#★ ;; Shout. ( text )

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part seven)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

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The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.

You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.

Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.

Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.

Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.

It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.

And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.

You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?

You reply: i am now.

You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.

The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.

You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.

He responds: I’ll win for you :)

Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.

This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.

The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.

He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.

Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.

“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.

Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.

As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.

“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.

“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”

The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.

When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.

He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.

The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.

You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.

When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.

Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.

Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.

Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.

��Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”

“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.

“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.

“Shit!” a guy shouts.

“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.

“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”

“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.

“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.

“And when do you study?” you say.

“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.

“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.

Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.

A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.

“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.

“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”

Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.

You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.

“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.

You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.

“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.

“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.

“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.

As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.

He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.

Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.

You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.

Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.

He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.

The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.

Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.

Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.

When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.

“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.

It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”

“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.

“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.

The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.

“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”

“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.

“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.

“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”

“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.

Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.

You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?

“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.

“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”

In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.

“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”

Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.

Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.

Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.

“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.

Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.

“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.

“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”

Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.

“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”

“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.

Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.

But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.

“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”

He can’t say Blake’s name.

“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.

“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.

“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”

“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”

“Especially you.”

“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”

Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.

“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.

“You said please,” he rasps.

“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.

“You gonna beg me for it again?”

“I did not beg,” you respond.

You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.

“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.

“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.

“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.

You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.

“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”

“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.

“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.

“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”

Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.

You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.

When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.

“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.

“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.

“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.

You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.

“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”

Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.

You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.

Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.

Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.

“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.

He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.

Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.

“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”

After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.

“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.

You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.

Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.

“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.

“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.

“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?

Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.

“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.

“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.

“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.

Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.

He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.

He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.

The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.

You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.

“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.

“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.

“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.

“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.

“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”

“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.

“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”

His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.

Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.

While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.

He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.

“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.

You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.

But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.

You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.

“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.

Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.

You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.

He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”

“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.

Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.

“Say please,” he teases.

“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.

He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.

“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”

His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.

Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.

It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.

You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.

“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”

“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.

His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.

Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.

After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.

You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.

He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.

He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.

Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.

“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.

It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.

“C-minus,” you say.

“What?”

“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.

You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.

He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.

But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.

He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.

But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.

When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.

He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.

After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.

Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you

Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone

Liv: hope you have fun lol :)

Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops

Then you see a block of text in the next notification.

Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

(part eight)

author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[starvity]

— ☆ zb1 reacting to you crying after an argument

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: angst turning into fluff // warnings: arguments and crying obviously, shouting

author’s note: thank you for requesting anonie <3 (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong

after an argument, you two would need your time by yourselves before approaching the problem. jiwoong withdraws in the kitchen, calming himself down and gathering his thoughts before heading to your shared room. before opening the door he hears a faint sound of your sobs and he sighs to himself. he enters the bedroom and notices you sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned to him. jiwoong approches you quietly, wraps his arms around your torso and strokes your shoulders. with reassuring words and apologies, he calms you down in order to have a serious talk together.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao

zhang hao is petty and would always want to have the last word. you guys would speak relatively loud (because hao is originally loud) but not to the point of yelling at you. every time you would try to finish the argument because the bickering was getting long and tiring, he would always bring something up and add fuel to the fire. you were trying to avoid arguing some more and declares that you were heading to the room to rest. hao apparently didn’t want to finish this later and he grabs your arm to make you turn around, while shouting your name rather loudly. you can’t help the tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him. his eyes soften as he takes you in his arms, constantly cursing himself for making you cry. will pamper you for the rest of the night as an apology.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin

100% the type to cry with you. hanbin is an empath and the argument most definitely occured just because you were mad or sad at something so he became sad too and since you were both sensitive now, the smallest disagreement caused conflict. would want to treat the problem immediately. when he realises that you will start yelling and rambling very soon, he suggests for you two to calm down and settle on the couch to talk. the open heart conversation made you cry and hanbin followed soon after, both overly apologising for hurting each other. throughout the conversation you notice how softly he looks at you and how attentive he is to your body language. "tell me the truth" he says when he notices your eyes avoiding his and "it’s okay, i’m here" when he feels your fingers anxiously play with his. you definitely take a power nap together after, exhausted from all the tears.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew

