#Just be still and do nothing more than breathe.

[chaldeanu]

lovers ノ aventurine . boothill . sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.3k ノ fem reader — weirdly poetic thirsts with hcs imbued in prose ノ it’s more suggestive rather than explicit . i was just vibing with their personalities idk ノ briefly mentioned rough treatment ノ secret affair . implied situationship ノ petnames — little doll . baby

aventurine ノ

if you know him by his alias “aventurine”, he’s most likely not showing his true self to you. no, not by chance — he knows well this isn’t something you would overlook. he is hesitant to be sincere around you, as if only your presence alone could compel him to abandon his deceit and masks altogether…

maybe, just maybe, there’s a possibility that he will reveal his secrets between heated kisses and desperate squeezes your sides, almost melting into his desire, and his purple gaze is filled with an insatiable fire. but when everything’s all done, you wonder if he can still remember the thing you two share behind the door.

with laughs and playful rolls of his eyes, he tells you that it’s a non-committal relationship, satiating your pouts with expensive gifts and golden compliments. and yet, and yet, when he’s away from you for too long, he dives back into your embrace like a famished man, just to lap on your lips for hours after, in those nightly escapades full of pleasure, lust, and saccharine promises.

“will you love me? will you stay with me?”

“please, stop lying. i want you close. always.” when he hears how your breath catches, when your knees grow weak and wobbly, and when the tiny pants fill the air between you two, he never lets go, making sure you feel how his fingers dig into your hips, pressing his palms to the warm flesh beneath, creating marks of red and purple that disappear when morning comes.

seemingly lost in thought until a certain sound snaps him out of his stupor. he realises that you’re crying, holding his face with shaky hands, but there’s also a gentle smile gracing your features. his body stiffens, chest tightening so suddenly that it seems suffocating, just by seeing you cry and ask for him.

but there is nothing you can say, even if you want to pour your heart and soul into him. if he could only do the same in exchange…

his laugh rings, coming straight from his stomach and ending deep, rich, and hoarse in his throat. his hand snakes up to ruffle your hair gently as his lips kiss your forehead in a brief peck before falling down to plant another one on your jaw, then another, another, until he reaches the tip of your nose, where he lingers longer than before, covering you in even more butterfly nibbles.

“is this the gift you want the most? to know my name?”

boothill ノ

with a pearlescent smirk of spikes like death itself, he smiles upon you. he greets you in his arms, his shirt barely shielding you from the hard surface of the metal plates. the cyborg presses himself against you, trapping you within his embrace, until you push your bare front against his chest — warming the artificial body and breathing in his scent as you look up at him.

when he notices you whimper his name so sweetly, he can’t help but bring up his right hand and hook his fingers beneath your chin to guide your eyes to his own. has he forgotten how soft love can be, not burning like regret and hunger for revenge.

“hey,” he hums in that low, raspy tone, which sends shivers running across your back. “baby, does it feel good?” he whispers into your ear, letting you hear each syllable forming on the tip of his tongue. “do you think you’ll be able to handle all of it?” he adds, emphasising the last two words as he runs one of his fingers down until it taps your entrance, slipping into you again just to tease you, to see how you squirm within his grip and react to every brush of his lips against your neck.

he uses his free hand to pull your leg up, circling your thigh around his waist for good measure, imagining how it must feel when such a soft creature drapes over his synthetic form.

the way your knees clench against his torso makes his systems overheat, he believes, but perhaps it’s just because of the excitement flowing through his, what he still likes to call, veins, and the rush of heat shooting right between his legs, where he wishes he still could sense the thrill of getting aroused for real.

even if the man who is now nipping at your sensitive spot isn’t quite human, he doesn’t seem to be any different to you — his frame quivering from anticipation and something much, much deeper than that, something primal. fake blood pumping mad, sparks going along the wires from the mental exertion, and it seems like his lips melt into yours, just as wet and hot as the slick dripping from your folds and slathering his fingers.

he shifts to press your asscheeks flush to his groin, moving slowly, smoothly as his mouth lingers over your collarbone, savouring each gasp and shivering whine you offer him. he murmurs praises right into your skin.

“just like that, baby. i don’t remember when i was this happy… so keep showing me those expressions of yours.”

sunday ノ

he is careful not to mark you, because hickeys would immediately give the affair between you two away. the ones right under the edge of your clothes are quite inconspicuous, so unless someone pays special attention, they will remain undiscovered. you’re not allowed to tell anyone — this love is even sweeter when engulfed in mystery. he keeps things discreet for your sake and his own, knowing that a scandal would damage both of your reputations irreparably.

if you want to indulge the young leader of the oak family by playing the innocent, cute type, do so in moderation. this isn’t because he gets off on purity fetishes — quite the opposite. becoming more frustrated than anything, because your image goes against the reality he sees and the desires you stir within his soul.

when it comes time for him to act, he shows no grace to such an imaginary concept. whether you’re begging him for relief or whimpering beneath him helplessly, he finds joy in denying you just to make you writhe in sweet agony.

it’s not unheard of for sunday to hurt you during the shared nights, but he prefers to be gentle most of the time. still, if you ever tempt him into treating you rough, you’ve opened yourself up to being left unable to walk without feeling sore.

“my little doll, you asked for it yourself. don’t whine now that you can’t take any more of it…” he coos with a click of his tongue at the view before him — legs parted and his thumb flicking against your clit just right next to his cock parting your incandescent folds.

the very tip of his shaft remains lodged inside while his hips grind hard into yours, ensuring that he feels every wet stroke and inch of heat clenching around him as you struggle to contain it all. one hand grabs onto your waist, digging nails in enough that they leave impressions, while the other arm secures itself under your shoulders as he lies atop your chest and takes what he wants from you.

even in this position, sunday makes sure his lips never part from yours. he could easily place them anywhere else to get off — his neck is flushed a pretty pink with your desperate marks all over it, your nipples erect and sore from him rolling them between his fingers — but your mouth is all he desires. every thrust inside you brings the two of you closer until the kaleidoscopic ecstasy intertwines your bodies in perfect harmony.

#writing ノ #boothill x reader #boothill smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #star rail x you #hsr x you #fem reader #sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut #sunday x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut

[lovemomhatepolice]

inCHident - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: drunk! reader and Kelly, English is my second language!

type: fluff (funny? i hope so)

word count: 1k

summary: there is nothing funnier than you and your good friend Kelly Piquet, with whom you imitate your partners after alcohol and their famous action of 11 years ago...

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

“You know what?” You laughed, uncertainly walking down the stairs hand in hand with your boyfriend Charles.

“I'm listening to you, baby,” the man replied, holding you carefully by the elbow and waist.

Your head was spinning. The amount of alcohol on that day probably overcame you too much, or at least at that moment. Partying with Formula One drivers after races was something you loved. That atmosphere, that closeness of everyone together, the successful partying… well, and your beloved girls who proudly stood by their boyfriends as you did.

“You're a good boy,” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “Really, I've never had a better one in my life.”

Charles giggled under his breath, well aware of your condition. Ay, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you in it, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, in that case I'm glad,” he replied, helping you up the last flight of stairs at Max and Kelly's temporary lodging for this trip.

That's where the two of you held your after-party after a good partying at the club. You didn't often do this, as mostly everyone was already tired after the fun at the first place, but today quite a few of you still had a lot of energy in you and you definitely couldn't let it go.

“But really Charles.” you said, stopping in front of the stairs.

You were then standing in a place somewhat isolated from the room where all the rest who had come with you were sitting. They were not all drivers, on the contrary, you ended up with about ten people. The rest simply let go of further fun and either returned by plane to their homes or to their hotel rooms.

That's why hardly anyone could catch the fact that you managed the “bathroom” task, which earlier caused a lot of laughter. Leclerc just didn't want to let you go up the stairs alone, and heck knows - you could still fall down them in those heels.

“Really what?” he laughed, grabbing you by the waist the moment you threw your arms around his neck.

“You really are a good boyfriend. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have peed there, it was a must,” you whispered in his ear as if it were a secret, which brought a smile to his face.

“Mhm” he muttered, stroking your hips through the thin material of your dress.

You moved closer to him and kissed him lightly, grinning into his mouth at the same time. However, you were soon interrupted by a shout from Kelly, who, unbeknownst to you, suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

“[Y.N] I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A LONG TIME!!!”.

You quickly turned around, abandoning your boyfriend's embrace, and threw yourself into the arms of the brunette, who stood behind you with her arms spread out. The hallway was filled with your squeals.

“Kelly, how I love you! You are so beautiful today, what am I saying? You are beautiful every day,” you replied, giggling.

You and the girl moved towards the living room and sat close to each other on the couch. Charles moved behind you, however, sat on the armchair next to you. He was well aware that he didn't even have a lift at that moment, when you continued to be giggling and in each other's embrace.

Everyone in the room was listening to some story by Lando, who was telling it with great passion, but you were in your own world. You whispered something in each other's ear, burst out laughing afterwards, paid each other compliments, and much more. It did not even cross your mind that Max was not in the room. You only found out when he entered the living room in a down jacket and looked at you and Kelly with a surprised look.

“Max, what happened?” asked Oscar, giggling under his breath at the sight of Verstappen.

Max shrugged off his jacket, depositing it on the couch behind you, making the brunette hiss from the touch of cold on her warm skin.

“I thought she went out...” the man began, but was not given the chance to finish, as he was interrupted by his girlfriend.

“NO, HE'S JUST UNFAIR,” she began to say loudly, grabbing your hand, which you quickly picked up on. You loved to laugh at your boyfriends. "I'm leading, he want to pass, he push me, I push him back and after he push me off the track. JUST NOT FAIR"

"Thank you, thank you Max" you replied, pretending to hold the microphone.

A volley of laughter went throughout the living room, and you could feel Lando's phone pulled out on you, which was most likely recording you, but you didn't pay much remark to it. So did Charles, who measured you with his eyes as intensely as Max did.

Kelly rose on the couch, catching in her hand the remote control that lay on the coffee table, and pressed it to her lips, sitting cross-legged. The girl tilted her head toward you and raised her eyebrows slightly, lending authenticity to the “interview.”

“Charles. What's happend with emm Max?" She asked and put the remote control to your lips, encouraging you to use it, like a real microphone.

You looked at Max, who was standing behind his girlfriend with a disbelieving face, and burst out laughing, but quickly stepped into your role again and put on a serious face. Just like fifteen-year-old Charles, giving an interview at the time.

"Nothing, just an inCHident... on the race" You replied, shaking your head in a familiar way.

“I think I just cried,” replied Lando, choking back his own laughter and wiping away the tears that really did trickle from his eyes.

Everyone in the living room laughed, including you and Kelly. Well, okay, maybe not everyone. Max and Charles looked at each other in disbelief, time and again shifting their gaze to you.

“I can't believe it's been twelve years and people continue to remind us of this,” muttered Charles, trying to break through the loud laughter and applause in the room.

All he got in response was a pat on the shoulder from Max, who took the seat next to him, and they both looked at the rest of their friends, wondering where in their lives they had gone wrong that they had chosen such people...

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

I hope it brought at least a slight smile to your face. AND what more can I say? happy (but belated) inCHIdent anniversary!

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot

[heeliopheelia]

GET HIM BACK! (s. jake)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: making out, skin marking, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, brief hair pulling, choking, slight bulge kink, degrading, praising too, slight exhibitionism, facial, cursing

word count: 3.3k

synopsis: 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰

note: i really hated the build up to the one i posted before so i rewrote it as promised... sorry for the confusion guys ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

“Your parents home?” Jake breaths out the words right into your mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

It’s been mere three minutes since you first heard his loud and obnoxious bike speeding down your quiet street. He’s careless and tact-less as always, and for some reason that’s what draws you in even more. 

He never keeps you waiting long. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s always one foot out the door of wherever he is, always waiting for a single call or text from you. He knows what he wants and is always vocal about it, a go getter type of a man. 

So it was expected to have him climb up the low roof of your porch and hear his gloved hand knocking on your window not even ten minutes after you texted him a not so innocent wanna come over?. 

As if that was even a question. Of course he wants to come over, wants to see you any chance he can get. He doesn’t need to think for a second to grab his helmet and ride to wherever you are, so needy for him. He’s known you for less than two months – met you at a party and kept hooking up weeks after, and yet here he is, wrapped around your finger, with nothing else in his mind but you.

You’re not much better yourself, dreaming of his beaming face every night that you somehow don’t end up spending with him. You’ve grown attached to him, so attached that the tearing inside your chest becomes more hurtful whenever you’re not with him, day by day he takes a firmer grasp of your feeble heart.

Your hands are grasping onto his worn out t-shirt, kissing him greedily and breathlessly as he giggles into your mouth, pulling you closer and closer into his chest. 

“They came back an hour ago,” you answer, raising on your toes to make the angle more comfortable for the both of you. 

Slowly, he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to the other one. “That’s kinda inconvenient, no?” He asks, nosing at your cheek and you close your eyes and nod your head, melting as the leather of his glove brushes against your skin as he lifts your chin up with his fingers.  

His warm lips are on yours again, hand pulling your face upward to leave you breathless in a matter of seconds. “Wanna go out with me?” He whispers in your lips. He hums when you shake your head. “No? Jay’s party’s still going. We could go, hm?” He kisses you again even when you shake your head no. “Wanna just stay here?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out quietly, eyes never meeting his. 

“Okay, as you wish, baby,” Jake smiles into your lips. “I don’t mind. Anywhere with you is good.”

Before you get the chance to swoon over his words even more, he’s pushing you backwards and against your dresser, putting his helmet down on it before caging you in between his flexing arms. He kisses you dizzy then, angling his face to the side to press and suck on your lips better.

It’s so Jake-like to make you forget about all of your surroundings, to kiss you into oblivion until your lips are swollen and burning. You never complain – why would you when you know you can only have him for this summer, before college starts again and you’ll be out of your hometown for another year. You always take him in, again and again, because you’re scared you’ll wake up from this dream too soon and never see him again. And you can’t let that happen. 

This time he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, the warm muscle working against yours. Your hands finally relax from where they’ve been clutching onto his black top so desperately, only to travel up into his hair. You tug on it gently, feeling the slightly sweaty strands underneath your fingertips. 

Jake pulls you flush to him, pushes his hips into yours for any type of fraction and groans lowly in his throat when he gets what he’s been craving for for the past hour. 

“Couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see me, baby?” He teases, but you’re nodding your head quickly before he even has the chance to finish the sentence. He smiles into your lips as your desperate fingers pull his shirt up and off of him, leaving you pressed to his toned chest. 

The two of you messily make your way to your bed, bare of any duvets and blankets as it’s too hot to sleep under any. You fall on top of him and part your lips only to latch onto his neck, tongue lapping over the bite marks you leave afterwards.  

Jake chuckles at your feverish suckling onto his skin, never objecting to being marked by you. He tugs on the leather gloves with his teeth, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor, fingers immediately going down to follow your lead and dispose of your top. You’re only wearing underwear underneath the big t-shirt you sleep in and the sight makes Jake’s mouth water. He runs his hands over every inch of your burning skin, impatiently unclasping your bra as you’re still busy with his bruised neck. 

You pull away, visibly pleased with yourself, then lift yourself on your arms and smother his swollen lips again. Jake grunts, kissing you almost just as fervently, hands going lower and lower until he grabs a handful of your ass and rolls his hips up into yours. 

You let out a whimper at that, an even louder one following when his slim fingers skim over the soaked cotton of your panties. 

“You need to be quiet, doll,” he chuckles breathlessly, drowning the sounds you make with his lips when he slips his fingers underneath the fabric and gets a feel of your slick pussy. “I don’t think we would want your parents walking in on us like that, hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stumble out, shifting as you’re laying flat on his chest, face buried in his collarbone and eyes fluttering when his moves only grow bolder. You shudder slightly, feeling his long digits teasing your clit with butterfly touches. 

“Ease up, pretty girl,” Jake coos, other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you steady when the first of his now soaked fingers slips inside your tight hole. You nuzzle into him further, breath becoming unsteady as you whine quietly. He moves his hand, burying it deeper and skimming it over your walls. 

Couple seconds later he adds in the second finger, the heel of his palm pressing to your clit and making you jolt slightly in his firm hold. He strokes inside you slowly, feeling you progressively getting wetter with his every push. You’re panting, hot breath hitting his skin and making his dick twitch in his pants. 

He’s plunging his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squeezing him and stretching out his lips with a satisfied smile. You can’t help but buck into the air in the little space that Jake gives you, when he picks up on his pace. His fingers thrust in and out of you, one by one, never losing their rhythm. 

Curving his fingers, his knuckles brush against the spongy insides of your hole, making you moan shakily. 

“You good?” He asks, the hand on your waist caressing you gently. 

You sigh, hands reaching up to squeeze his shoulders. “Yeah,” you whisper because that’s all of your voice that you can muster. 

“Yeah?” He can’t help but tease and you can hear the grin that’s plastered on his pink lips. But this time you only respond with a nod of your head. 

With your face buried in his skin, hands wrapped around his neck tightly, you know you’re cumming when the warm wave hits your stomach breathlessly. You’re whimpering in his collarbone, really trying your hardest to keep quiet, but with the twitching pleasure spreading through your body, and his hard bulge pressing into your stomach, it’s quite difficult to stay sane. 

Jake gives you a second to breathe before removing his dripping fingers and unbuckling his pants with it. He somehow manages to shake out of his jeans while keeping you steady on his chest and you shiver when you can feel his warm cock resting between your bodies now. 

“Stay still for me, baby,” he coaxes you before shifting you on his hips. 

Next second, you can feel his tip prodding at your sensitive pussy and he glides his cock between your glistening folds, coating it in your slick. He readies you with a squeeze at your waist, and slowly starts sinking his length inside of you.

“Wait, Jake-,” you choke on your words when he buries himself entirely inside of you, stretching you out and making you lose your composure completely. “I’m still s-sensitive,” you mumble out, about to nuzzle your face in his neck when his hands grip your waist. 

“Now, up you go,” he says and lifts you up, making you sit on his hips and take in even more of his cock. 

You moan rather loudly, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from spilling any more sounds. Jake slowly rolls his hips up into you, quiet grunts leaving his own mouth as his hands settle on your hips. He starts guiding you up and down carefully until you’ve fully adjusted to him.

He only lets go once you’ve picked up on a steady pace, bracing your hands on his stomach, the feeling of his hardened muscles making your cheeks heat up. The way your pussy spreads around him is making him go crazy, and now and then he realizes that the combination of feeling you topping him and looking so fucking pretty at the same time, is nothing less than lethal. 

You’re so soft under his hands, soft around his cock, soft hands pressing on his abs – everything about you is so damn soft. You’re making him feel almost too good. To ground himself, one of his hands goes up to your hair and tugs on it slightly, making you arch your back and show your pretty, glistening with sweat neck. 

He grits his teeth when you speed up slightly, eyes misty and sparkling down at him in your dimly lit bedroom. You’re riding him so well, taking his heavy cock with little struggle.

“So good,” he pants out, fingers digging into your ass. “You’re doing so good.”

You can feel your muscles straining whenever you lift yourself up, tired legs making you drop down onto him a little more forcefully than you initially planned but you’re rewarded with his low moan and eyes shutting tightly, long lashes brushing over his cheeks. 

The room feels almost too hot, the house is too quiet for the lewd noises coming out of both of you. Your rhythmic bouncing on his aching cock soon changes to messy grinds as your knees give out and thighs burn. Your movements are shallow and visibly weakened, so to help you up, Jake brings his knees higher and roots his heels into your mattress only to thrust up into you, meeting your hips halfway.

You mewl, your legs twitching when he makes your hole take even more of him. He can feel your slick mixed with his precum seeping out and covering his stomach, and he desperately needs more. 

Swallowed by the haze, you push your hips backwards and try to meet his thrusts, making his moves stutter and a strangled groan bubbles up his throat.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he says through clenched teeth before grabbing you by your hips and pulling you off of him. Before you get the chance to ask what he is doing, you find yourself with your back slammed to the mattress, and Jake’s hands grabbing your calves and throwing them over his shoulders. 

When he enters you again, you feel your eyes rolling back a little but before any sound can make its way out of your throat, Jake’s veiny hand slaps over your mouth as he leans his face closely to yours. Your whimpers are muffled now as he picks up on his previous pace and the now changed position makes your walls clump down on him even fucking tighter. 

“Keep it down. We don’t want your mom barging in and seeing her daughter folded in half like a slut, do we?” His words only make you moan louder as your fingers dig into his toned shoulders. At your reaction, Jake’s lips spread with a sly smile as he raises his eyebrow. “Do we?” He asks breathlessly, watching as your eyes glisten in the dark room. “You really wanna get caught? To let somebody see you like that? Naughty, fucking, girl. Well, there you go.”

His hands leave your mouth and settle on your stomach instead. You just can’t predict his moves anymore, too absorbed in the pleasure spreading through your body, so when he pushes onto your stomach and presses you even deeper into the mattress, a loud moan ripples out of your lips. Jake groans too as he can feel himself moving so deep inside you underneath his fingertips. He pushes onto you even harder. Your head rolls backwards until you’re nearly facing the headboard.

It’s quite difficult to breathe and you’re not sure whether it’s from the stifling summer air that’s gotten into your room or the veiny hand that’s suddenly latched onto your throat. His hot cockhead seems to be hitting everywhere where you need it most. Nothing but dumb squeaks leave your parted lips and he thrives off of every single one of them, even deepening his thrusts to hear them grow louder.

