yeah for you! Now, do you want the flowers or the stars?”

“Um, stars please.”

“Good manners, baby.” He kissed your cheek and then helped fasten the string around your collar.

Steve reappeared to put the plates of food on the table. “Oh, someone’s looking very cute right now.”

You blushed at the compliment.

“Do you want us to feed you, sweetness?”

You looked away and toyed with your bib. “Don’t wanna be a bother.”

“You’re not botherin’ anyone, baby. This is what daddies are for. Here, open wide for the pancake plane.” Steve held out a forkful of pancakes toward you.

“Can it be a submarine instead?” you asked shyly.

“Well if it’s a submarine, now I gotta start over!” Steve brought the fork from the plate to your mouth again, this time bobbing the utensil up and down slowly to make it move more like a submarine.

You giggled at the show he was putting on for you and happily took a bite.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

After breakfast, Steve and Bucky decided you could have a little screen time and watch one of your favorite shows. They were a little shaken by this morning and thought a treat would help you get your mind off of it.

As you sat between your daddies and watched the colors dancing on the screen, your mind began to wander. You were doing exactly what your nightmare daddies hated. Forcing them to watch a show that only you like when they could be working or doing something they liked.

You daddies noticed a shift in the air. Your heart was beating fast, you were breathing a little heavier, and your eyes were pointed forward but not looking at or focused on anything.

They turned off the TV and went into caregiver mode.

Steve gently guided your hands away from scratching holes into your pants and rested your palms on his chest so you could feel his heart.

“Breathe with me, baby. In, and out. Just like that, perfect.”

When you calmed down, you broke away from Steve’s hold. Instead of crawling into your Dada or Baba’s lap like you so desperately wanted to, you hugged a pillow and sunk into the couch.

“I’m okay now. Yous guys- uh, you guys can go do whatever you want now.”

“What do you mean, babydoll?”

“I know you guys don’t want to just sit here and watch TV with me so you can go. I’ll be okay by myself.”

“Sweetheart, what makes you think we don’t wanna be with you?”

“I just know, okay?” You were getting frustrated now, why did they keep arguing with you?

Bucky connected the dots. “Oh, baby. Is this about the dream you had?” His head was tilted to the side and his eyebrows scrunched together. He looked so sad and worried.

You had to turn away.

“Sweetheart, we love you,” Steve began. “And that means we wanna spend time with you. It doesn’t matter if it’s your big activities or your small ones, we want it all with you.”

You began to sniffle and hid behind the pillow.

“Angel, maybe you’d feel better if you tell Dada and Baba what happened in that dream of yours. Can you try? We promise we won’t be mad.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to make this a bigger deal than it already was. You felt immature and undeserving of their comfort.

“Please tell us, we just wanna help.”

You took a shaky breath and explained. “You said you didn’t wanna take care of me anymore. You said you were tired and you wanted me gone.”

“Oh, baby.” Your daddies wrapped their arms around you as you cried again.

“It was so m-mean and it felt so real,” you sobbed.

“Sweetness, I’m so sorry you had to hear that. We would never, ever say something like that to you.”

“Yeah, Dada and I are crazy about you, you know that?”

“You are?” You looked out from behind the pillow to see from your daddies’ faces if they were lying.

“Sure are. We talk about you nonstop with the team when we’re on missions, we can’t wait to get home with you. And when we’re with you, we’re as happy as can be.”

“You’re it for us. You make all of this,” your Baba waved his hand in the air, “worth doing.”

You pushed the pillow aside and hugged your daddies close. “Thank you, Baba. Thank you, Dada. I’m sorry I believed the dream.”

“Shh, you’ve got nothin’ to apologize for. Anytime you need a reminder of how much Baba and I love you, we’re here.”

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #slight angst #sfw regression #agere fic #marvel agere #you’ll always have a place here #you’ll-always-have-a-place-here #youll-always-have-a-place-here #toosh writes #hoping someone notices the cutesy butesy word thing I did

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sheisjoeschateau · 3 months

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"...at the Chateau, we'll be alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional inpso from Joe's college theater performance as in Spring Awakening.

Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst, angst, angst. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Hurt/comfort. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

But here, together at the chateau, you'll be alright.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊ ⋆SNEAK PREVIEW⋆ ⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ This will be another series of mine, dedicated to my boy. Coming soon.

[excerpt from the story]

There was something about the way you twirled in your sundress that reminded Steve of the bible.

He wasn't religious, nor did he think any god truly loved or believed in him. But here, watching you exist in your garden of eden at the Chateau, the good book almost seemed real.

You resembled something otherworldly. Heavenly, sent straight from above. Innocent, yet wise. Kind, yet strong. Powerful and delicate at the same time. Your laugh was soft, feminine and pure. Your spirit was whole. Your smile blinded him with joy. Your beauty was divine, angelic and overwhelming. You were too much…and yet, you could never be enough.

But that wasn’t because you yourself weren’t enough. No, rather it was because Steve would never be able to get enough of you. He could never be close enough. He could never be near you enough. He could never tell you enough words that would accurately describe the way that you made him feel.

The word ‘enough’ simply did not apply when it boiled down to you.

And yet, as Steve swept you up into his arms — discarding his books and his education down onto the lawn, much more driven to study you — holding you felt like that was all that he would ever need for his life to be considered enough. The feeling of your waist in his grasp, his strong arms circling your petite torso as your hair flew in the wind of the circle he spun you in, felt like a tornado. A cyclone, sweeping you both off your feet so that it could take you far away from everything and everyone. You were this fragile flower in his hands, yet unbreakable. Real, but too good to be true. A true story, but a fairytale of the mind.