you hear the door opening followed by a loud thud as a bag drops to the floor; matthew is back from the gym. he had stayed there for a relatively long time today, probably to relieve stress after you two had an argument this morning. you had assured him through texts that you were fine but your puffy nose and red cheeks can't hide the fact that you had been crying the entire afternoon. after you hid your tissues under your pillow, you watch him as he slightly opens the door. matthew immediately notices your sad face and whines, rushing to your side. he laughs nervously, engulfing you in a hug and leaving pecks all over your face. "you shouldn't lie to me", he apologizes over and over again as he tickles you to try to set a happier mood.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae

it was never taerae's intention to raise his voice at you but he sometimes can't control how loud it is. you had been listening to him as he sits in front of the bedroom door that you had closed. apologizing, blaming himself, he had tried everything to get you to open the door for him and despite how much you want to hug him, you don't want him to see you in this state. he hears your sobs and he once again gets mad at himself. suddenly, taerae rests his back against the door and starts singing. you take a moment to calm down with his soft voice and finally open the door. he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, his face diving into the crook of your neck. the night is filled with sorry’s and i love you’s as he lulls you to sleep.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky

ricky spots you quietly crying on the couch after you had a small argument in his room an hour ago and he is unsure of how to treat the problem and how to comfort you. he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen and, without a word, hands it to you. while you quietly take a sip, he grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping your tears with a soft smile on his face. you pucker your lips, both as a sign of "i acknowledge this as an apology" and as a "i’m not mad at you anymore" and he giddily places a peck on your lips, then your nose and eventually all over your face. "i’m sorry" you two mutter at the exact same time and the coincidence makes you burst out loud, already forgetting about what you were mad about in the first place.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin

it was hard to hide your tears from gyuvin who has been stuck to your side as soon as the argument toned down a bit. you had probably never seen him this quiet and it makes you think about how hurt he must’ve been. it was your first big fight with gyuvin and you’re still scared about how you’re supposed to solve it. you’re sitting on his lap, hugging, as you both stroke each other’s back. you pull back to look at him and notice his big round and sparkly eyes. he swipes his finger under your eye before the tear can roll down your cheek and you cradle his face in return, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook

soft touches!! gunwook tries his best to understand and listen to you and he always makes an effort to be a good boyfriend overall. you couldn't help your sobs, feeling a bit embarrassed about how you were soaking his hoodie while crying on his shoulder. when you're done crying and ready to apologise for crying too hard because you were just being too emotional, he stops you. "it's okay to cry, you're all good" gunwook says softly, placing your head back on his shoulder as he glides his fingers through your hair. you end up talking all night about each other's concerns and feelings which definitely reinforced your relationship.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin

honestly speaking, he might avoid you at first. teasing and bickering would be a common thing in you and yujin's relationship because you're still young and a bit childish sometimes. however, it was the first time such an intense fight happened. you could both hear each other's sobs as you awkwardly sit on the couch but you were purposely ignoring each other. out of spite? maybe. but out of fear? surely. when the room gets quieter, yujin finally speaks "why are you mad?" he asks bluntly. you glare at him, tears already building up again before he blurts out a "sorry." you pat his head, realising that he is just trying his best to apologise. give him some time and do not take his sometimes clumsy and honest comments to heart, he is still learning :)

[lovings4turn]

ᯓ★  𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe. 

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked. 

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked. 

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories. 

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything. 

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle. 

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn. 

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to. 

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment. 

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss. 

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal. 

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn. 

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow. 

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour. 

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you. 

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day. 

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment. 

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day. 

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance. 

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with. 

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was. 

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips. 

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim. 

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

[ilythena]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 || 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM falling in love with Quinn was bad, but realizing you loved him was worse.

friends to lovers! My fav trope, Arguing and Quinn thinks you’re too good for your boyfriend, distance, angst, mutual pining, there are slight mentions of a very toxic relationship and abuse so please be advised before reading any further below the line. NOT proofread so……

♪ FIREWORKS - DRAKE

“Quinnifer, pass me the pepper?” “Stop calling me that.”

Cooking spaghetti with a grumbling Quinn over your shoulder, you smile when he begrudgingly hands you what you need and goes back to watching you make the food.

It’s a normal routine for you two, being roommates in college and then eventually working in the same field when Quinn got accepted into umich and you became a part of the medical team for them as an intern and a student, it was pretty difficult to separate you two.

“You excited for the fourth? I can’t wait for the fireworks!” You squeal, and quinn lets out a small smile at your excitement. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to as you about that.” He says, and you turn your eyes off the food for a second to let him know to continue, and he sighs out before speaking. “I was wondering if you wanted to come hang with me and my family? My parents keep asking about how you are and they miss you” he shys out and you laugh.