His thighs clash into yours loudly and you yelp when he leans even more forward and the one hand that’s currently not on your throat clutches the headboard tightly. You can’t even do anything when the wood starts rattling against your wall. 

“You like getting fucked like this? Who would’ve thought,” he hums, grinning down at you with the teasing glimmer in his eyes. 

His thrusts are deep, making the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over again. The moans you sob out are like a shot of adrenaline in his veins, better than any drug he’s ever tried and suddenly the thought of having you to himself only for the next week crosses his mind. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to breathe without you now that he’s almost sure he’s addicted to you. 

He works his length deep inside you. Your vision threatens to turn black and you’re already out of breath when he presses onto your throat a little harder. You send him a half-lidded look and he moves his hand away from your throat to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead because nothing can fucking take the sight of your fucked out face away from him. 

Your lips are parted with the ragged breaths leaving them, hands fisting his hair and legs beginning to tremble against his chest.

“So pretty, all for me. All because of me.” You nod thoughtlessly at his words, mind taken over by the feeling of the soon to be approaching high. “So lewd too. Where did your shame go?” 

“C- Close,” is all you’re able to say. You can feel every vein on his cock more prominently with every next thrust of his, all of your senses besides touch evaporating. You can’t even hear any more of his dirty words when your climax hits you like a truck, making you let out a loud moan. 

Jake wraps one of his arms under your waist and lifts you up slightly, now folding you in half and making your orgasm hit twice as hard. He slows his hips down for a moment to help you ride it out, thrusting his dick with deep strokes. 

He’s letting go of you soon enough, quickly forgetting about your sensitive self as he feels the twitching and aching between his legs begin, waiting for his own release. With a groan, Jake braces both of his flexing arms on the headboard and ruts his heavy cock into you feverishly, making you see stars and cry out of overstimulation. 

You have to bite on his shoulder to stop the sudden scream from leaving your throat, your whole body ricocheting with his hard thrusts. Your thighs are drenched and so are his, so the skin slapping against skin sounds even louder than before, leaving the backs of your plush upper legs red and stinging. 

He loves having you like that, limp because he’s fucked you just that good but body no less responsive to all that he keeps giving you. 

“So fucking good,” he repeats himself before abruptly pulling out of your spasming pussy. “Get down here, baby.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you only nod and eagerly pull yourself down on the bed with your wobbly legs. Once you’re lowered enough, Jake angles his swollen cock right above your face and strokes himself quickly, only to couple seconds later cover your face with the thick white ropes of his release. You flinch slightly, closing your eyes as the warm liquid hits your cheeks, lewdly licking everything that’s sputtered over your lips. 

“Oh, fuck!” Jake groans, a little pitchier than before, nonetheless just as pretty. You lift your head up from the mattress and swiftly engulf his leaking tip with your lips, milking him until he’s dry. Jake shudders above you and moans, watching you through almost closed eyes as you suck on his softening cock. 

You pull away when there’s nothing else to take from him and the doe eyed look you’re giving him makes him weak in the knees. He drops down next to you, brushing your hair away from your cum stained face before giggling and picking up the shirt you’ve thrown on the floor. He gently cleans you up with it, then leans forward to drown you with his lips. 

You could kiss him for eternity, be buried with his soft lips on yours. He’s gentler now, pressing his mouth on yours and leaving peck after peck on them.  

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers suddenly, hazy, nose brushing against yours and making you smile the softest smile at him. “There’s never gonna be anyone else like you, YN.”

And with your heart in your throat, you can only swallow harshly and speak through your clenched throat. “Love you too, Jake.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you just stay in the moment. Heavy breaths, gentle touches brushing against each other’s bodies and soft voices making promises you most likely won’t be able to keep.

“You won’t forget about me, right?” You whisper quietly, looking up at him with misty eyes as he glazes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

He shakes his head immediately, flashing you this charming smile of his you’ve gotten so used to over the past two months. 

“How could I?” He’s just as quiet. Then he gently takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest, allowing you to feel the hammering of his heart. “All of this is yours. I’ll wait for you.”

And that’s all you need to hear right now. 

The two of you get dressed, giggling and smiling like fools as there’s nothing much left to say. Your hip is leaning on your dresser when he steps closer and kisses you again, sucking on your lips sensually and slowly, procrastinating as long as he can only to not part with you yet.

His gloves are back on his hands, helmet under his arm as he turns back to you and tries one more time, grabbing your smaller hand in his. “Go out with me now?” 

You don’t know how you’ll be able to face your parents tomorrow. 

You don’t wanna say goodbye to him tonight. 

So with a smile on your lips, you nod your head and climb out of the window – hands intertwined together and his helmet safely tucked on your head.

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

taglist: @luvkpop @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan

#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard hours #jake imagines #jake x reader #sim jake smut #jake sim hard hours #jake sim x reader #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jake x reader #sim jake imagines

[emismunch]

❝ DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED? ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, ex!ellie, heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, moving on, reader going through it, no happy ending y'all, this one has a little kick, ellie is a bit of a dirtbag in this, next time i write for her it'll be the most fluff.

RAYNE RAMBLES ★ wrote this last year after getting cheated on and it's just been sitting in my docs, forever. enjoy my pain?? idk, possible abby x reader sequel

ex!ellie who avoids you for a very long time after the breakup. she wishes it could be amicable between the two of you too, but it can't be. it never will be. ellie made sure of it. all of her belongings are still littered across your apartment, though her scent is gone, you still see her everywhere. you can't bring yourself to remove the framed photos of the two of you hanging across your home. she was happy, or so you thought, and you were. but today was the day. you were letting all of it go and her with it. your roommate had taken it all down for you, the strength to remove the past three years of your life just couldn't be found. 

ex!ellie who doesn't really want to think about the way you'll look at her. her emerald eyes were always your favorite, you used to go on about how much you love them. how soft they looked at you, the light shining beneath them whenever she said something stupid and ellie just waited for your giggle or a hint of it anyway. they used to be kind to you, careful, even calm but it didn't seam to be the case anymore. ellie knew you wouldn't be either — not after she’s hurt you. carelessly, abusing your kind-hearted spirit, turned you to something resembling unbridled rage with a large dosage of resentment. 

ex!ellie who is met with your roommate instead of you, before the door is slammed in her face. she expects to be met with sharp behavior. there wasn't a shadow of a doubt she did. ellie just wished it wasn't your best friend who she fucking hated. ellie never liked them. they never liked her and now she didn't have to hide it. what ellie couldn't stand was that they were right about her. three years in and instead of doing the decent thing, ellie chose to betray you. those closest to you were going to protect you from the enemy at all costs. the only you trust the most and cut you the deepest. as much as she despised it, it was all true. 

ex!ellie who eventually gets you, after you hear her voice carelessly arguing with your friend. you place a box at the entry in front of her feet, before you walk away. ellie peaks through one foot in the door, but then you're already back with the second box. ellie can see the tears in your eyes and you see the guilt in hers. almost shining brighter than the shame. she knows how much it hurts you, her being here, being so close but so unimaginably far away it makes you want to hurl. 

ex!ellie who watches you breathe deeply, your hands clenched into fists. before you're rubbing them at drained eyes, dark circles underneath them. she's to blame for everything you're going through. if she had just been honest from the beginning, maybe the two of you could've been friends and just left your love there. you were nothing but good to ellie, pure like white snow, and now the blood from her hands fell over you, staining you a violent red. you would never be pure again. no. not like before. you wouldn't ever blindly trust anyone just because you simply fell in love. putting yourself out like this again? no, you couldn't do it. 

ex!ellie who tries to speak with you, mouth open, but no words are able to come out. she tried her best to put off this moment, the confrontation of the aftermath, facing the fact she had treated you like an afterthought, but you were more than just a thought ellie had tried to push away. you were a person she had left abandoned. she had promised you the world and caved when the time came to give in. she become everything you feared she would be, tearing you in little shreds of yourself as you tried to piece back what she had broke. 

"you look like you haven't slept." ellie states, not really a question, but she almost phrases it as one. she doesn't have a right to ask. the two of you know she's forfeited knowing you, your life, how you're doing — she's the one whose damned it all. 

"i don't really. not right now at least." you look anywhere but her eyes, your eyes concentrating towards the freckles meticulously scattered along her shoulders, her cheeks, and along her button nose. “anyways, should be everything of yours. i’ll contact dina if anything else shows up.” your tone sharp, clearly cutting through. 

there’s no malice when you utter her girlfriend’s name, but ellie senses you’ll reserve the tone of betrayal just for her. she’s the one who abandoned her commitment to you. 

not dina. 

“can we talk? please?” ellie flashes her beautiful puppy eyes at you, once would make you melt, now you feel like throwing up.

“ellie.” there is it is, ellie thinks, betrayal and brutality laced in the voice who promised her a future. there once had been one, house, kids, a ring. it seems so silly now. it’s a warning the way you speak to her. don’t push your luck, williams. 

she’s with dina. why does she even care? 

she’d never seen you so upset, so vengeful, so tired of her. you weren’t lying when you never said you never wanted to see her again. every single beat of your heart meant it, the emotion cut off when you spoke to her, how you looked at her with this cold look in your eyes. arms crossed over your chest as if looking at her is the most taxing task in the world. 

ellie was supposed to not care. she couldn’t, yet it bothered her you clearly didn’t. 

“i have nothing i want to say, especially to you.” you bark, for the first time, ellie fears there might be a bite. 

“i-i know i fucked up, okay? i just can’t stand the thought of you fucking hating me.” ellie pleads, a longing look in her eyes. 

“well, i never thought i would, so i guess we’re all evolving and changing into horrible people.” you roll your eyes at her, watching as she struggles to pick up the boxes laid at her feet. 

you loath how much you want to help her, but don’t. 

you can’t. 

“you’re not horrible.” 

“well, you are.” your insult slapped her right across the face, the burning sensation stung but what hurt more was knowing you meant every word. 

“this isn’t fair, i know what i did was bad, but i told you the truth. i didn’t lie, i confessed. isn’t it worth for at least, i dont know, a little empathy? something?” ellie sighed deeply, shoulders tense from the altercation with you. “

“you didn’t tell me because you’re a honest person. it’s because i would have found out and you were scared.” you scoff. “fuck you. wanting brownie points for admitting you cheated? go to hell.” 

“what else could i have done? it was already too late.” ellie admits, shame laced in her eyes. you hope she feels every bit of shame for all the hell she’s put you through. 

“i wonder why it was too late?” your sarcasm slicing through the air. ellie finally managed to get a grasp on boxes in her shaky hands as she tried to not crumble under your death glare from hell. “i was the last one to show up at the party to your new fucking relationship. huh, guess i would be one not invited? some weird fucking placeholder until you found something better. right under my fucking nose.” 

she deserves every bit of it. 

painfully, you were met with silence. ellie couldn’t do anything, apologize in a way she hadn’t before, beg for forgiveness, grovel for your compassion. 

you were too angry, too heated, too fucking hurt. there’s only a split second of it, ellie almost missed it, but she saw it clearly. the gloomy blues hidden beneath your beautiful eyes, slowly becoming more evident. you’re trying your best to hide it beneath anger, mask it from her, but she sees it. 

tears building the more your voice escalates and ellie would truly hate herself if she made you cry in front of her, again. she’s can’t see you do it again. it’s the last thing she wants. she can’t keep hurting you. 

dina, fuck. she has to protect her. ellie’s unsure if you’ll lash out on here. you haven’t yet, but breakups pull the worst out of you and she’s fearful for the women she does love. 

“just…don’t take it out on dina, alright? if you wanna be mad, fine. as much as i wish i could fix it, i know nothing i can say or do will earn your trust back. okay?” 

your heart breaks at her instinct to protect dina, how she used to do the same for you. it nearly splits you into an abyss, cracking your soul just where she had nicked it. almost seemed intentional at this point. 

“i would never be mean to her. she didn’t promise me a future together, you did. hope you have lovely fucking life with her.” 

ex!ellie who is met with the wooden door being slammed in her face, nearly kissing her chin. she stayed there long enough to hear you cry, sitting on the concrete to hear the consequences of loving someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend, well now ex. she craved to punch something, someone. you whined, a name quietly dropped from your perfect lips, abby, your fucking best friend. she would be the one to comfort you, pick up the pieces of the wreckage ellie had left you with. it scorned her, letting a flame loose on her skin, with the thought of you with her. but she didn’t get to have feelings, she couldn’t be upset with how you chose to reassemble your sanity. not when she’s the one who broke you. even if it’s with the woman she always feared you love more than a friend.

DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE

#AHHHH PAIN ? #GO AWAY ???!!!????? #yeah ... </3 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie williams angst

[ktgoodmorning]

Goodnight, mi Tana

Aitana Bonmati x adhd!reader

This is just my experience as someone with adhd, I know I don't speak for everyone!

Masterlist

“Baby, do you realize what time it is?” You jumped at the sound of Aitana’s voice suddenly breaking you from your focus on your book. She had been gone most of the day with some friends and you hadn’t heard her come home, let alone come out to join you on the balcony. Your eyebrows furrowed because of course you didn’t know what time it was, but you weren’t sure why it mattered. You had been laying there for a while now, reading and working on your tan, just basking in the beautiful weather.

“I don’t know, three, four O’clock?”

“It’s almost eight! Have you-”

“Eight?!” You jolted up, “How the hell is it eight? I’ve been out here almost the entire day. How did I not notice?!  I haven’t even eaten!” 

You thought you’d been outside for maybe an hour or two, definitely not the whole day. Now you had hardly any time left to do the laundry or any of the other more “necessary” tasks that you put off until you had done some reading. 

In your slightly panicked state, your girlfriend came to join you, taking both your hands in hers to break you from your thoughts and try to calm you down. “It’s okay, love. I can help you get some of that stuff done before we go to bed, and we’ll have plenty of time to finish it up tomorrow.”

You pulled your hands from her hold and roughly ran them over your face with a loud groan. “No, Aita, you don’t understand! I wasted my whole day out here and I still have so much energy because I want to do other stuff but now I need to start winding down to go to bed soon.” 

Aitana was used to you sometimes getting frustrated at yourself for things like this but this was the worst you had been in awhile. It was clear you had no intention of being outside all day but once you got into your book, there was no way of stopping you. It killed her at times to see the way it affected you and how you got so angry at yourself even though you both knew you were doing your best. “Well you’ve still got time, you could start something else tonight and finish it up tomorrow?”

“No! Why would I bother starting it tonight if I can’t just finish it? If I start something else I’m gonna be up late trying to finish, there’s no point.” Your voice had inadvertently raised, something that happened quite a lot and you were both used to at this point. Your girlfriend knew not to take your yelling personally and that it wasn’t her that had you losing your patience, it was entirely yourself. She’d almost prefer if it were her fault though, because at least then she would know how to help. When it was with yourself, there was little she could do.

“Why don’t we just start by going inside and getting you some food? Then we can go from there and see what time it is.”

You gave her a slight nod and allowed her to help pull you up and lead you inside to the kitchen, motioning you to sit down while she got some food out for you. “Any requests?”

“Uggghhhh, no. Nothing sounds good, I’m not even hungry anymore.” You buried your head in your hands, resting on the table as you whined at your girlfriend who was just doing her best to help you. 

“I’ll just get you a little bit of everything then, and I’ll eat whatever you don’t want. At least one of them should be okay.” Atitana was mostly talking to herself, sensing that you had hit a wall where you didn’t feel like talking much and just wanted to focus on regulating yourself. She could see your shoulders rising and falling as you took some deep breaths, but decided to keep working on getting some food together, rather than try to help you calm down right now. She kept a close eye on you while she finished making your food, wanting to make sure you didn’t get any worse. When she set the plate down in front of you, she ran her hand gently over your back to get your attention. 

“Baby, what can I do for you? I really think eating will help but we could go eat on the couch instead, if you want? 

You remained silent but gave her a nod as you pulled your head from your hands and tiredly looked up at her.

 “Oh, baby,” she pushed some hair behind your ear, heartbroken by the helpless look on your face, “Let’s go sit down; I’ll bring your food.”

You followed her out of the kitchen, looking much like a young child who had just been woken from a nap, and laid down on the couch lazily. 

“Do you want me to grab you a blanket before I sit down?” Aitana set your plate down on the coffee table and was now just looking at you expectedly, trying to figure out how to help you. 

“Tana,” your voice was almost a whisper, suddenly much quieter than you normally were. “Could you just lay on me for a few minutes?” 

Her previous face of worry broke into a soft smile, more than happy to fulfill your request. “If I ever say no to that, there’s something seriously wrong with me," she giggled into your neck as she gently laid down on you, both of you instantly relaxing into the contact. 

Both the pressure of her on top of you, along with the sound of her laughter, helped distract you from the anxieties that had been building just moments earlier. It was like hitting control alt delete on your spiraling and making it magically disappear. Suddenly your breathing was calmer, as well as your mind, and you no longer had to worry about all the things you didn’t get done, you had all the time in the world to make sure it all got done tomorrow.

After a few minutes of just laying there, both at peace with where you were at, the Catalan woman’s head popped up to look at you. “Think you’re ready to eat some food?” Her persistence made you smile. She obviously knew that food would help you feel better but didn’t want to push too hard to get you there. 

“Si. Food sounds like a good idea.” Aitana rolled off of you and passed you the plate she had made up, full of a variety of different foods. She knew how picky you got when you were in a bad mood so she made sure there were plenty of things that were always safe bets. “Gracias, Tana. This is perfect,” you leaned over to give her a short kiss, “You know me too well.”

She brushed it off with a small shrug and kissed you again before you started digging into the food in front of you. “Don’t feel like you have to eat it all, I’ll finish anything you don’t want. Then maybe when you’re done you can shower and get changed, and then we’ll put on a movie or something?” 

You groaned, mouth still full of food. “I don’t want to shower, it feels like so much work.”

“What if I say I’ll join you?” You quirked an eyebrow at her, trying to see if she was serious. “I’m not saying anything’s gonna happen, I’m too tired for that. But I’ll still join you if you want?” Your girlfriend watched you continue to shove food in your mouth while you contemplated her offer. 

“If you’re joining, then I’m in.” Her eyes lit up instantly now that she knew her plan would work, just smiling at you and cuddling into your shoulder as you finished your food. Knowing you didn’t like sitting in silence for long, she filled you in on her day and her time with her friends, getting you caught up on everyone’s lives. You normally didn’t like to sit and listen to people without chiming in yourself, but with Aitana, you could do it all day long if you could. Something about the way she would break into little giggles and looked so bright when she talked about the things she loved, just made your heart full. 

You hadn’t even noticed you had just finished the last of your food until she pointed it out to you because you had been far too focused on listening to her story. “Baby, I’ll take your plate, if you go get in the shower. I’ll come join you in a minute, yes?” You responded with a kiss before getting up and helping her up as well. Both going your separate ways until she could join you.

...

After your shower, you both got changed and brushed your teeth together before getting cuddled up under the covers of your bed. 

“Do you want me to put a movie on? We don’t even have to watch, maybe we just put one on in the background while we just cuddle?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect.” You rolled into her side before she even had a chance to respond, chuckling lightly at your sudden clingy-ness. “Don’t put on anything too serious, I’m not planning on paying attention. I’ll probably end up talking through it or falling asleep anyways.” You both giggled at your words. It was true. You almost never made it through a movie and Aitana was always there to tease you about it.

You snuggled into her further, placing your head on her chest as she held you against her. “Maybe I should read a little bit before bed. I didn’t have much left in my book when you came home today, I bet I could finish it.” 

“Amor, I mean this in the best way, but you have over a hundred pages left. If you even look too hard at that book, you’re gonna be up all night trying to finish it. That’s not a good idea. We have training tomorrow.” 

“But Tanaaaaaa. It’s really good and I just think that I’d sleep better if I knew what happened. We only have morning training so if I’m tired I could just take a nap in the afternoon.”

“I understand you want to finish your book baby, but you aren’t pulling any more all-nighters. You need sleep, it’s not healthy.” You only responded with a pout, eyebrows furrowed together, locking eyes with her in hopes that she’d give in to you even though you both knew it wouldn’t work. You were constantly giving her this face yet she rarely gave in, especially if it was something related to your health and well-being. When she only responded with a blank stare, you dropped your head back to her chest to continue chatting.

As soon as you got comfortable again, the two of you immediately fell into conversation about anything and everything. You talked about the transfer window and all the current football news, the book you had been reading and all your thoughts on it, truly everything that popped in your head. Somewhere in the midst of your talking, you realized that the movie Aitana had put on in the background was actually somewhat interesting, making you split your attention between it and your conversation. 

“Baby! Are you even listening?” she tickled your side lightly as a way of bringing your attention back to her.

“I’m sorry, Tana!” You giggled into her neck, hugging your arms around her tightly. “I was trying to listen but look, the movie actually got kinda good!”

“You never get through entire movies! And now when we finally get smart and put on a boring one you suddenly pay attention?!” She wasn’t actually mad at you, the huge smile on her face made that incredibly clear. You just beamed back at her. The two of you probably looked ridiculous as you both smiled at each other from ear to ear, saying nothing while the movie continued in the background. 