Jonathan saw you this way — but from a more niche, almost platonic point of view. It was just as codependent, yet approached with more independence and the ability to exist on his own two feet. He’d do whatever it took to keep you, no matter what the hell that took. And he knew that to some degree, a pretty scary degree, that he needed you too. But he was content with the need. Satisfied, at peace. Completely grounded, secure. Unlike Steve, who smiled out of fear and loved with his whole heart on the line. Because Byers knew how to be alone. He knew how to rely on himself, fill his own cup even when it was empty — which was all the time. Byers was the epitome of “I walk alone.” The human embodiment of solitude. He preferred your company, your grace and your presence. It made him better, and stronger — because he’d known prior how to operate without it.

Harrington didn’t. Harrington needed someone, all the time. As an only child, the loneliness had suffocated him in his big house with no parents. He’d had no one to shush the nightmares away, no one to hold him whenever the monsters felt near. No one to run to and trust with any secret that he had. No true friend who would listen to his most intrusive thoughts without casting him away. No girl that wanted him in the ways that he so desperately sought to be loved, not just lusted after. Until you came along, sheltering him from all his deepest and darkest fears, childhood traumas and the ever-looming possibility of rejection. He had been a threat to himself, and you put that threat to rest with just a soft brush of your lips against his knuckles and the touch of your tender hands.

Whereas with Byers, you made him feel seen but not disturbed. You allowed him to be present without needing to overcompensate. You granted him refuge, earning his trust with your actions instead of your words. He didn’t need your touch to calm him. Rather, he felt steadied by just knowing that you were here. You knew that touch was never a friend to Jonathan, which is why you never pushed yourself in. Instead, he found himself drawn to you. He didn’t recoil at the physical contact made between the two of you. A hug, a warm embrace that lingered just an extra second or two. A gentle squeeze of a hand as you shot him a wistful smile. The most feather-like of kisses pressed to his cheek to say hello, good morning, good evening or goodnight. It felt…nurturing. Assuring, fostering.

Out on the outstretched lawn in front of the Chateau, acreage upon acreage, Jonathan watched your hair gleam underneath the golden glow of the setting sun. He let the Marlboro in his mouth dangle between his teeth, the curriculum resting upon his lap as the scent of nicotine and fresh air filled his senses. The mixture of it was perfect for the scene laid out before him: Steve spinning you around, his white collared shirt unbuttoned just enough to wear his tie swung in the breeze as he continued swirling you around like a princess. And when he’d placed you back onto your feet, he peppered every single inch of your face with an obscene amount of stolen kisses as you giggled like the darling that you so effortlessly are. Jonathan felt his lips tug upwards at the corner, unable to help himself when it came to the two of you. His shoulder angel and shoulder devil.

He turned the page of his literature books, revealing his unfinished letter that he’d begun writing at lunch in response to his mother. Joyce had written to him, asking him to tell her everything about the summer. How was it in France? What was it like? Were the hosts kind, was he being polite towards them? What about you? Were the two of you getting along, as well as the other student?

Jonathan glanced up from his scribbled cursive, back at the two of you. Steve was cupping your cheek, placing a flower in your hair with his free hand before moving to cup your other cheek so that he was cradling your face. His perfect, sharp nose nuzzled to the tip of yours sweetly. Jonathan felt his heart swell as the two of you turned to look at him with pure love. Your arms stretched out towards him, along with Steve’s, beckoning him. Come play with us. He grinned at you both wholeheartedly, holding up a hand — which you both knew meant he would, just a little longer. You’d all learned each others’ love languages by now, along with how to communicate through gestures and expressions. Body language was all of your specialty, in a multitude of ways that no one else could ever possibly understand. Jonathan didn’t mind that. It was only meant for the three of you.

Flicking his cigarette, he glanced back down at the incomplete letter he was ready to finish writing for his mother. He took his pen, letting the ink spill onto the parchment. He'd already written down things earlier, telling her that your parents had taken them in as their own. He wrote about how much your father made him adore his studies in ways he never had before, and how he'd been inspired to help Steve study alongside him as an assistant tutor of sorts. He wrote to her about an Aperol spritz had somehow become the drink of the summer, using fresh citrus from the gardens of your estate, and how it made uncharacteristically sappy. How you and Steve made him that way too, even without the poison coursing through his veins.

Something about them makes me feel like I can, Mom. I keep asking myself if this all just a dream. Or maybe, it’s the past? Not sure. Either way, just thought I’d ask. Not because I am seeking the answer, from you or the universe. Rather, I’m simply existing and letting it all just happen. C’est la vie. I know…so very French. Perhaps I'm running a fever. A lovesick sort of fever.

Jonathan grinned down at his writing with wry amusement at himself. At his life.

He turned over his shoulder, glancing back at the majestic chateau behind him. Chateau Chalamet. Your childhood home. His new home, as of that summer…which was dwindling away, day by day. Every day that passed meant that he had less time. All of you were losing time. He sighed, resuming his writing.

I’ll turn back the time whenever this all ends. In my mind, this will always be a home away from home. Which is something I never thought I would say. I’m not really sure what my future holds. But it doesn’t really concern me at the moment. Now right now. Right now, I'm at the chateau and I feel alright. Love, Jonathan

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