You met Quinn’s family completely on accident. Last year, Your mutual friend was hanging out with him and when you had stopped by the house he was in, Quinn and his whole family was there as well. It wasn’t awkward for a second, his mother opening up her arms to you and it was like you were with your own family.

“Actually, my parents are going out the country so i’d love to! How are your parents? Your Brothers too.” You turn off the stove and move to grab two plates, making them for you two.

“They’re good. They miss you too, especially Luke.” Quinn grabs a fork and sits down, not hesitating to eat as soon as you put his plate down. “Aww, I miss lukey too! He’s my favorite.” You smirk and laugh when quinn huffs in disapproval.

Looking down at your phone, the date is December 26th, 2017. You can see a few text from your mother and some friends, but ultimately decide to put your phone down when Quinn turns on the TV and plays your favorite show. Nothing can compared to right now.

“Hey, Quinn?” You say, Quinn hums and you grab a blanket to cover your lap. “Is it cool if I bring my boyfriend along? Cause I already know you’re bringing a few friends along.” Quinn stops chewing for a second, but lets out a ‘sure’, despite him secretly not wanting to.

Quinn and your boyfriend don’t have the most ideal relationship. It was pretty good in the beginning, but when you and your boyfriend started arguing more and more Quinn started to hold grudges against him. Trying to convince you to break up with him multiple times and failing, him and your boyfriend have this secret animosity that they can’t seem to bring up with each other.

“I know you two don’t get along, I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior if he decides to come along. Cause with or without him I’ll be there regardless quinnifer, I promise.” You smile and he groans at the cheesy nickname you’ve given him.

The next time you see Quinn’s family again is on December 31st, New Year’s Eve.

Everyone’s here. Quinn’s friends, luke and jack’s friends, family friends, random people you’re not sure Quinn even knows, everyone.

You can smell hamburgers in the air and you’re taking a sip of the water you have in your hand when Luke gently grabs you by the shoulder to say hello.

“Lukey!” You shout, grabbing him in excitement after finally being able to see the youngest Hughes after a while. “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you all night!” He smiles, swaying the two of you back and forth as you two laugh together. “I’m not that hard to find, eh?” “Well, Quinn wasn’t any help at all.” You hear another voice groan and you can see Jack with a bag of chips in his hand when you let go of Luke to hug him as well

“He’s never any help.” you joke and steal a chip from the bag while Jack snatches it back although too late. “True.” Your boyfriend says and with a side eye, you’re suddenly reminded of his presence. “Oh! Jack, Luke, I don’t think I’ve ever introduced you to my boyfriend! This is Dallas.” You say, motioning your hands to him as he waves a hand hello.

“Nice to meet you.” He says and extends a hand out in greeting. The two boys look at each other in a way you can’t describe and hesitantly reach out to shake his hand. As you watch them talk to each other, you spot Ellen in the corner of your eye and walk up to her to say hello.

“Oh! Y/n! I haven’t seen you in a while!” She says with happiness evident in her voice as she hugs you. “Mrs.Hughes! I missed you!” “Hun, you can call me Ellen” slowly letting you go so that you can say hello to Jim as well, you tell Them about how college is going for you, letting them know all the details they please.

As they get wrapped up into another conversation with someone else, you take a seat on a chair that’s been left alone and take in the sight of everyone getting along infront of you.

You only get about 5 minutes to relax before Quinn pops up beside you, not saying anything because he didn’t want to interrupt your focus. You turn your head to look at a tree and magically see Quinn and he smiles at you.

“Hey.” “Hey!” You two say to each other and laugh. “You okay? Everything alright?” “Yeah, this is great. Thanks for inviting me, Quinnifer.” You softly grab his hand and he can feel heat rushing to his face. “You’re welcome” he mumbles and you let out a toothy grin.

You’re enjoying the comfortable silence with Quinn, letting the conversations near you two and the wind blowing do all the talking for you two. Quinn’s mom calls him over and he nods to you in a ‘I’ll see you later’ way while you wave him goodbye.

You’re left alone again sitting in silence, when suddenly a dark shadow is casting over you. You look towards the cause of it and there stands your boyfriend—unhappy and irritated.

“Can I help you?” Brushing the hair out of your face, you look him up and down and it’s as if he’s had enough. he grabs you by your arm, yanks you up, and pulls you farther outside where nobody can see you two unless they go looking.