“Aita, you should really pay attention, it’s good!” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you before following your attention back up to the television. The two of you managed to snuggle even closer together, if that was even possible. You still talked here and there when you thought of anything but were mostly focused on the movie. 

It wasn’t long until you felt Aitana’s breaths evening out underneath you. When you lifted your head to look up at her, you found her sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from her busy day. You moved slowly in hopes of not waking her up, trying to reach for the TV remote to turn it off and go to bed. Of course the second you moved though, her eyes fluttered open and a look of confusion crossed her face. 

“What are you doing, baby? I’m watching!” Her accent was thicker than usual, giving away her little nap no matter how much she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. The way she pretended to hide the fact that she was falling asleep just so you could finish the movie made you smile. She was always doing things like this, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for it. 

“Aita you’re falling asleep. We can finish it tomorrow night, it’s okay. Let’s go to bed.” 

“No! No, I’m not falling asleep!” 

“Okay, well I’ll just turn it off anyways and we can keep chatting.” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you, obviously knowing what you were up to, but still getting further settled under the blankets. You reached over to turn off the lights and plug in your phone before you ended up laying face to face with Aitana. Your legs were tangled together in the sheets and the two of you were just looking at each other, sharing a soft smile. Her eyes were wide open now that she had woken from her little nap, but you couldn’t decide if she was actually feeling that awake or if she was just trying to hide the fact that for once, she was the one who drifted off during a movie and not you. 

“We should really be sleeping right now, Tana. We have early training tomorrow and we both know you like getting to bed early.” You could function just fine with little to no sleep, or at least you liked to think so, but Aitana was a different story. She was much more strict on her sleep routine and would definitely feel it if there was a change to it. 

“I know…” she trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “… wait! Remember what Ingrid was telling us about their anniversary coming up?”

“Oh my god, yes! Do you think she’s actually gonna do it? I know Mapi would love another cat but I just can’t see Ingrid going through with it! Can you?!” 

And there you were. Both exhausted, both needing to be up early in the morning, both excitedly gossiping about your best friends. This was normal for you but normally you were the one who started it and kept you both up later than you planned, not your girlfriend.

It was obvious that Aitana wasn’t used to being up this late when her accent became harder for you to understand and her words started slurring together. It slowly became an intertwined mix of English, Spanish, and Catalan that you had no hopes of comprehending. 

“But Bagheera is su bebé, así que tal vez no want someone else para robar la atención and maybe- wait why are you laughing at me?” 

“Tana, you’re half asleep and making no sense. You’re not even gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, I really think you should go to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired, though.” her grumbling was hardly audible as you just shook your head at her, amused by the reversal of your typical roles. 

“Okay well I’m gonna go to sleep, you can keep talking if you want, okay?” her only response was an incoherent mumble as you curled up into her side and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, mi Tana. I love you.”

I really like my other adhd!reader one better but we'll see. I don't love this one. I wouldn't be shocked if I still do more like this though.

Requests are always encouraged! I'm starting to run low on ideas lately!

Masterlist

#wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingaitana #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

[tojisun]

dbf!simon (and erin)—

you stare at your phone, lips pursed, as it continued to sputter, simon’s contact photo staring back at you with his little pinched smile. it flickers. the incoming call ends. your phone turns off. then, another one.

you groan as you swipe to receive the call, pressing your phone to your ear as you look back up at the television, not really watching but using it to distract you from the throbbing of your heart.

“still sulkin’, huh?” is what greets you, his voice a steady vibrato.

your hands twitch, the hold you have on your phone getting stronger. you don’t even even get to have the chance to respond when he adds, “c’mon, love.”

“shut up,” you murmur, controlling the anger before it can leak further in your voice. “just. what do you want?”

you hear him sigh from the other end. christ, he’s just becoming more crude, isn’t he?

“i missed y-”

“don’t. simon, just don’t.” you swallow the lump in your throat, feeling the back of your eyes burning. “just tell me what you’re calling for.”

“is it too much to believe that i’m calling you because i missed you?”

you roll your eyes. “yes.”

there is a pause on simon’s end like he is waiting for you to say more, but you wouldn’t. you don’t think there’s anything more to say after–

“i didn’t mean it,” he murmurs, almost indecipherable amidst the static.

you scoff, your hand reaching for the remote control to turn off the television. you sit in silence, ears ringing at the weight of your loneliness. of your hurting.

“i think that that makes it worse, simon,” you say after a while, your voice trembling as tremors racked your body. “it doesn’t even excuse what you said. god simon, you-!” a sob punches itself out from your throat and you jolt, startling as tears begin to pour out.

“i’m sorry.”

is he? is he sorry for making a fool out of you? in front of her, nonetheless. is he sorry for making a fool out of your love, your relationship, because he’s been lying to you all this time?

“you couldn’t even call us for what we were—what i thought we were.”

“…i know.”

you hum, wiping at your cheeks. “of course you do. you let her whisk you away the whole night, after all.” you take in a shaky breath. “don’t even call me anymore.”

“love?”

“goodbye simon.”

you crumple into yourself, your breaths stuttering as tears continue to pour down, staining your cheeks. your lungs feel weak as you battle to breathe in air amidst the cries, but you feel so weak — stripped into nothing but your pain.

betrayal sings at your nerves, almost burning you from the inside.

it hurts. everything hurts.

he’s just one of your many heartbreaks, you know, but this one hurts more. this one hurts differently. your heart caves in, and you feel so hollow even with all the pain that smothers you.

sped through this for no reason other than to hurt myself <3

#dbf!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #suns

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 12

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 15.7 k

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature and dark themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst w happy ending, family drama, panic attacks, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey u pretty people !! hope you're all doing amazing and having the absolute best day. we're back with more drama, messy feelings, and all that good stuff. also, i've updated the trigger warnings (nothing too heavy, promise), but just a heads up that we'll be dealing with some family drama and grief in this one. as always, can't wait to hear what you guys think & thanks for reading and for your amazing support (art by yamada_souko) <3

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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You're a slut.

The words hammered in your skull, matching the aneurysm's grotesque pulse in front of you. Another scalpel slipped into Suguru's waiting hand. Your hands moved mechanically, muscle memory guiding them more than conscious thought.

Normally, that aneurysm would thrill you, excite you, make your pulse quicken. Now, it felt oddly muted. Irrelevant compared to your spiraling thoughts.

You hate him.

You should hate him.

With every fiber of your being, you should despise him.

He pushed you away, again and again, even after that night — after you spilled your heart at his feet. He chose the pills, the numbing haze, the false comfort, the self-serving lies — his fear.

In the end he chose his addiction over fighting against it alongside you. His addiction had won out over the fragile connection you shared — had won over you. 

And that was a bitter pill to swallow.

He made his choice.

And you made yours — to get space, give him space, give it all some space — time — whatever this damn situation needed, you tried to give it, even though it felt like carving out pieces of yourself.

You didn't know it anymore, simply didn't know what was right anymore.

It had been weeks, but the memory of finding him, barely breathing on his bathroom floor, lingered as a physical ache within you. That image refused to fade. 

It was a wound time couldn't heal, a brutal reminder of his choice, of your own, of the love that had become a war you weren't sure you could win.

You weren't sure of anything anymore.

But one thing way painfully clear. Whatever you did, it was all just really a futile, desperate attempt to patch the gaping hole he'd ripped in your heart.

But how could you?

How could you stay away, act indifferent, when every second burned without him?

He's probably high right now, swallowing a pill, grading papers like the perfect professor, so damn good at pretending he has it together while crumbling beneath the surface.

Back to his routine of fake control.

But he has no control.

None.

Forget him. You shouldn't think that. It has to be possible, right? Somehow, forgetting someone must be possible, right? Erasing the memory of him from your veins, from every damn breath you take?

Because if not — how could you possibly go on?

Cruel memories flayed you open. His hand against your cheek, the touch so gentle it made something inside you crumble, even after he literally insulted you in the worst ways possible while fucking you.

But still, the way he'd look at you after — there was a flicker of something desperate and broken burning in his eyes, before he slammed that damn false smile back into place. Your heart clenched at the very thought of it, a fist squeezing something vital and already dead.

But the truth is, you didn't really hate him. No, not really.

Because how could you?

How could you hate him for trying to fix things the only way he knew how?

No.

Not really.

He was a coward, too scared to face his fears, too weak to choose fighting alongside you over the fleeting comfort of his addiction.

No, it was not hatred.

Understanding him made it worse. It twisted the knife deeper, making the hatred you clung to feel empty, useless, leaving only the bitter sting of disappointment.

Somehow, knowing someone's damage made them less a monster, more a tragedy.

Unfair, isn't it?

Because hating him would be easier.

"You okay?" Suguru's voice broke through your haze.

"I'm fine." Zoning out while someone's life hung in the balance was a new low, even for you. You met his gaze. "Sorry."

The stark reality of the situation slammed back into focus. The aneurysm, a grotesque bulge on the screen, pulsed tauntingly. Suguru's skilled hands steadied the fragile tissue around it.

"Want to continue?"

You blinked, unsure if he was joking. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift."

"Gift? From who?"

Suguru arched an eyebrow, a silent answer. Of course. This was Satoru's doing. It was his way, wasn't it? Speaking of unconventional presents. 

But he undoubtedly knew you.

Before you could fully process, Suguru added. "And because I trust you. I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Your gaze was drawn back to the aneurysm. "Okay," you said, the decision settling with surprising ease.

You slid into place in front of the surgical microscope. Suguru moved just behind you to monitor your movements. You took a deep breath, the instruments feeling strangely cold and foreign in your hands.

"Focus," Suguru's low voice rumbled close beside you. "You've got this."

Somehow, with the clip in your hand, the delicate aneurism between your hands, you wondered if Satoru was right — if you loved the thrill of it all — if him and you were the same. 

If that maddening fascination bound you together.

Because as you stared down at the aneurysm, you couldn't deny it — the rush, the adrenaline surge that came from defying death, the intoxicating high of existing on the razor's edge, it was all there, coursing through your veins. 

Were you reckless? 

Satoru's accusation echoed in your mind.

Yet, with each precise maneuver, the thrill intensified. There was a sick satisfaction in holding that much power, in the knowledge that one wrong move and this fragile existence could be snuffed out in an instant.

Here, in the sterile confines of the operating room, adrenaline replaced oxygen. 

And it was undeniably addictive.

Too bad it wasn't enough for Satoru.

"Suguru," you began, your words barely a whisper as you meticulously guided the clip, "do you ever think I'm...reckless?"

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," you muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a satisfying click, the clip snapped shut.

─── ·✧· ───

The water was unusual frigid against your skin.

Suguru scrubbed his hands beside you, the methodical rasp of skin on skin a familiar sound a in the echoing washroom. Finally, he spoke. "I'm proud of you."

"Huh?" You turned to him.

"How far you've come. Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

He meant it kindly, you knew. But his words made your stomach churn. A bright, promising future was the last thing on your mind. Surviving the next hour, the next day, that was your only focus. You mustered a weak smile in response and adverted your gaze.

"How are you doing? Really?"

You couldn't meet his gaze. "Holding up. Somehow."

He observed you. You could feel his concerned gaze on your skin without having to turn your head.

"New semester treating you okay?"

"Bit stressful," you admitted. "I have to retake a few exams." 

"Listen, if you need any help—"

"Thank you, Suguru," you cut him off, turning the faucet with a harsh click off. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me." 

You turned and reached for a towel, desperately needing to put something, anything, between you and his pitying gaze.

He paused, then shut off his own water with a sigh. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," he said, and you hated the sincerity in his voice. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

We?

"Wait, what do you mean?"

Suguru reached for a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

He froze mid-movement, jaw tightening.

Your stomach twisted. Something in his silence, in the way he wouldn't meet your gaze—

Your hands braced against the sink, knuckles white against the cold porcelain. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Suguru's silence was the loudest answer, the pity in his eyes a searing poison. With a sickening clarity, it all fell into place — Satoru's sudden surrender, the way he'd looked at you in the hearing, empty and broken.

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, the cruelty finally unveiled. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

The ground tilted.

He'd convinced Satoru to let you go.

He'd single-handedly shattered the fragile trust you'd clawed back with Satoru, the possibility of fighting this together — gone. All it took was Suguru to destroy it all.

Betrayal burned in your throat.

Satoru may have wielded the knife, but Suguru had guided his hand.

"You had no right," you choked out. "You had no fucking right to do that!"

"No right?" Suguru's voice rose to match yours. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" you shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

"You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity!" You spat the words, raw and dripping with fury. It masked the deeper ache, the knowledge that he wasn't entirely wrong. "You ruined everything!"

Suguru's jaw tightened. He moved closer, his imposing presence forcing you back a pace. "You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Your retreat ended abruptly, your back hitting the cool porcelain of the sink. He remained close, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hand reached out, a single fingertip tracing your jawline in a gesture at odds with the harshness of his words.

"This is for the best," he insisted, his voice rough. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," you hissed, slapping his hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" he trailed off, his voice softening. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"Why are you saying this now?"

"You know damn well why."

His words hung in the air, suffocating, sour.

Months of shared research, of seeing Suguru as a mentor, then a friend—

Suguru destroying your fragile connection with Satoru felt like an unforgivable violation. You knew it wasn't just him. But the pain of it all was too much, clouding your thoughts.

You slowly shook your head, unwilling to accept what he just said, unwilling to even comprehend the implications.

"No," you forced the word out. "You can't—"

"Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

Then, a sharp beep shattered the suffocating tension. Suguru swore under his breath, retrieving his pager. His face went taut as he read the message.

"What is it?"

"Yaga," he said. "Wants to see us. Now."

He met your gaze, dread coiling in your gut. This couldn't be good.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─── ·✧· ───

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" 

Your question rang through the oppressive silence of Yaga's office. Suguru sat beside you, but his presence offered no comfort against Yaga's piercing gaze.

Your fingers clawed into the paper files in front of you. 

Useless words, wasted effort. 

You didn't need to reread them. They were your own words, your own data after all. Your own carefully crafted research project. But it led nowhere. Insignificant results. Pointless.

The pain that these papers in your hand causes was sharper than any scalpel, a wound no surgery could mend. Because this research was fueled by grief. Grief for your father, lost to the cruel, invasive brain tumor that now mocked you from the pages. 

But it was this very research that had gotten you here. 

It caught Suguru's attention, led to his mentorship, and through him — to Satoru. How perverse that your most agonizing vulnerability had opened this door, led you to a love that felt as cursed as your research.

Cruel.

Being forced to revisit this failure, now of all times — it felt like a cruel joke. Your life, it seemed, was a master of cruelty, stripping you bare then pouring acid on the raw wounds.

"Yes," Yaga's voice was devoid of any empathy.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end," you said.

Yaga sighed. "Your research held promise, Dr. Geto never failed to remind me. Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

You glanced at Suguru. The flicker of regret in his eyes was another betrayal you cataloged for later. Facing Yaga again, you tightened your grip on the file until your knuckles ached. You slammed it shut, fighting the urge to tear it to shreds.

"That's not the point. My CAR-T-Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a—generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you." He paused. "Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

My god.

Cold sweat broke out on your skin. You remembered the woman's worried face at the conference, her desperate hope when she learned of your past work. It had felt like a punch to the gut even then, reopening the wound of your own loss. 

Now, her raw grief had been weaponized, a pawn in Yaga's game of securing funding.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape your lips. Research meant nothing to these people. You were but a tool, a means to an end, another cog in their merciless machine. You wanted to scream, to expose their hypocrisy, to rip apart the facade of noble intentions that veiled their greed.

But what would it change? 

Would it expose their callousness, their blatant abuse of a grieving woman? 

No, they held the power.

Maybe Suguru and Satoru weren't so wrong, after all — research, even here, was just another business at its core, tainted by ambition and the pursuit of profit. It made you sick.

"You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga leaned back, momentarily taken aback by your bluntness. An arrogant rebuttal was undoubtedly forming on his lips, when the door crashed open.

Satoru stormed in, his fury barely contained. "What the hell is going on here?"

Yaga's expression hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a...surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

Satoru moved swiftly to stand beside you, his hand settling on the back of your chair. "Cut the bullshit, Yaga," he spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

"Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip." He leaned forward, eyes blazing. "What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

Yaga mirrored his stance, the tension between them a storm about to break. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Suguru, sensing the impending explosion, stepped between them with forced calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Satoru laughed. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He paused, the rage in his voice barely contained. "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, the veneer of civility slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

Yaga's lips thinned. "Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned in, his voice a dangerous quiet. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent...it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

"Director, Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority," Suguru stepped in.

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent...setbacks." He opened his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

His gaze fixed on you over his glasses as he turned the screen, revealing your student record, the failing grades glowing a damning red. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

The room imploded. 

Satoru's grip on the chair threatened to split the wood. "You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here...which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

Suguru shot to his feet, a rare crack in his composure. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

But the words were already forming in your mouth, driven by a bone-deep weariness. "I'll do it," you declared, the words surprisingly firm. "I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent, every eye fixed on you. 

It felt awful to give in, but with everything going on, it was just too much — giving in was easier for now.

There were other battles to save your strength for. And the battlefield of Satoru's furrowed brow and those piercing blue eyes that bore into you was a battlefield that already took all your strength.

Someone needed to be practical here, and that wouldn't be him.

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week."

This week?

"No," Satoru interjected. "That is not up for debate. We start next week."

Surprise flickered across Yaga's face, quickly replaced by irritation. Even Suguru seemed taken aback by Satoru's sudden defiance.

"This week," Yaga repeated.

"Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

He wouldn't. He couldn't possibly—could he?

Satoru couldn't know about your father's death day — the reason why starting this week was unthinkable. You didn't tell him. But why, then, was he so vehemently pushing back?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

"And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?" Suguru asked.

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat.

"Well, look at the bright side, Dr. Gojo. I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about?" Yaga's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?"

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

"Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

The air in the room turned to lead. 

You couldn't breathe. The walls of Yaga's office seemed to close in, suffocating. It had been the right decision, perhaps the only one — a tactical retreat. But why the hell was it so hard to breathe then?

It was just too much. 

Too many battles, too many impossible choices. 

Your father's memory, a constant ache turned into a weapon used against you. Yaga's insatiable ambition crushing you. And Satoru—

But worst of all was the gnawing, unyielding guilt underneath it all — that by returning to this research, you were betraying your own principles, the memory of the very person who had inspired you to pursue this path in the first place.

Your vision became blurry. 

You desperately needed to escape. "If you'll excuse me," you managed. With that, you turned and fled Yaga's office, barely registering the startled faces of the men left behind.

─── ·✧· ───

You needed air, distance, anything to clear your head.

The hallway became a suffocating tunnel. Students and staff blurred past, mere obstacles in your path. Your heart pounded against your ribs.

"Wait!" Satoru's voice, his footsteps echoing behind you .

Bursting out into the courtyard, you gasped for air. Rain a harsh slap against your skin. Blurred shapes of green and gray whipped past as you ran. You didn't care where you were going, just that you were getting away. 

Away from Yaga, away from the project, away from the crushing weight of it all.

Satoru called your name. Barely heard him. Legs burning, lungs screaming, but you pushed, ran. You wouldn't stop. Couldn't. Didn't want to see him — not now.

Somehow, you found yourself in an unfamiliar part of campus, and then — a wall. Looming, brutal. A dead end.

Sobs tore from your throat. You were cornered.

This is where it all led, isn't it?

Failure. 

Betrayal. 

And the sickening knowledge that you were complicit in your own downfall.

And with Satoru's relentless pursuit, the final, crushing blow would soon fall. His concern, his pity, would be the last straw, shattering what little remained of your composure.

"Please—" His voice was close now. 

Your eyes slammed shut, but it did nothing to drown out his voice, the panic. Rain plastered your hair to your face, soaking you to the skin.

Satoru paused, a few feet away.

"Just leave me alone, Satoru. Please, I can't—can't—" The words dissolved into another ragged sob.

"I know, but I'm here." He took a step closer, and panic flared within you.

Your world narrowed. The panic attack was inevitable. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, each inhale a struggle against the invisible constrictor squeezing the life out of you. Your icy fingers trembled, useless and numb.

No. 

No.

No.

No. 

This couldn't happen. 

Not here, not now. 

Yet, your body betrayed you.

Without conscious thought, you simply sunk down onto the rain-soaked concrete. Your hand pressed against your chest, a desperate attempt to quell the frantic thudding of your heart, a frantic plea for it to slow, to obey.

Satoru crouched before you, the rain dripping from his white hair. Then the weight of his warm jacket settled over your shoulders as you choked on another breath.

"I...I just need..." Your voice cracked. "Need to sit. Can we just...just sit for a second?"

"Yes. Of course. Whatever you need."

He didn't touch you, didn't offer empty promises. He simply held the jacket over your head like a shelter, shielding you as best he could against the downpour. His own white shirt clung to him, soaked through.

His gaze, those impossibly blue eyes, never wavered. You felt exposed, like your every broken piece was on agonizing display for him to witness. It was unbearable.

You hated it.

Hated him for seeing you like this. 

Hated that he refused to look away. 

Suddenly, his hand covered yours, gently pressing it flat against the hard plane of his chest. You inhaled sharply, but then felt the calm rhythm of his heart beneath your palm.

"Focus on me," he whispered. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

You struggled to pull air into your burning lungs. His steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the drenched shirt, became a desperate focus.