“Actually, yes you fucking can, y/n.” He snaps and you mentally roll your eyes at what could have possibly happened in the 10 minutes you were gone.

“You think I didn’t see that? That little thing you and him did? I’m so tired of you sitting here and pretending like nothings going on with you two.”

“Pretending what’s going on with us, Dallas? There is nothing going on.” Leaning on the tree to your right, you can see the anger rising in his face.

“Oh yeah, act oblivious like you always do. You know, if you were gonna sit up here and be a whore in front of my face, why did you even invite me here?” He yells, the wind blowing harder and the leaves shaking under their wrath. “Dallas, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted you to come here because I know all of our friends are here and I didn’t want you to feel left out simply because it’s at Quinn’s parents house.”

“Go to hell, y/n. That man is in love with you and you have the fucking audacity to invite me here? Fucking bitch.” Your throat closes in on you when he steps closer to you, eyes black and unreadable.

“If you hate him so much why did you come! Just because I invited you doesn’t mean you had to say yes! I’m so sick of these petty arguments!” Standing up straight to walk away, he slams you back into the tree. You wince in pain, your back taking most of the damage.

“Dallas, let me go” you whisper, and his grip on you only tightens. “Or what? What are you gonna do, y/n? Call Quinn over to help you? I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” Roughly gripping your chin between his fingers to force you to look up at him, the only thing you can feel is fear.

“Hello? Anyone back here?” A voice calls out, and you can immediately tell right off the bat it’s Quinn. In the moment of your boyfriend’s distraction, you make a run for it. Bolting out of the tree he had you against and running straight into the house.

You got a few concerned stares speeding up the stares, and the anxiety in your stomach stirred harder when you heard your boyfriend and Quinn arguing outside.

You ran right into Quinn’s room and slammed the door, heavy breathing and tears streaming down your face. After what felt like a minute to you but in reality was about 15, you could hear steps outside of Quinn’s room and the door slowly opening.

It was Quinn. It’s always Quinn. You can’t control the sobbing when you see him and he doesn’t hesitate to softly close the door and comfort you with gentle words and a grounding hug.

Your sobs simmer down into soft sniffles and Quinn has his arms wrapped around you tightly. No words said between you two, but a knowing understand.

After wiping the remaining tears off your face, you can see the softest look on Quinn’s face when he looks down at you. “Why didn’t you tell me he was like that?” He whispered and despite the heaviness of the situation, you let out a dry chuckle

“It was different this time.” You croak out. “It was like a different version of him. I mean, we’ve been having issues a lot recently but he’s never reacted to it like this.” Snuggling you closer to him, Quinn tucks your face into his neck and rubs your back.

He freezes when you let out a small hiss, moving his hand off your upper back to see a few bruises forming from his treatment of you earlier.

“Did he fucking hit you?” He states quickly, to which you might’ve taken a second too long to answer because you can see the confused-angry-sadness rise onto his face.

“H-he didn’t like hit me! Like, he slammed me into the tree and grabbed me really rough, which I know isn’t-“ “y/n. I just want you to be okay.” Letting out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, you melt into Quinn’s chest and he presses a small kiss into your hairline.

“I am okay.” You breathe out and he closes his eyes to properly collect himself. “Has he ever done that before?” “…..he’s never hit me before. He’s broken a lot of stuff before. That was all. I irritated him a lot, and maybe I should’ve-“

“Don’t you even dare to think that anything he did was your fault.” Cutting you off and looking you dead in your eyes, you give up on your words and just slump against him in silence.

You two stay there for a while, just sitting against each other and you’re taking in what truly happened.

The months are seeming to move quicker. Before you know it, Quinn’s being drafted.

He’s moved out, the apartment you two shared being eerily quiet as you sit down in the living room, watching the tv on a low volume.

Pictures of you and Quinn are still up on the walls, and everything Quinn left behind hasn’t been touched since he left you. It’s not like you two stopped talking, but it’s definitely been less since the distance between you two.

Playing with an abandoned string on the side of your cardigan, you realize it’s too quiet. And it’s making you sad.

As if he knew what was happening, your phone lit up with Quinn’s contact on your phone. You picked it up immediately and his voice came through the speaker.