Slowly, with each ragged breath, the crushing weight of panic slowly began to ease. Your racing heart slowed, though your body still trembled. You weren't sure how long you sat there, just you and Satoru, in the downpour. 

As the tears subsided, as the world finally stopped spinning, you felt the faintest flicker of something akin to calm. Not the absence of pain, but the strange feeling of calm, of home — something you always felt with him.

Bittersweet resignation to the absurdity of it all washed over you. 

All his attempts to distance himself, to push you away — and here you were, thrown together once again by forces far beyond your control. You hadn't sought this, hadn't chased after him. Yet, life it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.

Work together, fall apart, suffer, repeat.

A bitter laugh escaped you.

His gaze was on you, wary, perhaps gauging whether the weight of it all had pushed you beyond the brink of sanity, whether you'd been broken beyond repair — whether he was the one responsible for all this.

"Pointless, wasn't it?" 

"What?"

"All that effort of yours. Pushing me away, only to end up here. Back to square one. Stuck on this damned project, pretending we don't want to fuck each other on the lab table."

His brow furrowed. "Are you losing your mind?"

You tilted your head, considering the question. "Tell me, was it easier? Loosing me, breaking my heart, than facing whatever it is that terrifies you about being with me?"

Silence fell.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "I thought it would be, but now, I'm not so sure anymore."

Your breath hitched, the first inhale that didn't feel like a shard of glass cutting into your lungs. "We can do this, right?"

"We can try, if you want to" he said, his voice thick. "Suguru and I—we can handle most of it—"

"No. I mean, we can do this. Together. Work side by side, like professionals."

"We have to try." He swallowed, a muscle in his jaw working. "If you want me to...I can stay behind the scenes. Crunch data, Suguru can lead in the field—"

"No. No shortcuts. We do this together, all of us. You, me, Suguru."

"But you don't have to. You're a student. This mess...it's not yours to clean up."

"You think I can't handle it?"

Hypocritical, maybe, after your breakdown, but you didn't want his protection, not in this way. You wanted to fight your own battles, for better or worse. Stubborn pride — a desperate denial of how the grief, the unrelenting struggle, chipped away at you.

Perhaps he saw that, saw the fragility behind your brittle facade. Yet, his concern felt like a form of surrender — an acknowledgment that you were both fighting losing battles.

Satoru sighed, his hand raking through his soaked hair. "No, damn it, that's not it. I just—hate the idea of you having to—"

"And you always get to decide for me, right?" 

His reaction was immediate. Hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze, the touch surprisingly gentle. "You infuriating, stubborn woman. Stop trying to play the goddamn martyr. For once, just let me help you."

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" 

His grip tightened, a flicker of anger replacing the worry. "This isn't the same. You're not me. Sukuna's fucked-up game, Yaga's ambitions, this whole mess—none of it is yours to bear."

"You're right, we're not the same, no," you snapped. "I don't run when things get hard."

"God, you're so full of it! Your precious ego won't let you admit you need anyone, even someone who actually cares about you."

"My ego? Don't you think it's a little hypocritical to pretend you care after pushing me away?"

"You stupid woman." His anger faltered. "I'll always care, always look after you. Because I can't stand it—I can't watch you hurt. I—" 

He trailed off, the confession choked back. Slowly, tentatively, his thumb traced a line across your cheek.

"Let me protect you," he whispered. "Please, just let me keep you from the worst of it."

"And what about you? Who looks after you?"

He held your gaze, the intensity holding you captive. 

You'd seen glimpses of this before — flashes of protective fury or moments of vulnerability. But never like this. Never so raw, unguarded. He looked at you as if you held the key to his survival, as if your very existence was both his lifeline and his undoing.

Love. 

It was the word you choked back, the emotion you refused to give voice to. Yet, it hung heavy in the rain-drenched air. It blazed in his eyes, a confession too raw to be contained.

His touch lingered, then retreated. 

He stared at you, the rain making it impossible to tell if the glistening sheen on his face was water or something other.

"You have to stop looking at me like that," you whispered.

"I know," he said, burying his face against his shoulder for a moment. "Just because we can't be together...It doesn't mean I've stopped loving you."

You took a deep inhale, your heart a clenched fist in your chest. 

"You know, in those four weeks—," you began. "I wondered if it was worth it, the pain, the hurt, for those sweet moments of being with you, or if it would've been better to never meet you at all."

"And did you find an answer?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "Part of me wished you'd just call me, say it was all a cruel joke." 

"I wanted to but—"

"I know," you cut him off. 

He didn't need to say it. 

You didn't want to force the confession from him, didn't want to break something inside him you couldn't bear to see shatter, didn't want to see him crumble under the weight of his choices. 

There was no need for him to voice the regret, the guilt. 

You knew it, saw it in his eyes.

"I know," you repeated softly.

He was suffering too, you knew that. But a wounded part of you needed him to feel the pain, to feel the burn of it, to understand the depth of the wound he'd inflicted.

"It's okay," you said. "But I can't pretend I don't sometimes wonder how you could do this to me. Why you took it so far. You knew it would end like this, that you weren't strong enough, you knew, didn't you? And still, you let me confess...all while knowing you couldn't commit."

"I—," he started but you weren't done.

"I'm not finished," you said, a hand raised to silence him. "I wanted to scream, to rage, to make you feel my pain. But I kept quiet, kept my distance. Because I knew you weren't ready to face this. And I won't force you to."

Silence fell, broken only by the relentless rain.

"I didn't deserve this, Satoru," you forced yourself to say. "You know it."

There was no accusation, no plea for explanation. Just a simple truth, a raw wound laid bare in the unforgiving rain. 

"I know."

"I don't know if I can forgive you yet, Satoru. I don't think I'm strong enough right now."

He reached out, gently brushing a wet strand of hair from your face. "It's okay," he said. "I'll wait. Forever, if I have to."

"And I'll wait for you," you echoed. "Until you're ready."

You took a deep breath. In this rain-soaked moment it seemed, all that remained were raw truths and a shared pain that bound you together even as it tore you apart. 

You searched his face. "How are you? How have you been?"

"I...managed." 

Convincing as always.

You could see the toll this had taken on him, the shadows in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Satoru, in his stubborn pride, would rather break than admit vulnerability.

Perhaps you weren't so different after all.

You tilted your head. "And how's that working for you?"

His gaze drifted to the ground.

With a sigh you slowly, hesitantly, reached for his hand. 

His hand was cold against yours, damp from the persistent rain. You traced the faint scars on the back of his hand, the ones you'd stitched. His fingers twitched, then hesitantly found yours, intertwining with a desperate vulnerability that startled you. 

It was familiar, his touch, his skin, yet undeniably foreign at the same time.

He looked up, dark circles smudged beneath his eyes. And so, beneath the relentless rain, you simply sat.

Words felt unnecessary. 

There was no need for declarations, no need to dissect what had gone so horribly wrong. The truth was in the shared breath, the tremble of your intertwined fingers, the unspoken ache that you both shared.

You knew, with a certainty that transcended logic, that your souls were intertwined in a way that refused to be undone. Yet, that same knowledge brought a crushing weight, a reminder impossibility, the painful chasm you couldn't seem to bridge.

Too bad love wasn't enough. 

"I love you," he finally whispered. "As long as I breathe, I'll love you."

"I hate you," you said.

He sighed, with a hint of a defeated smile. "Come on," he said, gently pulling you to your feet. "Let's go home."

─── ·✧· ───

Grief isn't pretty.

It's not elegant tears and soft whispers.

Sometimes it's a relentless ache, a gnawing emptiness throbbing beneath the thin veneer of forced normalcy. 

You threw yourself into work, anything to outrun your thoughts.

You barely slept, barely ate. You wrote, then erased, then wrote some more.

Endless cups of coffee and the frantic tapping of your fingers on the keyboard replaced sleep. Your apartment became a prison, phone buzzing with unanswered calls, dishes piling up, the world outside your window a meaningless blur.

You existed on a ragged edge, refusing to let your mind wander. Every sting of grief, every echoing memory was ruthlessly shoved down, buried under data, statistics, intricate theories. 

It wasn't just research anymore. It was a shield against pain.

You reread old papers, your eyes scanning pages until the words blurred, searching for some missed detail, some hidden clue that would unlock a breakthrough — anything to justify this madness.

You couldn't stop, needed to function. 

Because what else was left of you if you didn't anymore?

So you worked. Because to stop is to surrender, to stop is to face the truth — that without this work, all that remained was the ruin of what you once were.

Days melted into nights.

You massaged your temples, the headache now a constant companion.

The laptop screen blurred, diagrams and data swirling. Your mind felt like a tightly wound coil, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

You looked over to the window. The world outside, bathed in the soft glow of early morning, seemed like a foreign land. You hadn't been out in days.

You needed fresh air.

You slipped on shoes and crept downstairs. On the landing, your gaze fell upon Mrs. Tanaka, your elderly neighbor. Her hands fumbled with a tangle of keys, her fingers trembling slightly.

You knew Mrs. Tanaka, knew her kind smile, knew the early signs of her dementia.

"Need help, Mrs. Tanaka?" you asked.

She turned, her eyes widening in recognition. "Oh dear. I seem to have misplaced my keys again. Silly me."

"Here." You knelt beside her, retrieving the spare key from its familiar hiding spot under the potted plant. "Is this it?"

"You're an angel, dear," she said, her hands finally steady enough to work the lock. She paused, peering at your drawn face. "You look exhausted, dear. Are you getting enough rest?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just a long night of studying."

Mrs. Tanaka's nod was slow, her gaze lingering. But she said nothing further, just patted your arm gently before disappearing inside her apartment.

Your walk around the block was a blur, legs moving on autopilot. 

The energy drink in your hand was a pathetic substitute for real sleep. Back in your apartment, the silence was deafening.

You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling. 

Think. 

Think. 

Think.

And suddenly — there it was, a flicker of an idea, a twist on existing theory so audacious it bordered on madness.

It wasn't a cure, not yet. But it was... a start.

Adrenaline surged through you, chasing away the exhaustion. You barely noticed the tremors in your hands as you scrambled for a fresh notebook. Diagrams sprawled across the pages, messy yet precise, a frantic attempt to capture the idea before it slipped away.

Your hand ached from scribbling, your mind throbbed. But the fire was back, a destructive force perhaps, but a force that fueled you nonetheless. 

Finally, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, you had it. Not a cure, not yet. But a starting point. It was messy, audacious, and riddled with uncertainties. But it was something.

You reached for your phone.

[8:27 AM] You: Can we meet later? Lab. After classes. I think I have something.

─── ·✧· ───

You clutched your steaming cup of coffee like a lifeline.

Shivers ran down your body as a gust of autumn wind cut through your thin sweater, carrying with it the scent of damp leaves and the promise of winter's impending cold.

The late afternoon sun offered little warmth as it filtered through the branches of the oak trees that shaded the outdoor seating area of the cafeteria. Students bustled past, their bright faces and carefree chatter unbearable.

"You awake?" Maki's voice cut through the haze that had settled over you. 

You blinked, suddenly aware of the concerned looks on your friends' faces.

"You look like absolute hell," Maki continued. "Seriously, have you slept at all this week?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't even start with that. We know you, and you look like you're about to lose it."

You took a long sip of your coffee, somehow, defending yourself seemed like too much effort.

"She's right, you know," Yuta chimed in, his voice gentler than Maki's but no less concerned. "This research they're piling on you, on top of everything else... it's too much. Even we're struggling with the new semester, and we don't have half the stuff you're dealing with."

"Yeah," you sighed. "Tell me about it."

The looks exchanged between your friends were anything but reassuring. They knew you, knew your stubborn streak, but they also saw the toll this was taking on you. The shadows under your eyes, the tremor in your hands — they couldn't be ignored.

"It's not right," Maki said. "They're basically blackmailing you with your scholarship. That's messed up, even for this university."

"I know, it's messed up. But what am I supposed to do? Fighting it will just make things worse."

"But you have to!" Maki insisted, her voice rising. "Yaga's using you! You're just a student. We should report him, expose this whole thing."

"Maki, it's okay," you sighed, rubbing your temples.

"Nothing about this is 'okay'," she retorted. "You look like you're about to have a breakdown. You can't keep this up forever."

You slumped back in your chair. "It's complicated."

They were right, of course. You couldn't keep going like this. It was unsustainable, a house of cards ready to collapse at the slightest breeze. But what other choice did you have? The alternatives seemed even worse.

"We just—we worry about you," Yuta said. "Maybe we can help with the workload? Notes from class, study sessions—"

"Yeah," Toge chimed in. "Notes."

You offered a faint smile. "That would be great, thank you."

But Maki, as always, was less concerned with comforting and more with the injustice of it all. "I still can't believe you're stuck working with Gojo again. I mean, who does he think he is?"

You winced, wishing she hadn't brought up Satoru. Your head pounded, a migraine threatening to form. You rubbed your temples, but Maki's gaze was relentless. You knew what was coming next.

"Don't even ask," you pleaded, but it was too late.

"Have you talked to him? Like, really talked?"

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. "Maki, please—"

"Girl, he dragged you in front of an ethics committee, broke your heart, and now he's acting like nothing happened. Why are you still protecting him?"

"I can't tell you why," you said, your voice muffled. "Just trust me on this."

You couldn't really tell them, could you?

You couldn't tell them that your professor, a world-renowned neurosurgeon, was an opioid addict. That you'd fallen for him, hard. That the research project had gone sideways, not because of your actions, but because of something else that eventually led to a twisted game played by one of his former friends. And that Satoru, in his fear and self-loathing, had pushed you away, convinced he was doing you a favor.

Yeah, that wasn't exactly coffee-break conversation.

Maki raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your non-answer.

"He's...afraid," you said. "But he's trying."

"Trying what, exactly?" Maki scoffed. "To break your heart again? How long are you going to wait for him to get his shit together? How many times are you going to let him hurt you before you realize he might not change?"

Her words, harsh but undeniably true, cut deep. You knew the risks, the potential for heartbreak. But you also knew that love wasn't always rational, that sometimes the heart held on to hope long after logic had abandoned it.

You met Maki's gaze, a silent plea for understanding in your eyes. She was trying to protect you, and as much as it stung, you couldn't fault her for that.

"I think what Maki's trying to say," Yuta interjected, "is that we're worried about you. And this situation with Dr. Gojo doesn't help. He's your professor. If anyone finds out about your history, you're fucked."

"There's nothing to find out. It's over."

"Over? So you talked to him? Ended things?" Maki pressed.

"Ended is a bit strong."

"You really want me to go over there and end it for you?"

You wanted to argue, to defend the fragile hope that still flickered within you, but the words wouldn't come. You were simply exhausted.

Just then, your phone, lying forgotten on the table, lit up with a notification. 

[12:37 PM] Satoru: We're in the lab. Take your time, we'll wait for you until your class is over.

Maki raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of the devil?"

You gathered your things, a sudden urgency replacing the weariness. "I have to go," you said, looking to Yuta with a silent plea. He understood immediately.

"Don't worry," he said, a smile on his lips. "I'll take notes for you. Don't want you falling behind on top of everything else."

"Thanks, Yuta, I owe you one." 

But as you turned to leave, Maki crossed her arms, a stern expression on her face. 

"Don't be mad at me," you pleaded, sensing another lecture coming on. "I've got this under control, I promise."

"Sure you do. Just like you had that whole thing with Gojo under control?" She paused, her voice softening slightly. "We're just worried about you. Don't shut us out."

The weight of their concern settled heavily in your chest, a guilt that twisted like a knife in your gut. 

You wanted to tell them, to let them know the fucked-up mess of emotions and impossible situation you were in, but the words stuck in your throat.

You couldn't tell them.

You simply couldn't tell them.

Not when it meant risking his secret, his reputation, his entire career.

Not when you still cared, foolishly, stubbornly cared.

─── ·✧· ───

You pushed open the door to the lab.

It had been weeks since you'd last stepped foot in this space, weeks since you'd worked with Suguru and Satoru here. Somehow it's the same, the same lab, the same white coat, the same machinery, the same smell of antiseptic in the air, but the project was different.

No, it was not the same.

You slipped into your white lab coat and dropped your bag in the corner.

Satoru and Suguru were already immersed, standing in front of a whiteboard. Satoru, stretched out in a chair with a mug of coffee precariously balanced on a nearby stool, was gesturing wildly while Suguru scribbled.

You walked over to them. Satoru's head snapped around as he heard your footsteps, nearly spilling his coffee on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

He stared at you for another moment, his brow creasing as he assessed your weary features. "That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this."

"Last time I checked this was my research. Remember?"

Satoru merely scoffed, tilting his head to assess you with those impossibly blue eyes. You tucked your trembling hands behind your back, hiding the caffeine-fueled tremors from his observant gaze.

"You look exhausted," Suguru observed. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," you lied, though they probably wouldn't be fooled. Exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, and the effort to maintain your composure was becoming unbearable. 

They glanced at each other for a second, sharing a worried look.

It felt like a jagged saw against raw nerves. You wanted to prove them wrong, to prove you could handle this — handle all of it. This fight wasn't your choice, but it was yours now. And you wouldn't crumble beneath its weight.

"Look, I have an idea." You walked towards the whiteboard and relieving Suguru of the marker. With a few harsh strokes, you erased their notes.

It was shit anyway.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," you began. The marker flew across the whiteboard, outlining your new strategy. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

Suguru took a seat beside Satoru, his gaze following yours as you scrawled out diagrams and equations. "Antibodies...what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," you replied. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

Satoru shifted in his seat. "Such things never been tested before."

"That's why we'll be the first," you countered, keeping your back to them and focusing on the whiteboard. "We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

You spun around, the marker poised in your hand. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

They both starred at you, as if you went insane.

"That's," Suguru paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha?" Your gaze flickered between them. "Tell me this doesn't make sense."

Suguru leaned back, fingers drumming against the armrest. "It does. Theoretically, it might even work."

Satoru, however, remained unconvinced. "Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical."

Your pulse hammered against your skull. Your idea was a shot in the dark — that was undeniable. But in your gut, you knew, this could work.

"So?" you challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" You gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

Suguru stood up from his chair. He paced the lab, your idea stirring an excitement in him that matched your own. He stole the marker from your hand and began scribbling.

"She's right," he began. "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies...that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

"The potential for cytokine release syndrome—," Suguru mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger a inflammatory response."

"We can manage that," you countered. "Steroids, anti-IL-6...strict monitoring protocols." 

You knew the risks, perhaps even better than they did. And they were monstrous, undeniable. But those risks paled in comparison to the potential.

Suguru continued scrawling notes. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally snapped. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

You glared at him. "I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru."

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," Satoru shot back. 

"Coming from you, that's rich."

Satoru run a hand through his hair. "Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured wildly towards the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?"

"This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?" 

His eyes narrowed. "Ha?"

You leaned into him, your hands on the arms of his chair, caging him in. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?" Your lips were mere inches from his as you whispered, "Too bad you can't fuck them into submission, right?"

He stiffened, the muscles in his jaw clenching. He understood your taunt, the challenge clear in his eyes, the anger and — maybe something other as well.

Suguru, who had been watching the exchange with an expression that bordered on annoyance, suddenly stopped mid-thought. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his expression hardening as he glanced at the screen.

"Damn it." He answered the call. "Alright, I'm on my way," he said finally, ending the call with a curt nod. He turned to you. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital. Get some rest. You look like hell."

Ouch.

Before you could say anything, he was already striding towards the door, his white coat flapping behind him. 

With Suguru gone, a heavy silence descended upon the room. 

Satoru remained seated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like an assessment, not just of your audacious proposal, but of you — standing there, the weight of sleepless nights visible in the dark circles beneath your eyes.

"So—," he began. "When was the last time you actually slept? Like, really slept?"

You rubbed your aching temples. "I'm fine." 

You didn't know how many times you'd said that before today. But each time it was a lie. The exhaustion now throbbed behind your eyes, the beginnings of a relentless migraine.

Satoru stood. "Yeah, right." He crossed the distance between you in a few strides, his towering height suddenly oppressive. 

"Listen, we can argue about this crazy plan of yours later. Right now, you look like you're about to collapse." He reached out, gently cupping your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Don't lie to me. I know you're not fine."

"This idea is good, Satoru," you insisted. "It could actually work."

"I don't give a damn about theoretical breakthroughs right now," he said. "Stubborn, reckless idiot. I care about you. And right now, you're pushing yourself way past your limits."

"I don't need your concern, Satoru. Right now, I need your brain to help me with this."

His lips quirked into a half-smile. "Oh, where did all that anger at me go?"

"Screw anger. I'm being a genius now."

"You're not a genius right now, more like a madman."

"That's what it takes," you muttered, the defiance fading as your voice softened. "This research...it's personal." 

He studied you closely, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "I get that. But you can't save anyone if you fall apart in the process."

"I won't fall apart."

"Yes, you will. I've known you long enough to know that."

Part of you longed to surrender, to let him take the weight you carried, even for a moment. But pride, a fierce, protective instinct, urged you to resist. You couldn't afford to rely on him, not anymore. You had to fight your own battles, win or lose.

"Let us help. Just a little. Share the burden."

"I'm—"

"Don't," he cut you off. "Don't say you're fine. Not when I can feel you trembling."

"I'm... okay," you said instead.

His gaze held yours, unwavering and painfully perceptive. 

His breath brushed against your lips, making your knees weak in an instant.

The world narrowed to the mesmerizing blue of his eyes. He leaned in, your bodies mere inches apart. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you against him. Each inhale brought the subtle scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

"Satoru, what are you—"

He smirked. "Just testing out a hypothesis."

His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. You leaned into him, unable to resist his pull, cursing your treacherous body in the very same second.

"What hypothesis?"

He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours before tracing a searing path down the side of your throat. A soft moan escaped your lips as his tongue flicked out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

"Ah," he whispered against your skin, "that would be telling."

Before you could react, his hands slipped beneath your legs, lifting you effortlessly. Your arms instinctively found their way around his neck. He carried you effortlessly toward the lone chair before his desk.

"What are you doing?"

"Research," he declared, a playful lilt to his voice. 

He lowered himself into the chair, his hands never leaving your body, guiding you onto his lap as if you belonged there. His warmth enveloped you.

"Time to delve into your reckless methods, wouldn't you agree?"

Your legs were lifted, draped over his thighs as he pulled you closer. He reached for his laptop, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.

"Satoru, I—"

"Shhh." His fingers grazed your cheek, then slipped into your hair, stroking the back of your head in a soothing rhythm. "Just rest for a moment. I'll handle this for now."

"But I—"

His grip tightened, a gentle but firm reminder that your protests were futile. "If you don't sleep now, I swear, I'll slip a sedative into your next coffee, love." 

You grumbled something unintelligible, but the fight had drained from you. The exhaustion was too overwhelming, his warmth too tempting. 

You surrendered to the moment, your body relaxing against his. As your eyelids fluttered closed, the world narrowed to the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath against your hair, and the undeniable truth that despite the chaos — you were exactly where you were meant to be.

But even as your eyelids grew heavy, your researcher's mind kept churning.

"EGFRvIII..." you mumbled, the words barely audible against his chest. "Heterogeneity...off-target effects..."

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. "Yeah, yeah, I got it, Doctor. I might be a bit more experienced in this field than you, you know."

"But cytokine storm markers...cross-reactivity...you forget them often..."

"Bossy even in your sleep, huh?" His fingers continued to run through your hair as he spoke. "Don't worry that pretty little head. Just...sleep. I've got you."

And with that promise, he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a deep, desperately needed slumber. The last thing your conscious mind recognized was a kiss placed on the top of your head.

─── ·✧· ───

Ten years. 

Ten years since the sterile hospital room, the rhythmic beeps of the monitor dissolving into a horrifying silence. 

Ten years since the brain tumor had devoured your father, the man you looked up to, the man you admired more than anyone. 

Who would have thought that ten years later you'd be doing research on that very brain tumor again.

What a cruel joke.

Today, all you craved was to burrow yourself under the covers and let the world fade away. University, research, responsibilities — they all felt trivial, meaningless.

You were hungry, stomach growling. 

You didn't want to eat.

Dragging yourself out of bed was a herculean effort. Even the simple act of brushing your teeth felt monumental, exhaustion seeping into your bones like a poison.

The familiar ache intensified. You missed him. Missed his booming laugh, his gentle teasing, the unwavering belief in his eyes that you could achieve anything. 

He would have understood this desperate research, this burning need to find a cure — not just for others, but for a chance to rewrite the ending to your own story.

Maybe throwing yourself into this research was a desperate way for you to feel close to him again, maybe it was a futile attempt to get over it, end the suffering, end the what if's.

Coffee, black and bitter, was the only thing you could stomach. Just as you were about to take a sip, your phone buzzed.

[10:12 AM] Satoru: You with friends today?

You stared at the screen. Why would he ask that? But as quickly as the thought came, you dismissed it. No, not today. You really didn't need another emotional mess on this day.

You ignored the message.

With a sigh, you tossed the phone aside and buried yourself under the comforting weight of your blankets. You just wanted to sleep. Sleep and forget. Pretend for a moment that the world wasn't crumbling around you.

Afternoon passed in a haze of restless slumber and tearful awakenings. 

Another buzz — a call this time. 

Satoru.

Your finger hovered over the decline button. Why was he calling? Was there an emergency? Even if there was, you wouldn't be much help today anyway. 

Ignoring the call, you shut your phone off completely. He can handle whatever is going on on his own. He's a grown man after all.

The silence returned, thick and heavy.

Curled up tight, you drifted into a restless sleep again.

You awoke with a start, disoriented and unsure of how much time had passed. You blinked against the dim light, the rhythmic thumping at the door a harsh intrusion. Ignoring it, you burrowed deeper under the covers. 

Maybe, just maybe, whoever it was would go away and leave you alone. But the knocking persisted. With a frustrated groan, you dragged yourself out of bed. Throwing the door open, you were met with the last person you expected to see.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His white dress shirt was rumpled, sleeves rolled up. Dark navy tie around his neck. His brows were furrowed, the usual playful smirk replaced by a worried expression.

"You weren't answering your phone."

"And?"

"I'm concerned about you."

"No need."  

You reached for the doorknob to shut the door. But his hand shot out, stopping the door. His gaze locked with yours, those impossibly blue eyes piercing into you.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" he asked softly.

"Tell anyone what?"

"That today...it's the day of your father's death."

You felt an icy grip tighten around your heart. How did he know? You hadn't told anyone, not wanting the pitying looks or empty platitudes, least of all from him.

"Yeah," he said.  "That's what I thought."

His gaze held you captive, draining the fight from you. It wasn't anger, nor pity, but something like concern, and something more — something you told him not to look at you like that again.

You stepped aside and shuffled towards the kitchen to get yourself another cup of coffee. "How did you even know?" you asked, pouring yourself another cup.

"Google."

You turned, coffee sloshing in your mug. "Seriously? You Googled my father's death day?"

He didn't answer to that.

Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering. "Thought you'd be with friends today. Maki's fiercely protective, she wouldn't leave your side on a day like this. So when I saw her and the rest of the group on campus, I figured you hadn't told anyone."

"Yeah, because I wanted to be alone. Besides, shouldn't you be at university right now?"

"Called in sick once I realized you weren't with them."

"You really trying to get yourself fired, don't you?"

He closed the distance between you, the small kitchen suddenly feeling crowded with his presence. His eyes swept across your face, taking in the exhaustion etched around your eyes, the weariness in your posture.

"Have you eaten anything today besides coffee?"

"How much hydromorphone have you taken today?"

"Don't distract from the subject."

You crossed your arms. "I just changed the subject."

He ran a hand through his unruly white hair. "Alright, stubborn one. Let's get you some real food."

"I don't need you to babysit me, Satoru."

"Yeah, I know you don't. But you can't stop me, can you? So, move it." He gestured towards the door, his gaze unwavering. "Or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself."

The threat, delivered with a hint of a smirk, was not entirely a joke. You knew him well enough to know that. He was dead serious, and you were too exhausted to fight him, to resist the gentle command in his voice. 

And maybe, just maybe, a part of you didn't want to fight him, was thankful for his support.

"Fine," you grumbled. "But I'm paying."

"We'll see about that, first-year."

─── ·✧· ───

You didn't pay for it.

He'd already taken care of the bill before you could even reach for your wallet. 

Silence fell between you as you navigated the bustling streets in his car, your stomach full. He smoothly merged from the parking lot onto the main road.

You were halfway through your energy drink, the sugary sweetness suddenly feeling heavy in your stomach. "Wait... where are we going?"

Glancing out the window, you saw a road sign indicating the highway. It pointed towards the direction of your hometown, a place you hadn't set foot in for nearly a year. Your stomach suddenly turned.

"You..." you stammered. "Why?"

His eyes briefly met yours, one hand tightening on the steering wheel. "Don't you want to visit him?"

His words hung in the air, a simple question — should have been a simple question.

But a wave of nausea roiled in your stomach. Guilt for neglecting the place that held so many memories, fear of confronting the raw grief that still lingered, a deep-seated yearning to reconnect with a past you'd desperately tried to outrun.

"I don't know." You slumped back in the seat. "I don't think I can."

Silence stretched between you.

Then, his hand found yours, fingers interlacing with your own. "I'm here with you. Every step of the way."

You hated him.

Hated that he wouldn't force you, wouldn't pressure you. Hated that he would simply be there, as he always seemed to be. Even when you didn't ask, even when you didn't want him to.

You wanted to curse him for his audacity, for somehow knowing what you needed now, for understanding you better than you understood yourself. But a part of you was grateful. 

The truth was, you didn't have the strength to face this alone. And deep down, you knew this visit was long overdue.

Your fingers fumbled with the edge of your sleeve. "You planned this all along, didn't you?" You glanced over at him.

His lips curved into a slight smile. "Get some rest," he replied, eyes returning to the road. "We've got a long drive ahead of us."

The highway stretched before you, an endless ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the horizon. You leaned back, exhaustion pulling you under. The warmth of his hand lingered, a comforting weight on your thigh. 

Lately, it seemed, you could find peaceful sleep only in his presence.

─── ·✧· ───

Hours dissolved into miles, the familiar cityscape giving way to rolling hills and quaint towns. The pain in your chest was still there, but with Satoru by your side, it was lighter, less heavy, less suffocating.

But as the car pulled into the all-too-familiar cemetery parking lot, the dread you'd been suppressing clawed its way back. Satoru cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening, broken only by the mournful creak of the windshield wipers against the lingering drizzle.

Satoru got out of the car and rounded it to opened the door for you, his hand lingering on the window frame. You got out of the car only to find yourself trapped, his body not moving an inch. 

"You okay?" 

"I'm fine." You ducked beneath his arm, breaking the hold of his gaze, and stepped onto the rain-softened ground.

The desolate expanse of the graveyard stretched before you, a sea of gray and brown punctuated by the stark white headstones that stood like silent sentinels. Without a word, you walked the familiar path, each step a heavy weight dragging you down. 

The wind howled. It whipped through the trees, skeletal branches clawing at the sky. Each gust of icy air tore at your hair, biting at your exposed skin until you finally stood before his grave.

Satoru remained a few paces back.

You hadn't been here since the funeral, avoided it at all costs. And now you were here, standing in front of his grave. Somehow, you didn't even remember the reason you avoided this for so long.

Maybe seeing his grave made it all too real, too painful.

But now you were here.

And it became real, and it was painful.

"You want me to leave you alone?" Satoru asked.

"No." With a silent plea, you reached out your hand. "Please, stay with me."

His response was immediate. In a few quick strides, he closed the distance between you, his hand enveloping yours in a warmth that chased away some of the icy dread. "Where else would I go?" he mused, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You swallowed back a sob, unable to form words. 

Time lost all meaning as you stood there, hand in hand, the world narrowing to the headstone before you. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the sun sinking lower, painting the graveyard in fiery hues of orange and red.

But the silence became unbearable. 

Memories flooded you, each one a bittersweet wound, a yearning for the past that wouldn't be silenced. You couldn't stand still anymore. Your fingers tightened around Satoru's.

"I asked my father to read me his neurology books as a child," you finally spoke, your voice a fragile whisper. "While other kids were reading about princesses and fairy tales, I wanted to understand what my father did, wanted to understand his work."

You took a shaky breath. "He loved this. Surgeries, research, saving lives... it was his whole being, and somehow, it became mine too. I remember knowing how to clip an aneurysm before I could do the Pythagoras theorem."

"When I was old enough, he took me to the hospital. Showed me everything. I was probably there more than I was at school." Your voice trembled, the dam threatening to break. "I loved it. I loved it so much."

"Sounds like he was a great man," Satoru offered quietly.

"They tried everything," you continued. "Chemo, radiation... poison, burning him from the inside out. But the tumor was too aggressive, too progressed." Your voice trembled, your fingers turning to ice in his grasp. "Surgery was his last option."

Satoru moved closer, his grip tightening.

"We didn't want him to, we wanted him to try radiation a little longer, stay with us a little longer," you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. "But he chose surgery anyway, went into surgery without telling us."

Suddenly the memories came back, how weak and fragile your father already was from all the procedures. How the doctors still suggested surgery. It was risky. It was stupid. But your father still wanted it. Even after you begged him not to do it. 

But what could you do?

You were a high school student at the time. 

Young and dumb.

You know now, that it was his only chance. You understand now, why he wanted to try anyway, even though he knew the risks.

"He didn't make it," you finally choked out, tears welling up in your eyes. "He died on the table. Alone. I never even got to say goodbye."

Suddenly, Satoru's arms enveloped you, strong and warm against the chilling evening air. He pulled you close, one hand on your back, the other pressing your head against his chest.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "I'm here, and I'll always be here."

You bit your lip. You wouldn't cry. Wouldn't let the grief consume you. Not here, not now. But Satoru's arms tightened around your trembling form as your tears nevertheless dampened his shirt.

You didn't know how long you remained like this, but his grip on you never faltered for a second, he didn't back away for a second. Even as twilight descended, casting long shadows across the headstones.

He held you until your tears dried, he held you until your tight grip on his shirt eased, until your heart felt less like a stone in your chest.

"We should probably find a place to stay," Satoru finally spoke, his voice gentle, hesitant. "It's getting late, we can drive home tomorrow—"

You pulled away, just enough to meet his gaze. Your voice was surprisingly steady despite the tear-streaked tracks on your face. "I know where we can stay."

─── ·✧· ───

"She's a little...different," you warned Satoru after ringing the doorbell.

The porch creaked beneath your weight. Your eyes swept across the worn wooden planks, the once vibrant yellow paint on the siding faded to a sickly pallor, the rusty mailbox overflowing with unopened letters. Rose bushes wild and overgrown.

You averted your gaze, a lump forming in your throat.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You've mentioned that. Like, a hundred times."

"Just so you're prepared."

"I'm a doctor, remember? Crazy doesn't faze me."

"Just wait," you muttered, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. "And, uh, whatever you do, don't mention my father."

His eyes widened slightly, the playful smile disappearing. But before he could respond, the front door flew open. Your mother appeared in the doorway. Surprise, then unadulterated joy, flashed across her face as her gaze fell upon you.

"Oh my baby girl!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. "You've grown so tall! My, how long has it been? All the way from Tokyo? Are you alright? Why didn't you call?"

Her questions tumbled out in a torrent, the words tripping over each other as she finally noticed the tall, white-haired man standing behind you. "And who is this?"

"Mom," you managed, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "It's good to see you too..." You gently extricated yourself from her embrace. "This is Satoru...he's a...," you turned around to glanced at him, "friend."

Satoru raised an eyebrow at the label.

Your mother's eyes raked over him. He, in turn, flashed her a smile so bright, so disarming, it almost made your skin crawl. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Wow, he really could play the perfect son-in-law when he wanted to.

You suppressed a sigh, knowing your mother was already half-smitten. Before she could unleash another barrage of questions, you quickly interjected, "We're just passing through, and need a place to stay the night."

"Of course, of course!" Your mother's enthusiasm returned in a flurry. "Come in, come in! You must be starving. I'll whip up some tea, and there's apple pie..." She chattered on, ushering you both into the familiar warmth of your childhood home.

─── ·✧· ───

Before you could blink, your mother had you both in colorful floral aprons, protest was futile. Satoru's awkwardly tied over his shirt, the apron way too tight for him. He loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, the crisp white fabric bunching around his elbows.

The awful smell of lavender, tinged with something sweet, hung in the air.

How you hated that smell.

Your mother bustled around the kitchen, flinging open cupboards, clattering utensils, and assigning tasks. You found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Satoru at the counter, a mountain of carrots and a too-small cutting board the only barrier between you.

You glanced at him and mouthed a silent 'sorry'.

Satoru leaned in, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Think I finally figured out where you got your stubborn streak."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before he could answer, your mother stood between you, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand like a weapon. "So, Satoru, tell me, where did you meet my lovely daughter?"

The question nearly made you drop the knife.

"We met in the operating room," he began, while cutting carrots. "I was performing a quite complicated operation and was a bit stuck, and your daughter over here helped me out."

"Oh, you're a surgeon?"

"Neurosurgeon, yes," Satoru replied. "But apparently, I'm not as clever as your daughter. She's got quite the mind on her."

Your mother let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing in the cramped kitchen. "That's my girl," she exclaimed, patting your arm with a flour-covered hand. "Always the smartest one in the room."

Then, she reached out to pinch your cheek. "Mom!" You swatted her hand away. "Stop it!"

"She's astoundingly intelligent," Satoru added, his eyes flickering to you with an admiration that lingered a beat too long. You rubbed your cheek, a blush warming your face. "Couldn't ask for a better research partner."

You shot him a warning glance, and he finally tore his eyes away, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"You work together?" your mother asked, her curiosity piqued as she turned around to tasted something from the simmering pot.

"We're involved in the same research project—" Satoru began, but you cut him off.

"It's nothing special," you interrupted, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Just some boring data analysis. Nothing exciting."

Satoru glanced at you. You shook your head subtly, hoping he'd catch the unspoken plea.

The rest of the meal preparation was a blur of nervous glances and sharp elbow jabs.

Your mother asked more and more personal questions, making you want to crawl under the table and disappear. You dodged, deflected, and offered vague answers. Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem to reveal every fucking inappropriate detail of your shared past.

You could practically feel the bruises forming on his shins. By the time the food was ready, you were ready to throttle him.

He must absolutely hate you, you thought, shooting him a death glare as you sat down at the table. But even your anger couldn't fully mask the warmth that spread through you at the sight of his charming smile, the way he seemed to effortlessly charm your mother with his stories.

You'd hoped the interrogation was over, but as soon as the first bite was taken, your mother launched into a fresh round of inquiries.

"Made some good friends in Tokyo, have you?"

"Yeah," you mumbled around a mouthful of casserole. "They're great. Don't worry."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Your mother clasped her hands together. "You were always a bit of a loner, you know. I was so worried you'd be all by yourself in that big city."

The backhanded compliment made you roll your eyes. Some things never change.

Before you could reply, she continued, "But you've even found yourself a boyfriend! That's wonderful!"

You choked on your food. "Mom, no, that's not..." you coughed, fighting for composure, "He's just a friend."

"Ouch," Satoru muttered under his breath, a smirk playing on his lips as he took another bite.

You shot him a glare, the unspoken 'shut up' hanging heavy in the air.

"So, you two are working on that neuroprosthetics project together, then?" your mother continued.

You were mid-bite, unable to answer before Satoru piped up, "We were. But we're working on something else now."

"Oh? What happened to the neuroprosthetics?"

You swallowed, forcing the words out. "It was...shelved. For now."

"Why?"

Damn it. Her relentless questioning was grating against your already frayed nerves. You avoided her look, tracing the worn pattern of the tablecloth with your fingers.

"Some complications," you lied. "We're waiting on funding."

You couldn't really tell her the truth after all, could you?

"So, what are you working on now, then?" Your mother wouldn't let it go, her voice a relentless drill boring into your skull.

"It's nothing, really. Boring stuff," you dismissed it, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Ah, but I want to know!" 

"It's...medical research."

"That's what I thought! But what kind? It must be important if you're working with a seasoned surgeon." She beamed at him. "Tell me, I'm dying to know!"

Your gaze flickered to Satoru, a silent plea for him to remain quiet. He simply watched the exchange with a carefully neutral expression, probably unsure of what's going on.

The knot in your stomach tightened. You knew she wouldn't let it go. "It's... brain tumor research," you finally admitted.

The kitchen fell silent.

Your mother's forced smile vanished, a mask you knew all too well finally fell. Her eyes hardened into shards of ice.

"So," she finally hissed. "It's back to that foolish research, is it?"

It hurt — after all this time it still hurt so awfully.

"It's not foolish," you retorted, your own anger flaring in response. "It's important. It could save lives."

But your words fell on deaf ears. She slammed her hands on the table, the force of it rattling the plates. Her face twisted with a grief-stricken rage as she rose, towering over you. "Why? Why are you so obsessed with this?"

The words pierced you like a thousand tiny needles. It was the unspoken accusation that had haunted you since his death — that your relentless pursuit was somehow an act of betrayal, a denial of his death.

But she was worse.

"Because he's dead, Mom!" you screamed. "He's gone! And he's never coming back!"

The words hung heavy in the air, a brutal reality she desperately tried to outrun. Your mother's face crumpled, the carefully constructed mask of normalcy finally shattering. Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white against the worn tabletop.

"Dead?" she whispered. "You know that's not true. He's...he's just...away. You're lying. You're a liar!"

The accusation, so childlike in its desperation, was a punch to the gut. You wanted to scream, to shake her out of this self-imposed delusion. But the words died in your throat.

What was the point?

It was useless. She hadn't changed a bit.

This was the same wall of denial you'd run up against so many times before, a fortress built to keep the pain at bay. But you were done banging your head against it.

"I'm going to bed," you choked out, the words barely audible. You turned and fled, each step a retreat from the battlefield you had lost long ago.

The familiar smell of her cooking, now made you want to throw up.

─── ·✧· ───

Each step creaked as you climbed the familiar stairs, the once vibrant floral carpet now muted and worn beneath your feet.

Nothing had changed.

Your childhood bedroom, untouched since you'd left. Your mother hadn't changed a thing. Same striped bedspread. Dusty neurology textbooks still lined the shelves. Moonlight filtered through the threadbare curtains, casting elongated shadows across the walls.

It was all achingly familiar, yet utterly foreign.