“Hey, you okay?” “Yeah, ‘m fine.” “What’re you doing? Taking good care of the apartment?” You can hear rustling in the back of the call, which makes you smile a little

“Everything’s fine. Stuck right where you left it, Quinn.” You whisper, and he frowns on the other side of the line. “What’s wrong?” “Nothings wrong.” “Somethings wrong, y/n. You don’t call me Quinn unless you’re upset.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hesitate for a moment before whispering a very quiet “just miss you.” The phone barely picks it up but Quinn can hear it, and it tugs at his heart.

After the incident at the New Year’s party, you two grew impossibly closer. This was his first time being so far away from you in a long time and he knew how badly it was affecting you.

“Miss you too. If your schedules still the same, I might be able to come see you? I have a little off time.” He can hear you jump over the phone, immediately booking a ticket when you let the first letter of please come out of your mouth.

“I’ll come see you on Wednesday, how does that sound? I’ll stay until Sunday.” And you’re blocking out all plans on those days, a bright smile on your face.

Your nerves eat at you for those two days you had to wait until Quinn arrived, Nearly jumping on him as soon as he touched down in the airport. You were near him a lot, and when you were scared you were being clingy he shut those fears down immediately and told you how much he missed you too.

“You really did leave everything the same, huh? Guess my artistic skills are so good there’s nothing to change.” He jokes and you scoff “well… I did take down that hideous curtain design you chose.” Giggling when he gasps in fake offense.

“I miss this place a lot, you know? It’s always like I’m home here.” “Well before you get comfortable, take off the shoes. I don’t need dirt on my floor.”

You two sat on the couch and talked. You two talked for hours, as if it was a part of normal routine for you two.

“How’s Vancouver? Heard it’s nice” you mumbled, and he smiles softly. “Good. It’s good. Would be better if you were with me, though.” Grinning you nudge him and he looks at you with an undistinguishable look.

“I’m serious. You always told me how you were looking to be in the medical team for the nhl, and the canucks need a new team member. I think you should come with me when I go back so I can introduce you to the team-“ “what? Quinn, you can’t just surprise me with that!” Sitting upright, he laughs as if he wasn’t trying to literally convince you to move.

“Where would I even stay-“ “stay with me. I’ll always let you stay with me, y/n” “I’m not gonna burden you with that.” “How would it be a burden if I’m offering it to you?”

Eyes softening, you’re left speechless. Taking your silence as a nudge to continue, Quinn lets his truth out. “I know how hard it is for you staying here. Kidra told me you were crying a few days ago because it was too lonely for you. I know you miss me, and I really fucking miss you, y/n.”

You two stare at each other for a second, and before you knew it your lips were on his and all the breath you had in your lungs were knocked out. “Come with me, come with me and I swear to everything you won’t regret it. I want you so badly, and my family already thinks we’re basically dating.”

The soft brown locks of Quinn’s hair between your fingers becomes more apparent when you come back to reality. “I want you too. And I want to come with you. I’m scared, Quinn.” “Don’t be. I’ll be here with you. I’m willing to do anything with you.”

The warm summer air is flowing through your window, sending a shiver down your spine. This is your chance. This is what you’ve thought about since he’s left. Wondering when you could be with him again.

“Yes. Yes I’ll go. Fuck, should I pack a bag? I need to book a ticket. Are we going now? What’s happening-“ with another kiss to your lips, you two lay on the couch enjoy each others presence once more.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning. Right now, I just want you in my arms.”

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

Very abrupt ending but I genuinely wanted to post today. Going on break soon, so more fics coming very soon!

[cosmicanakin]

Hi, can you do an imagine about pranking vinnie, and telling him to try not to annoy you today, please

★ PRANKS.

੭୧ . . . vinnie hacker x female!reader.

ᯓ you prank your boyfriend by telling him not to annoy you and it backfires, which wasn't what you expected.

warning(s) angst┆pranks┆emotional distress┆crying. 𓇼 thank you for requesting anon babe ! i'm sorry if it wasn't exactly how you wanted it but i hope you enjoy <3 mature content!

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

you wake up feeling mischievous, plotting a prank to play on your unsuspecting boyfriend vinnie. thinking up the perfect plan to really mess with him, you can't help the smirk forming as he slowly stirs awake.

leaning over, you whisper in his ear "good morning baby." however, your usually sweet tone holds an underlying edge of irritation that has vinnie blinking in confusion. before he can say anything, you continue in a clipped manner.