You collapsed onto the bed and starred up at the cracks in the aging ceiling. That goddamn lavender smell all around you. Your mother seemed to have sprayed the air freshener everywhere — some habit she had developed after your father's death.

She wanted the house to smell good for his return.

Your head began to throb.

Then, a soft knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Satoru's voice broke the silence.

You mumbled a weak assent. He entered, closing the door softly behind him.

"Could you calm her down a little?"

"I did my best," he said. "She's sleeping now."

"I told you she's different."

He walked over to you. "She's in denial, probably a prolonged grief disorder. Is she in therapy?"

"She won't go." You rolled onto your side, your back to him. "I've tried."

Wordlessly, Satoru slipped onto the bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you as he nestled against your back. His arms encircled you, pulling you close until your back was pressed against his chest. His hand found your hair, fingers threading through the strands.

You didn't resist.

You knew you were crossing lines again, lines that should remain clear. But in that moment, the exhaustion, the heartache, the years of repressed grief — it all became too much.

You just wanted to be near him, damn the consequences.

So you surrendered, your body relaxing against his. You could feel his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against your shoulder. Slowly, the tension eased from your shoulders, replaced by a weariness you could no longer fight.

"My mother lost it after his death," you whispered. "She shut down completely. Wouldn't leave the house, wouldn't eat... wouldn't even speak. I had to take care of everything, the house, the bills, keep her from falling apart. It got better, eventually. But those first few months were a living nightmare."

"I know she lost her husband." Your voice caught in your throat. "But I lost my father. I was grieving too."

Satoru listened, his fingers gently stroking your hair as you continued.

"I couldn't take it anymore. It was hell." You swallowed against the burn of tears. "I was so relieved when Suguru offered me a way out, a chance to transfer to Tokyo, to leave it all behind, move far away, away from here. I never looked back, never came back. I left her alone. I couldn't anymore. I hate this place."

It was humiliating — a shameful admission of weakness you'd never dared to voice aloud. But now it escaped your lips, you simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

You never wanted him to see this side of you, the weak, helpless girl who'd run from her responsibilities, the broken girl you tried to bury beneath layers of ambition and scientific accomplishment.

"Do you think I'm a terrible person?"

Satoru's hand stilled in your hair. "No," he whispered. "You were a child, forced to grow up too fast, forced to take on too much responsibility. Walking away from that doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you human."

"But why does it feel so wrong? I should have been there, I should have—"

"Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is to walk away from the things that hurt us," he interrupted gently. "You were protecting yourself. That doesn't make you bad, it makes you brave."

"I'm not so sure."

He pulled you closer, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Nothing you do, nothing you could ever do, would make me think less of you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "No matter what you've done, I'll always love you. You can't scare me."

How could he say that now? 

How could he offer this unwavering love while dismissing your own?

Did he think you were so weak, so easily scared by his mess?

How could he not believe you, when you'd sworn the very same words to him?

It was a painful irony, a hypocrisy that made your stomach churn. He was so convinced you would abandon him, so afraid of your judgment, but couldn't he see?

You wouldn't leave him. You couldn't.

He didn't need to be perfect. He didn't need to be whole. He just needed to be himself. You loved him, flaws and all, and you were willing to fight for him, even if it meant fighting against your own better judgment.

The unfairness of it all made you want to scream. But all you could do was remain close to him, the warmth of his body a painful reminder of the love that could have been, the trust that had been shattered.

"I hate you," you whispered. "I hate how easy this is for you, how you can be so damn controlled even when you're high. It should be harder for you, shouldn't be me that falls apart."

"I've been doing this a bit longer than you, love," he murmured against your hair.

"Doing what?"

"Life."

You scoffed.

"It used to be hard," he admitted. "But it got easier over time. Now, I guess I'm just...a better person on drugs than off them."

"You really think that?"

"You see the proof, don't you?"

"So, you won't ever stop, will you?"

The silence that followed was an answer in itself. You shifted in his embrace, the darkness making his features hard to read. Even so, you could sense the defensiveness in his posture, feel the faint tremor in his hands.

"I'm afraid, Satoru."

"Of what, love?"

"That you'll kill yourself with the pills, and that I'll have to watch, unable to do anything about it."

He shook his head. "That won't happen."

"Don't fool yourself, you're not stronger than your body."

In a swift motion, he shifted, hovering over you. His hands on both side of your head. The moonlight cast stark shadows across his face, his eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath away.

"That won't happen," he repeated with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. "Because how could I ever leave you? You're the last thing I want to see before sleep, the person I crave to wake up beside, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

He leaned closer, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your lips. "How could I leave, when you're the one who showed me I could still feel? Who gave me something I'm terrified to lose?"

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were cruel — reminder of what you'd lost, of the future he'd carelessly shattered — cruel reminder of the love he had no right to claim. It left a bitter taste on your tongue.

"You ended this," you whispered. "You ended us."

"I know." He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as if the weight of his confession was too much to bear. "But I'm still yours. You still have all of me."

"That's not fair."

"I know." His hands found your waist, his touch searing through your thin shirt. "I know I'm being selfish. But I can't—fuck, I can't stay away from you."

"You're just scared to be alone."

"No." His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly close until you could feel the frantic beat of his heart against your own. "It's not that. It's—" He paused, struggling to find the words. "I swear, if I could, I'd melt you into my veins, let you run through my bloodline forever."

"Satoru, I—"

"No." His lips hovered inches from yours, his mouth slightly open, a desperate plea in his eyes. "Don't—don't say anything. Not yet."

He tilted your chin upwards, his gaze searing into yours. His brow furrowed, a tense line between those striking blue eyes.

"You're carved into me. Heart, soul, every damn part of me I can't even begin to understand." His thumb brushed your lower lip. "I'm tethered to you, and I don't know how to cut the cord."

His lips hovered, a hair's breadth away from yours. His gaze flickered to your lips as he leaned impossibly close. 

You ached into him, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Weeks of forced distance, the pain of his choices, the impossible future — it all faded as you closed your eyes, surrendering to him — like you always surrendered to him.

But just as your lips were about to touch, something crossed your mind.

Tethered.

"Tethered!" You shoved him away with a sudden surge of adrenaline. Mind racing, you scrambled out of bed. You tore open drawers and rummaged through your childhood bedside table. "Where's a pen? marker?"

Satoru, momentarily stunned, watched with a furrowed brow. "What's going on?"

Then you found a marker. "No time to explain," you declared, already uncapping the marker. You walked towards the wall opposite the bed, a blank canvas of white paint. Satoru watched as you draw with the marker on the wall without a second thought.

With a flourish, you started sketching a series of diagrams, lines connecting and branching out, notes scrawled in messy handwriting beside them.

Finally, you stepped back, chest heaving. "Okay," you began, "with glioblastoma, the big problem is, how do we keep those CAR-T cells and antibodies glued to the tumor, right? How do we stop them from wandering off and screwing up the whole show?"

Satoru's eyes followed your every move, his brow still furrowed. "Yeah."

"We need a delivery system," you continued, the words tumbling out faster than you could write them. "Something that keeps those cells localized, focused on the tumor, like a...a guided missile." You stabbed the marker at the wall, emphasizing your point. "Otherwise, the treatment won't be effective. It'll just dissipate, a waste of time."

He leaned back against the headboard, rubbing his chin. "Some kind of molecular anchor, maybe?"

"Not exactly. But you're on the right track. Think smaller. Nanoparticles."

Satoru raised a questioning eyebrow. "Nano-what now?"

You grinned. "Microscopic carriers, basically. Biocompatible ones, of course. Imagine we wrap those CAR-T cells and antibodies in these little packages, and engineer them to stick to the tumor like glue."

"So they stay put, right where they need to be?"

"Exactly." You nodded. "They deliver their payload directly to the tumor, then break down harmlessly. No more stray cells wreaking havoc on healthy tissue."

"But won't the body eventually get rid of them? Immune system, natural breakdown, that kind of thing?"

"Absolutely. That's why we use biodegradable polymers for the encapsulation. They'll dissolve over time, minimizing any long-term risks. But it's—," You paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. "We have to figure out the exact release rate—enough time to kill the tumor, but not so long that they cause other problems."

Satoru's gaze swept across the diagrams on the wall. Then, he pushed himself off the bed and walked towards you. You held your breath as he studied your handwriting.

"So?" you asked. "What do you think?"

"Stubborn, reckless, absolutely brilliant." His azure blue eyes met yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You stubborn, reckless, absolutely brilliant woman."

Before you could react, he swept you off your feet, a surprised gasp escaping your lips as he spun you around. "Satoru!" you protested, clutching your legs around his waist, laughter bubbling up.

He stopped abruptly, holding you aloft, your bodies mere inches apart. His hands warm against your hips, your fingers threaded through his hair. Your heart hammered in your chest. But as you stared into his impossibly blue eyes, you found yourself unable to look away.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back again. "Damn it, you drive me insane."

"We have a lot of work to do."

"We always do. But this—this is different. We're going to do this. We're going to make it work."

"Are we still talking about research?"

"Of course, love," he replied, leaning closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

Time seemed to slow, the space between you burned. You could feel the warmth of his breath, smell his intoxicating cologne. You wanted this, wanted him with a desperation that clawed at your very soul.

But just as your lips were about to touch, he pulled back, abruptly setting you on your feet, shattering the moment like glass.

"We should get some sleep," he said. "Long drive tomorrow."

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. 

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't kissed you. Because deep down, you knew that if he had, you wouldn't have been able to stop. 

"Yeah. We should sleep," you finally said. "You'll be sleeping on the floor, just so you know."

"Ha?"

"You think I'm letting you sleep in my bed after that?" You crossed your arms. "You can't be trusted, professor. There's a futon in the closet."

"You're kidding, right?"

─── ·✧· ───

You woke with a groan.

Rolling over, the familiar striped print of your childhood bedspread met your gaze. Sunlight filtered through the dusty curtains, casting the room in a hazy glow. Beside you, the futon was empty, the faint scent of Satoru the only evidence that he had been there at all.

Why hadn't he woken you?

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached up to touch your lips. The faint ghost of his kiss still lingered on your skin. A headache threatened to rise as you hastily dismissed the memory.

Not this again.

The house creaked and groaned as you made your way downstairs. Halfway down, you froze.

There, in the sun-drenched kitchen, stood Satoru. Leaning casually against the counter, his unruly white hair seemingly catching every ray of sunlight, he looked startlingly at home. Your mother stood beside him, a genuine smile on her face as they talked.

Seeing him here, in this familiar space, in this casual domestic setting with your mother, sent a strange feeling of warmth through you. Your lips twitched upwards as you caught a glimpse of your mother's laughter, a sound that had been far too rare in recent years.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, Satoru's gaze snapped to you, his eyes brightening.

"Well, there she is!" your mother exclaimed. "Satoru was just giving me an update on your research. Sounds like you're onto something really interesting!"

Your brow furrowed. What was she talking about? She couldn't be talking about the brain tumor project. She'd rather chew glass than willingly delve back into that nightmare.

You were rooted to the stairs, exhausted and confused.

Satoru crossed the distance between you, that familiar lazy grin playing on his lips. He held out a hand. "Ready?"

"Yes," you said and reached for it. His fingers closed around yours. "Let's go back."

─── ·✧· ───

Birdsong filled the crisp autumn air.

Morning light filtered through the gnarled branches, casting dappled shadows across the porch. The chipped paint on the railing, the faded welcome mat — you never pictured yourself missing this place, your hometown, your childhood home. It was too intertwined with loss, too full of ghosts, to really miss it.

Yet, today, saying goodbye was somehow hard.

"Thank you." You gave your mother a tight hug. Her embrace was warm, reassuring, but you felt her tremble slightly. "For everything."

"Come back and visit soon, okay? And call me when you're back in Tokyo. Promise?"

"I will," you lied.

Your mother squeezed you with surprising strength. Then, with a low voice she whispered, "I think...I'll try therapy."

Stunned, you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. Why now? After years of denial? Your gaze flickered past her to find Satoru leaning against the porch railing, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. Could he — Was he behind this?

Before you could form the question, your mother turned to him. "And you! You take good care of her, you hear?"

"I will, but I also wanted to ask you something." Satoru pushed off the railing and walked over. He took your mother's hand in his, the gesture strangely formal. Then, in a move that left you momentarily stunned, he bowed slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

His blue eyes met hers as he asked, "May I have your permission...to marry your daughter?"

Haaaaa?

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hmmm friends, i can't with soft, desperate satoru. was literally melting while writing this. but i hope this chapter gives you all a little more hope for a happy ending, haha. i know some of you were doubting after the last one (which, btw, wasn't even the lowest point yet, just sayin'). but we'll get there, promise !! Just a whole lotta chaos and hurt to get through first.

also, please don't ask me about any of the medical stuff in this chapter. i have no idea what's going on, lol. loosely based it on this study (DOI: 10.1056/NEJMoa2314390), but seriously, i don't understand any of it. just ignore anything that doesn't make sense — it's all for the sake of the plot ahaha.

also was hesitant to share too much of yn's backstory since this is technically an x reader story, but you guys wanted to know more, so i went for it. i'm so glad i did !! i think it makes her character more well-rounded and shows her vulnerabilities. 

and omg, satoru being supportive no matter what? trying to make things right? i'm a sucker for that. and of course, he had to meet his future mother-in-law sometime, right? hehe. but don't worry, we'll also dive into satoru's past and how it shaped him in future chapters.

one last thing note on suguru: this won't turn into a love triangle. reader's heart belongs to satoru, and while suguru's feelings will be there, it'll be more of an undercurrent than a major plot point. so, no worries there !!

and lastly, thank you so much for reading. your support means the world. seriously, you make this whole writing thing so much fun !! so thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ask for !! <3

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn @browrm @hfdkhjghjkghfj @marcillyan @roses-and-reeses @yungbloode (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future, this way it's easier for me to keep track!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo fanfic #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

[cutielando]

I just finished reading your chubby reader fic which I loved as a chubby girl myself!! I was wondering if you could do something similar with like a fit gym girlie I feel like muscle mummy’s tend to be forgotten a lot!

a/n: of course! people always overlook a gym mummy!!

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando has always been keen on exercising. He didn’t really have a choice in the matter, seeing as his job required him to be in the best shape possible. 

However, that doesn’t mean that he looks down on people who don’t exercise as regularly as he did or at all. Every person was entitled to their own routine, in his opinion.

But when he met you, someone who lived and breathed exercise and hitting the gym, he felt like he had hit the jackpot. Being in the gym together, sharing your love for exercise with each other and always pushing one another to better themselves.

It was a dream come true, frankly. 

The first time he had suggested joining you for your workout, he figured you would go easy on yourself, do some light exercises and call it a day. The shock on his face when he saw you lifting weights, twice the weight he himself could barely lift, was something out of a movie.

You had found it so endearing, seeing him staring at you with such a perplexed expression and shock, you found it sweet and funny at the same time.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown 3 heads that I don’t know about?” you joked once you had put the weights back and joined him where he was standing.

“You know you just lifted twice what I can lift, right?” he said, eyes still wide and staring back at you.

You laughed, holding your belly as your laughter rang through the fairly empty gym. This was one of your favorite things about living with Lando, the fact that the apartment building where you both lived had a private gym exclusive only for the residents.

“Babe, you know I’ve been a gym rat for years now. What did you think I’ve been doing all this time?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Lando shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“I don’t know, running on the treadmill? I figured you lifted weights and all that stuff, but I didn’t think you could lift more than me. And I’ve been training straight up hardcore my entire life” he explained, scratching the back of his neck before he reached out for your hand and pulled you closer to him.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt against his body.

“I can do more than that, but I’m still jet-lagged and my body takes a while to recover, you know” you explained, making the shock return twice as intense.

Lando could swear his brain was malfunctioning. He didn’t know why or how, but the way you were speaking and the things you were saying were doing things to him. He found you so attractive before, but now it had reached a whole other level.

“Have I ever told you how hot you are?’ he asked, his voice having dropped to a dangerous low mumble.

You bit your lip, looking into his eyes sensually. If you had known this was all it took to get to him, you would have brought him with you a very long time ago.

“You have, and I could say the same about you. However, as much as I want to jump your bones this very second in this very gym, I need to finish my workout and you need to work on your neck” you said, your lips brushing against his as you suddenly pull away from him and make your way towards the treadmill for a running session.

Lando stared dumbfounded as you walked away from him like nothing had happened, getting back to your workout just like that.

He would lie if he said he didn’t want to just ditch his workout and take you upstairs, but he knew Jon would be coming soon enough to help him with his neck training and he didn’t want to have to explain to him why he decided to skip it.

♡♡♡♡♡

Ever since that first day in the gym, Lando had insisted on joining you for every workout routine that he had time to attend. It didn’t matter if he had just got back from a race halfway across the globe, or he was tired and sore.

He wanted to be there, even if it was just to watch and admire.

“Baby, you’re tired, you really don’t have to come with me” you argued with him one very early morning as you were getting ready to go downstairs to the gym.

Lando had just got back home very late last night, having flown all the way from China. The amount of sleep he got was nowhere near enough for him to get enough rest after such a busy weekend.

And yet there he was, wide awake before 8 am and ready to go watch you while you work out. 

“But I want to watch you” he pouted, his eyes barely open. His hair was fluffy and his curls were sticking up in every possible direction.

You sighed, knowing you would never be able to say no when he looked at you like that, lips all pouty and those puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul.

“You need to sleep, love. You’ve barely had any time to rest this weekend and when you finally come home you’d rather come and watch me exercise than get some sleep?” you asked, smiling slightly, but you already knew the answer.

“I would rather spend any time with you than sleep. If you’re not here with me then what’s the point of sleeping?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head. He knew how to weasel his way straight into your heart, saying things like that which you couldn’t overlook.

Once he noticed the defeated look on your face, he got up from the bed and took your hand, offering to carry your bag downstairs.

When you arrived downstairs, you were pleased to see that there was nobody in the gym at that hour, giving you two some much needed privacy.

“Alright, I’m going to run on the treadmill for a while and then do some leg lifting. Are you okay here by yourself for a little while?” you asked him once you put your earphones in and your headband on your head.

He nodded, taking a seat on a bench in the middle of the room. The sight all but melted your heart, the way he sat there with his hands on his lap, like a little kid waiting for his mother.

You nodded and leaned in to quickly kiss him on the lips, turning on your music and getting to work.

It wasn’t even 20 minutes after that you got off the treadmill and noticed Lando had fallen asleep on the bench, his head resting on his knee. You pouted, taking out your phone and snapping a quick picture.

Because you knew there was no way he was comfortable in that position, you decided to cut your workout short and get him to bed, figuring you could get some more sleep yourself.

“Lando, baby. Come on, let’s go upstairs” you slowly shook him awake, his eyes opening and meeting yours sleepily.

“Are you done working out?” he asked, stretching a little and looking around, seeing you more rested than you usually were.

“I only ran on the treadmill today, I’m skipping my legs session today so we can catch up on some sleep together” you explained, taking his hand and trying to get him to follow you upstairs.

He protested, shaking his head and not moving an inch.

“No, go on and finish. We can get some sleep later. I don’t want you to jeopardize your routine because of me. I’ll watch, do your thing” he said and planted himself more comfortable on the bench, now facing towards the apparatus he knew you would be using.

You smiled lightly, finding his obsession with watching you train endearing.

Never before in your life had anyone been as supportive of your workouts than Lando has been. Compromising his sleep schedule just to see you train and do your thing, sleeping on a gym bench just so he could watch you in your element.

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life, someone just as passionate about the gym as you were.

Maybe even more.

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris au #lando norris scenarios #lando norris f1 #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine

[oneforthemunny]

EVIEEEEE i’m fucking feral over janitor!eddie rn 🥵 how about this for the blurb game:

janitor!eddie, fluff/smut, maternity lingerie

ur welcome 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

oooh you're about to send the girlies into HEAT!!!! ahhh!!! slightly smutty a little sweet bc how could it not be??? minors dni

"I feel disgusting." You huffed, looking down at your swollen abdomen, your swollen hands, swollen ankles. You felt like a giant balloon, ready to pop, but still so far away from release. Seven months, two more to go, and you weren't sure how you were going to do it.

Lisa frowned at you. "Well, you look good." She countered. "Glowing."

You rolled your eyes, letting your shoulders roll. "You're lying." You muttered. "I'm just sweating. That's not a glow."

Lisa laughed. "You're so hard on yourself! You look amazing!" She insisted. "You're glowing, and you've got the cutest fucking bump in the world!"

You looked down at your overalls, your bump snug against them. "I don't know why you think you look bad. I've seen people who look bad during pregnancy- I looked bad during pregnancy. Believe me, it's not you. You look radiant."

"I'm swollen. I'm disgusting." You shook your head. "I know Eddie has got to be exhausted from all my mood swings. I know I am."

Lisa's lips pursed in thought. "When was the last time you and Eddie had sex?"

"Lisa-" You hissed, looking around at the tables of people around you.

"Seriously. When was the last time you did? Nothing makes you feel prettier than getting some loving." She winked at you. "Put on something sexy and seduce your husband."

You shook your head, looking down at the table. "I don't think Eddie would find this hot." You muttered, nodding down at your bump.

Lisa scoffed. "Have you met Eddie? He worships you." She rolled her eyes, grabbing her tea. "Let's go. We're going shopping for you."