"i'm already annoyed so don't bother me at all for the rest of the day, okay? i mean it." his eyebrows furrow, clearly taken aback by your sharp words. searching your face for any sign that it's a joke, hurt washes over him as you give no indication you don't seriously want space.

"okay..." he says hesitantly, hurt flickering in his eyes as he climbs out of bed. part of you feels guilty seeing how your prank is already affecting him, but you're determined to commit fully to the bit. hopefully he'll catch on soon that you're messing with him.

throughout the morning, vinnie keeps his distance as asked, seeming uneasy and unsure what to do to not annoy you further. any attempts at jokes or affection are met with exaggerated irritation, cementing in his mind that you genuinely need space from him.

it grows harder to maintain your façade as his usual cheerfulness fades into guarded silence. by midday, remorse is gnawing a hole in your gut seeing how dejected vinnie appears. when he recoils from your touch with worried eyes, you can no longer take it.

"vinnie, i need to tell you something," you start, grabbing his arm as he tries to walk away. he pauses but doesn't turn, shoulders hunched in defeatedly. "this was all just a stupid prank baby, i don't actually want space from you."

whirling around, hurt and anger flash across his features. "a prank? i thought you were seriously pissed off at me! you had me questioning everything all day," he shouts, hurt turning to rage the longer he processes how badly you messed with him.

"i'm sorry, it was just a joke. i didn't mean to actually upset you,” you scramble to apologize but he brushes past, heading for the door. "where are you going?" panic surges through you, worrying you may have broken the fragile trust between you.

"i just need to be alone for a while, i can't even look at you right now," he spits venomously before slamming the front door behind him. collapsing to the floor, you pull your knees up to your chest as quiet sobs escape your lips.

hours pass with no word from vinnie, your texts and calls going unanswered in a painful silence. night falls heavily, adding to your despair wondering if you pushed him too far this time. just as you're about to give up hope, the door creaks open slowly.

lifting your head, you see vinnie standing uncertainly in the doorway, eyes puffy and red-rimmed from his own tears. without a word, he crosses over and falls into your waiting embrace, holding on for dear life. neither of you speak for a long while, simply taking comfort in being close again.

finally, vinnie pulls back enough to look at you with watery eyes. "i'm still so fucking mad at you but i love you too much to walk away. just promise me no more stupid pranks, okay?" he pleads brokenly.

"i promise, i'm so sorry sweetheart. can you ever forgive me?" you ask, cupping his face gently. he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips in acceptance of your apology. holding each other tightly, you both silently vow to communicate better to avoid such hurt in the future.

your love proves stronger than any misstep could fracture, bonding that transcends fleeting fallouts. here in sanctuary of each other's arms rediscovered, all remnants of shadows melt under floods of forgiveness' warmth. two souls learn as one, growing through missteps refined to blossoms entwining roots anchored in understanding deeper than any sea. this you vow eternally, to cherish the blossoms arising where hearts intertwine.

[sturniologals]

Make it up to you -m.s

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆

Dom!Matt x fem!reader

in which~ y/n had a crush on Matt but his friends/football teammates found out and teased you about it, he joined in on the teasing to hide the fact that he has feelings for you but six months later, you’re desperate for a ride to school and Matt is your only option.

warnings~ p in v/ unprotected (don’t be silly,wrap up your willy)/ use of baby, sweetheart, y/n, praise kink, cursing

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

I stretched my limbs as I tried to peel my eyes open from my sleepy state. "y/n! Hurry up!" My mom shouted at me, afraid id miss the bus.

"Frickity frickity Frick" I mumbled to myself as I looked over at my phone and saw the time reading 7:15, my bus runs in literally like 7 minutes, theres no way I was gonna make it. I opened up my contacts and called and texted at least five of my friends in hope that I could get a ride from one of them but I failed.

I clicked on my last contact I was going to try and started to call my friend Nick.

She answered and her soft voice spoke "Hey y/n!"

"Hey Nick! Is there any possible way that you could give me a ride to school today?" She hummed to herself as she thought about it.

"im sorry girl, Matt took my car today. He has some thing after school but I can call him. He should be able to pick you up!" He chimes.

"No no no, id rather walk. Thank you tho." I say before we bid our goodbyes and hang up.

I meant that, i really would rather walk. Matthew sturniolo has been my biggest enemy since last year, when I first started high school and became friends with Nick. I had an obvious crush on matt even though he was a bit older. His friends found out because matt overheard me talking to Nick about it one time and his friends started to tease me about it and eventually matt joined in and ever since then, they make jokes and poke fun at me anytime I see them.