Later that night, Lisa had insisted Ollie come over for a sleepover with her son, giving you a wink before she left.

"Guess we have the night to ourselves." Eddie smiled sweetly. "Do you want me to make you something? Or do you want to try and finish the nursery?"

You shifted nervously. "Um, not tonight." You muttered. "I was kinda thinking we could maybe spend some time together?" Your eyes met his.

Eddie beamed, lighting with excitement, soothing your jittery nerves. He was still there, still your husband, the same love of your life he was before. "Yeah, that sounds great, sweetheart." Eddie hummed, stepping closer to you. "What do you have in mind?"

"I, um, I actually bought something." Your voice shook slightly, swallowing to steady it. "I want to show it to you."

"Yeah?" Eddie's brows raised.

You nodded. "Stay right here." You pointed to the couch. "I-I'll be right back."

The lingerie wasn't as sexy as what you usually bought, but it was still pretty. You spun in the mirror, the fluttering babydoll lace top swaying with you. A matching pair of panties, blush and lace to match the top, that weren't the usual thongs. A little more covering that what you were used to, but looking at yourself in the mirror, you hated to admit Lisa was right but...

You felt pretty. Sexy, even.

You only hoped Eddie would feel that same way, butterflies erupting in your tummy with every soft step down the carpeted hallway. "Close your eyes!" You called.

"Alright." Eddie laughed lightly.

You peeked around the corner, his eyes closed, lounging on the couch. Stepping carefully, you stood in front of him, the coffee table between the two of you.

"Ok," You took a deep breath. "Open your eyes."

Eddie's lashes lifted, eyes widening at the sight of you. His jaw dropped slightly, gaze roaming furiously over your figure.

You felt vulnerable under it, shifting from foot to foot, swaying nervously. "D-Do you like it?" You squeaked.

Eddie stuttered in response, rambling and words jumbled. "Y-You- Yeah, yeah of course I-" Eddie's eyes met yours. "You look incredible."

Your body burned with heat, grinning sheepishly at him. "Really?" You asked. Eddie nodded dumbly. "Because, you don't have to say that if-if you don't want to do this, I get it. I just... I don't know, Lisa thought it would be a good idea, and we haven't in a while-"

"-No," Eddie shook his head, eyes still wide. "I-I definitely want to. I really, really," He stood, stepping towards you, shin hitting the coffee table and shoving it clumsily.

"Shit," Eddie hissed, blushing. "Sorry, I didn't- I- Yes, I want to." Eddie nodded, tongue thick in his mouth, heart skipping, rambling the way he did when you two first started dating. You still made him nervous, made his heart race like he was in junior high again.

"I-I didn't know you felt like this." Eddie admitted, stepping towards you, hands settling onto your hips. "I would've, ya know, we could've taken care of this a while ago."

You giggled shyly, your hands sliding over his tee shirt, toying with his necklace. "I-I didn't think you wanted to." You admitted, not meeting his eyes. "I thought... Y'know, thought you thought I looked... weird or gross or something."

"What?" Eddie gaped, breath strangled in shock. "Gross? Are you- Baby, no, no."

You looked up at him carefully. "Really?"

"Yeah, yeah, like-like the opposite. The complete opposite." Eddie nodded furiously, swallowing the spit that was pooling in his mouth, looking at you in front of him. "I knew you didn't feel good, and I just thought you weren't in the mood. Thought it would be kinda asshole-ish of me to try and fuck you while you're not feeling good."

You giggled, hands snaking up his shoulders, wrapping around his neck. "Well, I'm feeling good now." You purred, the familiar sensual tone back in your voice, a little shakier than usual. "I'd like for both of us to feel good now."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, nose brushing with yours. "I can do that. I can make you feel good." He pulled you closer to him, your bump pressed to his skin, his hands on your back, pulling you in for a hot, sloppy kiss.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #janitor!eddie munson #vivisblurbgame #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #janitor!eddie #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #oneforthemunny blurbs #eddie munson blurb

[quimichi]

TW: mild obsession

SUMMARY: Oh, how much they love you. How much they want to just be one with you...

CHARACTERS: Yaoshi x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 303

Yaoshi nearly loses themself when they feels your weight in their lap. Their breaths are short and sharp, and a shiver runs down their spine as they struggles to suppress the shudder that runs through their body. Don't you look so cute and tiny in their lap! They can't help but gently caress your face lovingly.

"You're so lovely..." they whispers, barely above a breath, as they caresses your cheek. Even after hundreds of years, millennia even, your beauty still leaves them speechless. They couldn't help themself...they was so greedy...they had to turn you as immortal as they was. Leaving you with iternal pain and horros. But with them by your side, with the aeon of abundance, you have nothing to fear. Even after all those years, the pain that you felt is nothing compared to their ever growing love and adoration.

They continue to lavish your cheek with tiny kisses. They're completely enamored. The scent of your skin drives them into a frenzy, and before they know it, they are already pressing more kisses to your neck. They moans against your skin, their whole body heating up. To think that a aeon like them grows weak for a mere (immortal) human like you...laughable, they can already the other aeons laughing. Do they care? Never...not with their little human in their lap.

"Are you sure you are not the aeon of seduction~?" Yaoshi whispers lowly, their voice thick with emotion. Their eyes are half-lidded, and a fierce blush has spread over their cheeks. A groan rises from their throat as they press more kisses to your neck, moving up to your jaw.

The kisses are gentle, almost worshipful, but as they continues downward, they becomes more desperate, more hungry. It is as though they wants nothing more than to drown themselves in you....

TAGLIST: @hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @theblades @rikasurl

@luxbless @thequitekid-moonie @mmeat - did it ;)

#hsr aeons #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #yaoshi #aeon #yaoshi x reader #hsr yaoshi #Honkai star rail yaoshi #Aeon x reader #Aeons x reader

[mochinomnoms]

Riddle + Yuu’s telepathy for an hour+ Floyd next to him= Why is Riddle looking like he is about to have another Ob?

He now know Floyd is into him, more wild if Floyd has the same 18+ thoughts as Jade. Riddle’s hair is becoming white and his cheeks go as red as his hair because Floyd is also thinking of the most domestic scenarios with him.

He can’t catch a fucking break.

Worse if Yuu and Jade are there. Holy fuck Riddle will die.

When you begged Riddle to let you test your new power and transfer your telepathy over for just a class period, he was just trying to be a good friend.

And he was mildly curious how your mind reading powers worked. He was under the assumption that you had to choose a specific person and listen into their thoughts for it to work. Which made your predicament with Jade all the more humorous to him. If you were so bothered by it all, then why did you listen in?

My cute little Riddle~ Aaaah, you're so bright. So red. I love your red hair, your red cheeks when your mad. Should I call you Goldfishie again? To piss you off? So you can yell at me with those pretty gray eyes and voice? Aha, maybe I should~

I think I should beg for the Prefect's forgiveness after this. I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how bad it was.

Riddle had no clue how you handled the influx of noise, color, and feeling bashing into your head all day. It was like having a horn ringing straight into his ear while a truck's headlights flashed right in his eyes.

Even worse than that? He could make out the singular, most irritating noise, louder than the rest.

My little goldfish, my little tyrant, my little Riddle~

The bane of his existence. The enforcer of Octavinelle. Currently, the third-tallest student at Night Raven College.

"Uh, Riddle?"

Riddle took a deep breath, closing his eyes and turning towards Silver with a polite smile.

"Yes, Silver?"

Silver opened his mouth, closed it again as he paused, and opened it again.

"Are you alright?"

Cute little goldfish~ So bright and red~

"Yes." Riddle ignored the heat pooling under his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You're incredibly red right now. I think even your hair looks pink compared to your face."

Riddle made a strangled sounding noise as he buried his head into his arms and hid against the desk.

"Riddle?" Silver sounded concerned, and Riddle could sense his hands hovering over him, like he wasn't sure if Riddle needed a pat on the back, or to be left alone.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment—"

"Little Goldfishie~"

Riddle bolted up, his head nearly smacking against Floyd's chin based on the way the teal-haired man felt backwards.

"Wow! Cool it Goldfishie!" Aw, he's so cute! "Just tryin' to say hi~"

The image of himself in Floyd's arms and lap, nuzzled up against each other as the other contentedly played with his hands flashed in his head.

My goldfishie! My little red tyrant! My Riddle! Mine, mine mineminemineminemine—

"NO I'M NOT!"

The room went silent, everyone looking over at the group of three. Noticing that Riddle and Floyd were interacting, everyone shrugged and resumed their conversations after a moment.

"Uh, what?" Floyd looked and sounded confused. Now that Riddle was paying attention to him though, he could make out a soft look in his eye.

Aw, are you red 'cause you're sick? Is my mean little mate sick?

Mate? Mate?! MATE! OH GODS NO!

Do I gotta take you to the nurse? I can do it! Anything for my future mate! Aha~ I love my mate, I'll take such good care of you.

Riddle was met with another image of Floyd and himself in another...sweet scenario. One where Floyd was watching him sleep in with one of the most tender looks Riddle had ever imagined on Floyd's face. As he slept, Floyd played with the coral colored ring on his left ring finger.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine!" Riddle scrambled out of his chair, face still warm and his stomach nauseous.

"I think I'm just feeling a bit feverish, I think I will step out for a bit—"

"You want someone to take ya to the nurse?" Floyd asked, while Silver nodded along. "I can take ya, come on Lil' Goldfishie—"

"I DON'T NEED AN ESCORT!" Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he opened it, some of the other students giving him a look for his volume.

Aw what, come on! Floyd frowned, though it breifly was hidden by one of Floyd's lazy smiles as he shrugged.

"Whatever you say~" Floyd cooed, his eyes following Riddle as he rushed out of the classroom. Riddle could feel his entire body heating up, like Floyd knew that he knew.

Once he was out of the classroom, he near bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Riddle turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was indeed his characteristic shade of red. Instead of his usual angry expression, though, was one of fluster and breathlessness.

Riddle let out a small, high-pitched whimper as he turned for the faucet for some cold water, splashing it on his face. He looked up at the mirror again, cheeks still bright red, and let out a whine.

I will never make light of you again, Prefect, I promise.

#mochi asks #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #floyd leech #floyd x riddle #florid #ptm #telepathy is all fun and games until your worst enemy starts having domestic thoughts about you two being married

[daydreams-after-dark]

can I request for enhypen jake?

imagine you booked an oil massage from popular spa/salon or whatever it is. Jake was assigned to you not knowing he is the actual owner and he find you beautiful so he purposely gave you a thin clothes for the massage (bra and underwear thing). He purposely massage your boobs and core telling you it's part of the package you avail not until you felt something entering your pussy and jake pounding you.

Goodness me!!! So I haven't ever written anything other than skz, but @kangnina has been opening me up to these gorgeous guys so I'm going to give this a go. 😊

cw: massage turns sexual, fondling, fiingering, p in v unprotected, cum eating, squirting

You're laid out on the massage table in just your thin pair of briefs and the towel provided by the spa.

You wait patiently, then you hear a door open and close softly, and someone adjusting the towel.

"Gooed evening, y/n. My name is Jake, and I'll be your masseuse today." he said soothingly as he tests your muscles by pressing down on various areas of your back.

"Now, you do know what service you booked today, don't you?"

"Yes." you answer timidly.

Jake chuckled. "Now just remember to relax. You don't have to do a thing. Just leave everything to me."

He peels the towel from you upper half. You feel the warm massage oil land on your skin, then Jake's hands begin to work the oil into your skin.

You know the etiquette for receiving a massage is to not make any moaning sounds, and usually you are more than capable of following this 'rule', but for some reason, this particular massage feels different.

You have to bite your tongue, when his hands move lower and he removes the towel entirely. Jake sucks in a breath when your body is on display for him, and you hear him whisper a shaky "fuck" as he pulls your briefs down, revealing your ass.

"Is the room a comfortable temperature? Do you need me to turn up the heating?" he purrs as he massages your ass cheeks.

"No, it's good." you squeak, as you feel some oils being drizzled on your crack.

"How's the pressure? Too soft? Too firm?" he inquires.

"It's good." you sigh. Actually, you are becoming extremely wet, and you hope he doesn't notice.

"And what about here? How's the pressure?" he whispers as his fingers slip down to massage your pussy.

"That's good too." you pant.

"Good girl, just keep relaxing for me."

You moan.

"Pretty sound. You don't have to hold them back. Make all the sounds you want. The walls are soundproof."

He slips a finger inside you. "Good girl. So tight. We must give this attention in a moment." his voice is strained. "But first we need to massage your front. Roll over for me." he steps back to let you roll over. He helps remove your underwear entirely as you do so.

You are completely naked and on display for the hottest massage therapist you have ever seen.

He smiles down at you. "I will have to hop up on the table to reach. Is that okay?" you nod, and part your legs to make space for him to kneel between your thighs.

Jake was wearing a simple white t shirt and grey linen pants with an elastic waistband. A massive erection clearly visible underneath has you clenching at nothing.

He drizzles oil all over your breasts and stomach and begins to massage the front of your body. His hands squeeze your breasts in circle. "The pressure is still okay?" he checks in.

"Harder. Squeeze them harder." you reply looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Like this?" he squeezes harder and you let out whimper. He smirks and his hands trail down your stomach, and then back up.

He leaves one hand on a breast while the other travels down your body to run through your folds. His eyes flick up to yours. "You're responding so well to the massage." He notes, as he pulls his linen pants down to release his cock.

"Now for the most important part of the service." he says shakily.

He pours some oil directly onto his cock, then runs the tip up and down through your folds.

"Hold your legs up for me. That's the way. That's it." He's still massaging your breast as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the fullness. "Fuck...ngh..." you look down to where he is inside you and you flop your head back onto the bed. Such a stretch.

"We need to massage your internal walls now. I'm going to have to use a very forceful technique. Make as much noise as you need to. I can't stop until we have fully worked out the tension."

Jake begins to fuck your pussy, just like he said he needed to. Long, hard, deep thrusts. You can't help but whimper on each impact.

"So tight. So much tension." he grunts. "Gotta work out those tense spots." he changes the angle of his thrusts, directing his efforts towards your g spot. He presses down on your lower abdomen, making his cock feel even bigger inside you.

"Oh... fuck...please..." you cry.

"I know... I know... we're nearly there." he releases your abdomen so he can massage your clit, and his other hand reaches underneath to squeeze your ass.

You're panting, whimpering and are on the verge of tears. Your pussy is so loud, your moans are louder. Lucky the walls are soundproof. The tension inside you is about to snap.

"That's it. I can feel you're about to release. Let go for me. Let it all go. Don't worry about any mess. Just let go."

Your orgasm is coaxed from you, making your entire body quiver beneath him. You sob as liquid gushes from you all over Jake's cock and linen pants. You made such a mess.

"Oh my fucking god." you pant. "Fuck." your cover your eyes.

He takes his time to pull out of you, and comes around to the side of the massage table.

"Now for the final part of your service. To hydrate you. Open." he nudges your lips open with the tip of his cock, then strokes himself until thick ropes of cum land on your tongue.

"Good girl." he praises as he wipes your lip.

"Take your time getting dressed. I'll meet you out front to book your follow up session which involves two massage therapists. I think it'd be best to book a series of services as I feel it's going to take a while to really massage those deeper places." he smiles and leaves you alone to recover.

a/n: i hope this was okay. It turned out pretty wild in the end.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89

#enhypen smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jake x reader #sorsha is asked

[gavisfanta]

FWB - GAVI

summary: a holiday to ibiza can change eveything between two bestfriends...

a/n: shoutout to my co-author who helped me with this

warnings: smut

Y/n squinted at the glaring sunlight as she dragged herself out of bed, wincing as the harsh rays stung her eyes. She glanced around the unfamiliar room, taking in the whitewashed walls, the fluffy duvet on the bed, and the terrace doors leading out to the patio. The memory of the previous night flooded back to her: the thumping bass, the sweaty bodies, the taste of salt on her lips. She couldn't believe she'd actually done it. She'd let herself get carried away in the moment, let her guard down.

Now here she was, in a Gavis bed, the faint smell of sex lingering in the air. Her best friend, Gavi, was sprawled out beside her, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She bit her lip, feeling a mixture of shame and exhilaration coursing through her veins.

She padded over to the terrace doors, pulling them open to reveal a small balcony overlooking the dazzling blue ocean. The cool sea breeze swept through the room, offering her some relief from the oppressive heat. Y/n leaned against the railing, taking in the stunning view as she tried to make sense of what had happened last night.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Gavi mumbled from behind her. She turned around, feeling her cheeks flush as she took in his disheveled appearance. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and he was still wearing the same clothes he'd had on last night. "Quite the view, isn't it?" he continued, gesturing to the ocean below.

Y/n nodded, still unable to find her voice. She glanced back at Gavi, noticing for the first time the small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. A chill ran down her spine. Had he felt it too? The undeniable spark between them? The thought sent a shiver through her.

"So," Gavi began, his voice low and husky, "do you remember what happened last night?"

Y/n swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. "I remember we had a few drinks," she stammered, her cheeks burning even hotter. "And we...we danced."

Gavi grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, we did more than dance," he said, taking a step closer to her. "We connected." His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in, and for a moment, Y/n thought he was going to kiss her again. But instead, he simply brushed a stray hair from her forehead and turned away, leaving her feeling even more confused and aroused than before.

She watched as he walked back over to the bed, stretching luxuriously before climbing back under the covers. He glanced over at her, his expression unreadable. "So, what do you say?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. "Wanna do it again tonight?"

Her heart skipped a beat at his boldness. She wanted nothing more than to give in to the desire that still burned between them, to feel his skin against hers, his lips on hers. But at the same time, she knew this was dangerous territory. They were best friends, and they'd been through everything together. What would happen if they kept crossing this line? Could they really just be friends with benefits without it complicating things?

She hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "I don't know," she finally managed to say. "It's just we're best friends, Gavi. I don't want to ruin that."

He studied her face carefully, his expression softening. "Hey," he said gently, reaching out to take her hand. "I get it. It's a lot to process. But look at it this way: we've been there for each other through everything else. Why not explore this together? We can be each other's 'experiments,' right?" He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And who knows? We might find something even better than what we already have."

Y/n felt herself melting under the sincerity in his voice, the warmth of his touch. She wanted so badly to believe that they could keep this casual, that they could find a way to make it work without ruining their friendship. But deep down, she knew that the connection they'd shared last night, and the one they'd shared their whole lives, was far too powerful to simply be reduced to a casual fling.

She sighed, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his palm. "Okay," she said, meeting his gaze. "Let's see where this takes us."

As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light across the room, Y/n couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She knew that the decision they'd made together would change things between them, but she also believed that they could navigate these uncharted waters together. And maybe, just maybe, they'd discover something even more beautiful in the process.

Gavi lay beside her, his arm draped possessively over her waist, their bodies pressed tightly together. The feel of his skin against hers sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't deny the growing desire that pooled low in her belly. She let out a soft sigh, arching her back slightly to press herself even closer to him.

"So," Gavi began, running a finger down her arm, "what do you want to do today?"

She considered the question for a moment, her heart racing at the thought of spending the day exploring this new side of their relationship. "I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want to do?"

He smiled, nibbling lightly on her ear. "Well," he said, his breath warm against her skin, "I was thinking we could go for a swim, maybe grab lunch by the pool. And then...who knows?" His hand wandered lower, tracing a slow circle around her navel, and Y/n felt herself grow even wetter at his touch.

Together, they rose from the bed, stretching their limbs and yawning loudly. Y/n couldn't help but notice the way Gavi's body moved, the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. She felt a surge of desire as she imagined those muscles pressed against hers, their bodies intertwined.

As they made their way towards the pool, the warm Caribbean breeze caressed Y/n's bare skin, making her shiver with anticipation. She glanced over at Gavi, unable to believe that this was really happening. But as they waded into the cool water and she felt his hands on her hips, guiding her closer, she knew that there was no going back now.

Their kiss was just as intense as the night before, if not more so. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, and Y/n felt herself losing control as Gavi's hands traveled lower, cupping her bottom and pulling her against his erection. She moaned into his mouth, arching her back as she let herself fall into the pleasure that coursed through her veins.

Later, as they lay on the loungers beside the pool, the sun beating down on their bare skin, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and disbelief. It had been incredible, better than anything she could have imagined. But at the same time, she knew that they were walking on thin ice. They were best friends, and she didn't want to lose that.

She glanced over at Gavi, who was dozing contentedly in the sun, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. For a moment, she considered telling him how she felt, how scared she was that this might ruin everything. But then she remembered the way he'd made her feel last night, the way he made her feel right now. And she knew that she couldn't bring herself to say those words. Not yet, anyway.

Instead, she settled for lying beside him, basking in the warmth of the sun and the glow of their newfound connection. She didn't know where this would lead, but for now, she was just going to enjoy the ride.

They spent the rest of the day lounging by the pool, occasionally diving into the water to cool off or finding shade beneath one of the many palm trees. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing background for their conversation, which flowed effortlessly between them as they discussed their favorite memories from their childhood, their dreams for the future, and even their deepest fears.

As the afternoon wore on, Y/n began to feel a sense of peace wash over her. It was as if she had been carrying a heavy burden for so long, and now that she had finally let it go, she could breathe again. She glanced over at Gavi, wondering if he felt the same way. His eyes were closed, his face serene, and she knew that whatever was happening between them, it was real.