"y/n! Why are you still in your fucking pajamas?" My mom says angrily from my door.

"Mom its okay, matt is gonna give me a ride!" I spurt out quickly, just not wanting to get into an argument with her.

“Matt? oh! It’s been forever since you guys have hung out.” My mom says, her mood quickly changing to a more joyous one. I roll my eyes at her words and she tells me she loves me before she leaves out for work.

I stand up and put on a pair of black jeans and a dark blue body suit that accentuates my body perfectly. I finish straightening my hair, my luscious blonde locks flowing perfectly down my shoulders. I sit down at my vanity and apply a few makeup products, really just mascara, and a bit of highlighter. Mid way through my routine, i remember i haven’t called Matt yet. My hands start to tremble a bit as i scroll through my contacts in search of his name.

I reluctantly click the call button under his name and the ringing of my phone makes me shudder. After just two rings, he picks up.

“Y/n?” His deep voice grumble from the speakers on my phone.

“Hi Matt! Can you give me a ride to school?” I say peppily, not wanting him to give me any shit.

“I’ll be there in five.” He says before hanging up.

well, that was easy. i think to myself before spritzing myself with some perfume and slipping on my shoes. I grab my bag and walk through my house.

I get to the front door and see trey pulling in.

perfect timing.

The sight of Matts truck parked in my driveway makes me nervous. I push the nervousness down, pulling all of the courage i have out of me and I start walking down my driveway.

Once i step out of my door, he immediately steps out of his truck and walks to the passenger side and opens the door up. He stands leaning on the door, a small smile on his face.

why is he being so fucking nice?

“Hi y/n.” He says in a seductive voice while his eyes trail over my body. The way he’s looking at me sends a heat straight to my core but i try my best to ignore it. I shoot Matt a side eye and a nod of my head as i step up into his truck. He places his hand on my lower back for support as i climb into his vehicle which has me crossing my legs in the passenger seat. Matt looks at me with a hungry look in his eyes as he shuts the door for me and walks over to the driver side.

He climbs into the seat and takes a deep breath in before turning the key over.

“Thanks for picking me up.” I say in the most nonchalant way that i can.

“Yeah, i mean- you haven’t talked to me in almost 6 months so i was surprised you’d wanted me to.” Matt says while looking at me, our eye contact holding strong.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” I say with a shrug of my shoulders and i can see the pain flash in his eyes as i finish my sentence off and i immediately feel bad.

“No- I didn’t mean-“ I start to correct myself but he cuts me off.

“I get it y/n. I really do- don’t apologize sweetheart. I’ve been an asshole to you for so long and i let my friends make jokes and i’m just- i’m so fucking sorry. I was a coward because you made me- feel things.” Matt spurts out, his confession surprising me but making my heart skip a beat and my pussy convulse at the name he called me.

“Matt-“ I start to speak but he cuts me off yet again.

“Can you come to my football game tonight?” He asks impatiently as he starts to pull out of my driveway.

“Matt, you know i hate going to school functions.”

“Please” He says quickly.

“Okay, i’ll be there.” I say reluctantly. I don’t even really know why he wants me there but it seems important so i agree.

The rest of the ride is silent, just Matt glancing at me every few minutes and at some point his large hands made their way to my knee, slowly trailing up my thigh as i squirmed around in my seat, Matt glancing at my neediness but his hand never moved to my heat.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Matt says as we pull up next to the busy school entrance.

“Aren’t you coming?” I ask him.

“I’ll be here later.” He says with a small smile as he unbuckles my seat belt for me and walks around to open my door. His truck is raised high off of the ground but Matt is so tall that his head is still up to my level when he’s standing on the ground in-front of me. He puts his hands around my waist and picks me up out of his truck. I giggle as he sits me down on the ground. He chuckles and tells me he’ll see me later.

As i walk into school, all that’s going through my head is Matt.

the things he said to me were definitely more than ‘friendly’

why is he being so nice?

is this another joke?

the way his hands were all over me tho…

sweetheart?

why does he want me at his game tonight?

i made him feel things?

what things?

i spend the rest of my school day and the whole ride home and the whole time i’m getting ready for the football game also thinking about Matt. The thoughts about him in my head are inevitably erotic and i genuinely can’t help it.