As the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting a warm golden light across the sky, they decided to head back to their villa. Their hands were intertwined as they walked, their fingers entwined in a way that felt both familiar and intimate. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and sea salt, and the sound of cicadas singing their strange, haunting song filled the air.

Back at the villa, they showered together, washing away the sweat and sand from their bodies. Their touches were gentle, almost tentative, as if they were both afraid that one wrong move would shatter the fragile connection that had formed between them. As they dried off, Gavi pulled Y/n close, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible above the sound of the ceiling fan whirring overhead.

She sighed, leaning back into him. "No," she said, "I don't want you to leave. But I don't want this to change things, either."

He nodded, pressing a kiss into her hair. "I understand," he said. "We'll take things slow, and we'll figure it out together. Okay?"

She felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was fear or anticipation that she was feeling. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady her racing heart. "Okay" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there in the bedroom, naked and barefoot, the warm air of the room playing over their still-damp skin. The sheets on the bed were rumpled from their previous activities, and the room was filled with the lingering scent of their bodies. Y/n felt a pang of desire well up within her as she looked at Gavi, his strong arms crossed over his broad chest, his muscles rippling beneath his smooth skin.

She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her body against his. He let out a soft moan, his hands coming up to cradle her face. His lips met hers, and they kissed with a hunger that was equal parts passion and tenderness.

As they kissed, she could feel herself responding to him, her body growing wet with desire. She wanted him, and she knew that he wanted her too. But she also knew that there was something more than just physical attraction between them. There was a connection, a bond that went deeper than anything she had ever felt before. And she wasn't sure if they were strong enough to handle it.

They broke apart, gasping for air, their chests heaving as they stared into each other's eyes. For a moment, the silence was deafening. And then Gavi smiled, his lips curling up into a crooked grin. "I think we're going to be okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "I think we're going to figure this out."

She smiled back at him, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe they could make this work, maybe they could have their friendship and their newfound love without it ruining everything. As they stood there, holding each other close, she knew that they were in this together. And no matter what happened, they would face it together.

They moved slowly, their bodies instinctively knowing how to touch each other in a way that was both intimate and tender. Gavi lowered her onto the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Y/n arched her back, letting out a soft moan as he teased her nipples with his teeth. The sensation was exquisite, and she felt herself growing wetter with desire.

As he moved between her legs, she spread her legs wider, giving him better access. He kissed her inner thighs, tracing circles around her sensitive flesh with his tongue before finally bringing his mouth to her core. His tongue darted out, circling her clit, and she threw her head back, crying out his name as pleasure washed over her.

She could feel him hard against her thigh, and she reached down, guiding him to her entrance. He thrust forward, entering her in one smooth motion, and she let out a gasp at the intensity of the feeling. He began to move, their bodies moving in unison, his skin sliding against hers, creating friction that heightened the sensation.

As they made love, she couldn't help but marvel at the way they fit together, as if they were always meant to be this way. The connection between them was palpable, and it felt like they were sharing more than just their bodies. They were sharing their souls, their deepest desires, and their fears. It was a connection that was both terrifying and exhilarating, and she wasn't sure if they could survive it.

Gavi's hands moved expertly over her body, his touch both tender and demanding. She arched her back, meeting his thrusts with her own, their skin sliding against each other in a dance that was both erotic and primal. She could feel herself growing closer to the edge, the tension building inside her, and she knew that the release was near.

With a cry, she came, her body tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Gavi followed her over the edge, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into her. They collapsed together on the bed, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they tried to catch their breath.

"God, I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their hearts hammering against their chests.

He smiled down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I love you too, my Y/n," he replied, his voice just as soft. They lay there for a while, lost in the afterglow of their passion, relishing the feel of their sweaty skin against each other's.

Eventually, they pulled apart, both needing a moment to catch their breath and regain their composure. He reached over to the bedside table, retrieving a bottle of water and handing it to her. She took a long drink, feeling the cool liquid wash away the remnants of their lovemaking.

"I think we should talk," he said, his voice serious. She nodded, knowing that they couldn't avoid it any longer. They needed to figure out how to navigate their new relationship, how to balance their friendship with their burgeoning romance.

They both sat up, facing each other, their knees touching. "Do you think we can do this?" Y/n asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "I mean, can we be together and still be friends?"

Gavi nodded slowly, considering her words. "I think we can, but it's not going to be easy. We're going to have to be honest with each other, communicate, and respect each other's boundaries."

She smiled, feeling relieved by his answer. "And what about everyone else? What if they find out?"

He shrugged. "We'll deal with that when it happens. For now, let's focus on us and how we feel about each other."

They lapsed into silence, lost in their own thoughts. Y/n couldn't help but wonder how this would affect their lives, their careers, and their friendship with the other members of the team. But for now, she was content to be with Gavi, to feel the warmth of his skin against hers and the beating of his heart beneath her fingers.

As they continued to talk, they began to work through some of the issues they were facing. They discussed their fears and their hopes for the future, and they promised to be honest with each other no matter what. The more they talked, the more comfortable they felt with the idea of being together, of sharing their lives in this way.

Finally, they decided to take things slowly, to keep their relationship a secret for now and see where it led them. They knew that they still had a lot of work to do, but they felt a sense of peace and contentment that they hadn't experienced in a long time.

As the sun began to set outside, casting a warm glow through the window, they lay down together once more, their bodies entwined. Y/n closed her eyes, feeling grateful for the love and support that Gavi had given her, and for the chance to finally explore the depths of their feelings for each other.

She knew that things were going to be different now, but she also knew that she was ready for the challenge. Together, they could face anything.

#barca #fc barcelona #football #futbol #fanfic #gavi #mustread #espana #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #pablo paez gavi #gavi smut #i miss gavi

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Lisa, Eula, Yae, Shenhe, Chiori, Rosaria, Navia, and Furina's S/O feeling insecure

No one requested this, just writing away some blues tonight since I can't sleep. Totally unrelated, Just Give Me A Reason is a really good song.

Lisa immediately noticed something was bothering S/O.

The way their hands fidgeted on the teacup, staring out into space with their brows creased.

(Lisa) "...S/O?"

She gently calls out to them, snapping them out of whatever they were thinking about as they blinked a few times in surprise.

(Lisa) "Is something the matter?"

S/O gave a smile, one she immediately knew was forced.

(S/O) "Ah, it's nothing.-"

Their expression vanished the moment they saw how concerned Lisa was getting. There was no point in lying to her, was it?

S/O sighed as their fingers resumed rapidly tapping against the side of the cup, struggling to look her in the eyes.

(S/O) "This is going to sound really dumb but...I've just been thinking lately. You...still love me right?""

Lisa's back straightens at their words, where was this going?

S/O shook their head in a slight panic as they realized how their words came across.

(S/O) "I-It's nothing you've done, I promise! I just...I'm just worried that I'm not good enough. And that...you'll leave me because of it."

Lisa for her part remains silent for a moment. Not because she didn't know what to say, it was the opposite.

She was just relieved that it wasn't something more serious. But regardless, Lisa's arms reach over the table and hover over their hands before gently squeezing them.

(Lisa) "S/O, you've always been perfect for me. Whatever thoughts you have right now, don't listen to them."

Her smile and soothing voice makes S/O thankfully relax, with them meeting her gaze.

(Lisa) "Of course I still love you. I always will."

Lisa gets up from her seat to embrace S/O, letting them take a second to let their emotions out.

(S/O) "Lisa-"

(Lisa) "It's okay. Take as long as you need."

Eula is completely stunned when she hears S/O voice their thoughts.

Leave them?

Eula's mouth opens to immediately rebuke that, but quickly silences herself.

Truth be told, she felt that fear herself. The fact that S/O chose to love a Lawrence was a fact she still struggled to fully comprehend.

S/O was the first person to show her true love, and it felt like a knife to her heart to hear them think so little of themselves.

Instead, Eula's palm slowly caresses their cheek, letting their head rest into it.

And with a voice that grows softer by the second, she takes a deep breath and replies:

(Eula) "You mean more to me than anything I could ever say or do, S/O. Don't ever think that you're not good enough for me, because there's no one else I'd rather have."

(S/O) "...Thank you, Eula."

Once she sees that smile she loves, she gives one herself, not being able to help the teasing that follows up.

(Eula) "Remember, our feud is for the long-haul. Don't think that you can escape it that easily."

(Eula) "Hah, of course..."

Yae exhales deeply, processing S/O's words as her ears uncharacteristically twitch for a split second.

A soft chuckle from Yae is the sound S/O hears, making them turn their gaze from the ground to her.

(Yae) "Frankly, I thought when you began that sentence, it would be far worse."

For once, there's no sign of a mischievous smile or anything resembling that she'd tease them.

Yae gives a soft kiss to their forehead before taking their head to rest on her chest in an intimate hug.

(Yae) "I certainly hope you'd know by now, S/O. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be here right now."

(S/O) "...S-Sorry, Miko.-"

She cuts them off by squeezing them tighter, her voice still as affectionate.

(Yae) "Don't apologize. Just remember that even if you doubt yourself, that I won't."

S/O pulls away after a small eternity, with Yae's expression going back to normal.

(Yae) "Good, that's the face I like to see."

Shenhe is terribly confused.

Why on earth would she ever leave without a good reason to?

(Shenhe) "You don't have to worry about something like that, S/O."

Abandon the person who made her feel human again, to feel love when she thought it was completely gone?

She would have to go completely insane to do that.

(S/O) "I-I know...It's not fair to you at all and-"

Shenhe instantly hugs them tightly, her face and voice not fluctuating all that much despite the strength that held S/O.

(Shenhe) "I am still struggling with emotions, but I know the feelings I have for you are real."

She's put at ease when S/O hugs her back. Thank the Archons she was saying her piece correctly.

(Shenhe) "I'm sorry that I have ever made you doubt me, but I love you, S/O."

(S/O) "I'm...I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

Neither of them move out of each other's arms for a long while.

Chiori sighs before she speaks up in her usual stoic tone. Though this time, there's a hint of kindness in it.

(Chiori) "Well, you're right about sounding dumb."

...Wait, shit that's not what she meant-

(Chiori) "I mean, you know I'm not the type to beat around the bush. If I wanted to leave, I'd have done it. I'm still here, aren't I?"

...Chiori shakes her head, mostly at herself. Even at times like these, she still can't help her choice of words.

This time, she moves to give them a tight hug, wiping away the tears forming at the edge of their eyes.

Chiori feels their heartbeat, giving her time to think of a way to not sound like a bitch.

(Chiori) "Too direct right now, aren't I? Then how about this, my feelings for you haven't changed, and they won't."

She hears S/O give a small chuckle, making her a little more at ease.

(S/O) "You have such a way with words, Chiori."

(Chiori) "Remember, you chose me...And I chose you, S/O."

Rosaria is silent, much of her actions mimicking S/O's.

She didn't look them in the eyes as she took her time, coming up with a response in her head.

Once she glanced at S/O and saw how uncomfortable they had become, she figured out what to say.

(S/O) "I shouldn't have brought this up, sorr-"

(Rosaria) "I'm glad you did, S/O...If anything, I feel like I haven't been there for you enough."

And she was proven right, seeing how they were tonight.

Rosaria hesitates before letting her hands hold S/O's, closing her eyes.

(Rosaria) "I know I'm not here a lot of nights to reassure you, and I know I'm really bad at this kinda stuff..."

Instead of saying anything, she gets up to kiss them, hoping that gets the message across.

(Rosaria) "...Don't worry about me leaving, that's not happening."

She makes it a mental note to come home sooner than usual now, if at the very least to wipe any tears S/O may have away.

Navia thoughtfully listens to S/O's troubles.

Her expression is completely serious, not saying anything until they finished their sentence.

Her first instinct is to wrap her arms around them and tell them that it's okay, but she knew what they really needed.

(Navia) "S/O. I don't think I could imagine my life with anyone else. And I never want anyone but you."

Seeing them relax got her to do so as well, Navia leaning in to kiss the top of their hand.

(Navia) "Don't ever be afraid to tell me these kinds of things. I'll make sure that you won't think that way about yourself ever again."

Now, she allows herself to give them a bone-crushing hug, making her giggle.

(S/O) "Thank you, Navia..."

(Navia) "It's what your wonderful girlfriend is here for, right?"

To brighten their mood, she puts her hat on them, before tilting it down and giving a cheeky smile.

Honestly? Furina completely understood the feeling, more than S/O could ever know.

She was so afraid that the people of Fontaine or that those closest to her would leave upon knowing what she was really like.

Centuries of feeling that she wasn't good enough for anyone ate away at her every night.

So to hear S/O voice the same words, thinking they weren't good enough for her?

The person who loved her despite everything? That broke her heart.

Furina's arms wrapped around their back before her head rested on their shoulders, hugging them tighter than she ever had before.

(Furina) "...Thank you for telling me, S/O."

She had no room to tell them that they shouldn't think this way about themselves. After all, she was still struggling with the very thing plaguing their mind.

(Furina) "I'll love you, no matter what you think. Because you'd do the same for me."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lisa minci x reader #eula x reader #yae miko x reader #shenhe x reader #rosaria genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #furina x reader #lisa minci #eula lawrence #yae miko #shenhe genshin impact #chiori genshin impact #rosaria genshin impact #navia genshin impact #furina genshin impact

[wifeyoozi]

When gameboi wonwoo isn't giving you enough attention so you take the matters in your own hands. (smut, MDNI, mild spanking and degradation)

Wonwoo had been spending a lot of time gaming recently and you know he isn't ignoring you on purpose, he probably isn't even noticing how little time he's spending with you these days and that's something you could change. You definitely could make yourself more attractive than Wonwoo's stupid games, right!?

You sigh dramatically as you enter Wonwoo's room with a mop. You put almost no effort into mopping, but Wonwoo is staring the fuck out of you. You try to ignore the tug at your lips threatening a smirk. You gotta be discreet.

"Y/n? What are you doing?"

"cleaning, why?" Wonwoo had muted his mic and had stopped smashing his keyboard, meaning your plan was working.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. "And what are you wearing?"

"An apron! Couldn't get myself dirty, y'know."

"and nothing underneath that." Wonwoo stated. He got up his chair, no longer bothered to win whatever game he was playing and walks up to you. You giggle when he holds both of your wrists and hold them above your head, the mop falling down.

It was that easy to get Wonwoo's attention back to you. All you had to do was roam around the house naked and he would come running to you like a dog coming for his food.

He's kissing you aggressively now, breathless as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. His other hand reach to untie the damn apron which hid nothing. His large hand roamed around the bare span of your body, from your back to your ass to your thighs and back at your ass, groping and squeezing the mass their. His mouth detached to yours and found itself on your neck, biting and bruising and marking. You moaned out his name as he began abusing your bare nipples now.

He then swiftly turns you around and pushes your face against the nearest wall, so that your ass was to him. He untied the strings of his sweatpants and took them off with his boxers in one go, his hard and big dick now throbbing against his torso. You are wet enough for him to slide in two fingers easily and he works them to scissor you open and prepare you for him.

When you re ready enough and give him the go, he plunged his dick in you. His glasses are fogged up as he fucks you fast. You moan and whimper his name everytime he hit your sweet spot. He spanks your ass a few times, calling you out for disturbing him and ruining his match and probably making him lose. Not that he really cared about those things when he was balls deep in you. Punishment sex was just sexy.

You mutter a sorry and your not builds up in your abdomen hearing him degrade you, calling you a needy slut. You know he's close too, from the way he stutters in speech and how his breath hitches. His fingers find your clit, giving you just the right stimulation to align your orgasm to his. He pulls out just in time, giving his dick a single jerk before he's nutting on your ass, painting the reddened flesh white.

He has to hold you from collapsing after you reach your high, your skin still tingling from the dopamine release. You both are panting.

"maybe next time you can just tell me when you want to fuck so I don't pop a boner while talking to my friends."

"Maybe next time don't go as long as three hours without giving me attention."

"Maybe next time you should sit on my lap and cockwarm me when I game."

#svt #seventeen #svt smut #svt x reader #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #gamebo1 wonwoo #yea the reader was t given attention for 3 whole hours #3 hours is equivalent of 3 months #reader is just hungry for Wonwoo's attention #i am reader #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #svt imagines #ceecee thots #i was a little drunk when i wrote this pls

[scaredbisexual]

MOOTS🥹 I am here to request🙏 Can I request a Joost Klein x reader enemies to lovers? Just a classic trope🤭

You ask and I deliver, my liege.

Dunno if it's enough lovers, if you would like me to elaborate in part two lemme know, I'm open to continuing this story!

Big, big kisses for my first request, too! Love ya!

And he did | Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary: ‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 

‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ 

Word count: 1011 (in half an hour no less, I'm crazy for him)

WARNINGS: some swearing, nothing explicit

Author's note: there is no use of Y/N, but the reader is referred to as "she" and is mentioned to wear a dress. I haven't yet mastered the ability to write those in a gn way, but gimme some time and I'll try to do better!

The corridors were lively as ever, curving and suddenly ending, loads of people walking around them and talking excitedly amongst each other. It was an important night, one that would be remembered by many for years and years to come. Everyone was ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins, silly and/or sexy costumes on, game-faces on. It was show-time. 

‘For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with!’ someone exclaimed from the side but she paid them no mind. She was walking hurriedly, her steps loud and heavy, chest raising rapidly, as if she has just run for hour hours on end. But she hasn’t, no, that was actually more exhausting. 

Rage. The pure rage that was born in her veins, surging through her system, flushing out every other emotion ever known to her. Rage that was born ages ago, eons before. 

Finally having reached her destination she pushed the heavy door to a dim-lit room, a certain name and surname decorating it. “Joost Klein” it read, a dorky-looking cutout of his face hanging right next to it. He must have done it himself. Yeah, that would make perfect sense, actually. 

She opened the door and right away closed it behind her, looking at the scene in front of her. Here he was, in his European-Union-Blue, his jacket laying on the floor, discarded in a hurry, looking sad when it only ever brought joy to people. And next to it, on a plush sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a teacup in hand, sat him. The reason for her rage, the man who made her see red.

He got startled at her entrance, the liquid sloshing in his cup and burning his hand. He hissed in pain and a grimace made its way on his face. A, objectively speaking, handsome face with a frown etched onto it, brows furrowed, eyes red. 

‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 

‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ the man replied, his voice thick with emotion, trying to act like it wasn’t. Like it was just him, the goofy guy with jokes and anecdotes up his sleeves. 

‘Like hell it does!’ she protested. It was hot in the room, so hot and heavy, the silence after her words suffocating them both. He slowly raised his head, turning around to look at her. He tilted his head to the side, silently posing a question. ‘I don’t like injustice, Joost, you know it.’ 

And it was true. She hated when she or others were getting fucked over, lied to, when bad things happened to good people, essentially. 

The rage was still there, it’s quiet bonfire still burning brightly, albeit a little dimmer, just a tad. She didn’t hear any ringing in her head anymore, just the labored breathing of him and her. Of them. 

And isn’t that funny? The both of them sitting in one room, eyeing one another and not saying a word. After all, it was more than usual for them to get into catfights, sneer at one another, jokingly (or not) tease. It has been like it forever, really, ever since they met at this one festival at the beginning of both of their career. It has been like that ever since he spilled his drink on her stage costume and then laughed, not sparing her another glance. 

Ever since they continued to meet on other festivals, her shooting daggers at his and his friends’ careless behavior, him sticking his tongue out at her and walking away. 

Ever since she tripped over one of the cables and bumped into him, causing him to drop one of the microphones and destroying it. Ever since she fought fiercely to not pay for such mike.

That moment, yes. The rage seemed to be saying, its fingers curling around her heart and clenching, stuffing her full of the need to sneer, to bite back. 

But how? How was she supposed to think of this careless teenage boy she met when she, too, was a stupid young girl? How to do it when there he was, curled on himself, dark bags under his eyes, the sleeves of his shirt uncuffed and crumpled, as if he squeezed them in his hands too much. A skipping rope laid somewhere in the mess of the room, discarded just like his jacket.

And so the silence continued while the room got colder and colder, her face softer and his eyes glassier. 

‘Fuck the EBU’ she muttered, walking closer to him. She approached the sofa, took a deep breath and sat next to him. The man followed her every move with his eyes, a glint of something making them shine. Or maybe it was just the unshed tears. 

‘Yeah’ he rasped. Joost shook his blonde hair, as if he were a dog, as if shaking off the sadness. He slapped a goofy looking grin on his face and wiggled his brows at her. ‘You worried or something?’ he teased, nudging her with his elbow. 

And that did it. In the speed of lightning she lounged herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. The kind that breaks bones and any internal barricades you may have. She put her chin on his head and waited. 

To give credit where credit’s due, he reacted instantly. He snaked his arms around her body, resting his forehead on her chest and taking a deep, shaky breath. 

‘You would’ve won this’ she whispered gently, stroking his hair. The rage was gone, the hot hot feeling fleeting the moment she saw his fake smile. Instead another kind of warmth bloomed in her chest, shaking her to her core. And he didn’t seem to fare any better, his shoulders slumping and fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. 

‘You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine’ she mumbled into his hair, stroking his back in soothing circles. ‘Breathe, Joost, just breathe’. 

And he did.

#joost klein #europapa #eurovision 2024 #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #justice for joost #joostice #eurovision song contest