My mom drops me off at the game and i pull at the tight shorts on my legs as i hop out of the car. I walk up into the bleachers and i find a seat that gives me a perfect view of the field. Matt comes out of now where and runs up to the fence that separates us.

“c’mere!” he says loudly, i can see his friends behind him starting to laugh and i get nervous and all of memories of them poking fun at me make me sick and i want to run out of there.

“y/n baby, i said to come here.” Matt demands in a soothing yet firm voice that makes me feel safe. His friends behind him starts staring and looking confused. I am too but i listen to try and walk over to stand over the fence. His eye black is starting to smudge and his hair is tousled perfectly and i’m so close that i can smell his manly musk.

As soon as i’m standing slightly over Matt, he pulls his hands up to my head and pulls me down to him and immediately shoves his lips onto mine. The feeling of his mouth moving over mine is something i’ve wanted to feel for so fucking long. I groan into his mouth as his tongue slips into mine and i can taste the saltiness of his mouth and i’m

craving more. I audibly groan when he pulls away, his lips swollen and pink as he runs back to the field. His friends just staring at him angrily and confused as he flips them off and walks down the field with a smile on his face.

what the fuck just happened?

and why is his whole football team staring at me?

Matt yells at his friends from across the field.

“hey! shitheads! stop staring at my girl and get your asses down here.”

I get butterflies at him calling me ‘his girl’ but then i remember the months of teasing he let his friends do to me and i wipe the smile off of my face quickly. Maybe i should let myself enjoy this tho?

Throughout the whole game, my internal monologue argues with itself. By the end of the game, i decide i want to give him a chance. I believe what he told me. Matt sweaty figure runs up to the fence at the end of the game, they won of course. I’m clapping and smiling at Matt, his eyes looking directly into mine. He puts his arms out over the fence and motions for me to walk over. I do so and he puts his hands on my waist and picks me up over the fence and pulls me onto the field. I smile up at him and he immediately kisses me again.

His friends and even his coach “oooo”-ing at us as he gives me a desperate yet gentle kiss.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you showed up to my house with your fucking sparkly pink jump rope for cheer practice almost two years ago.” he whispers into my ear as he pulls away. My face goes red with embarrassment.

“You played good.” I say with a proud smile.

He flashes his white teeth at me before one of his friends, jacob, comes up behind Matt. i sigh and immediately get nervous because jacob was one of the main people who teased me. Matt looks over at jacob with sharp eyes, as if he’s warning him to not say anything to me. Jacob just smiles at me. “I’m sorry y/n, i was a dick to you and owen for a long time.”

I nod with a small thin lipped smile.

“you wanna get out of here sweetheart?” owen says to me. I nod my head and he smiles at me as he takes my hand and walks us out of the stadium.

as we walk through the busy parking lot, murmurs from people in our small town are heard.

“ew he’s like- old as fuck.”

“didn’t he literally bully her?”

i block out the noise, Matt squeezing my hand as a sign of comfort.

We get into his truck and i immediately look over at him. “Matt. why?”

he looks at me confusedly. “why what?”

“why did you want me to come tonight?” i ask timidly. He laughs out loud and i grow confused.

“you’re oblivious. I wanted you here tonight so i could kiss you in front of all of the assholes who used to give you shit.” he says with a genuine smile of happiness as he rubs his hand up and down my leg.

“Oh.” I say quietly as it clicks in my head. “Oh!” i say once i get it.

“cmon sweetheart it’s late. i’ll get you home.” Matt says as he reaches over to buckle my seatbelt for me, his long fingers grazing over my chest. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and heat grows between my legs as owen starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot. His hand is resting on my thigh and quiet music plays, my window cracked slightly allowing some of the cold friday night breeze to flow through the cab of his truck. Every smidge of cold air that hits my skin makes me shudder. My body is extremely sensitive to the touch right now. I look over at owen and his dark eyes are trained on his hand that’s resting on my leg. “you’re so beautiful y/n.” Matt says in a low, seductive voice as his thumb draws circles on my inner thigh.

“pull over.” I say nervously, trying to muster up all of the courage that i have. Matt smirks, knowing what i want as he pulls over by an empty desolate park by some trees that offer a good enough coverage. As soon as he shifts into park, i immediately swing my legs over his lap so i’m straddling. My lips are on his in a hot, sweaty and passionate kiss. The smell of sweat and grass still on Matt makes me impossibly needier.

All of a sudden- Matt pulls my face back.

“Patience baby.” Matt says with an attractive chuckle.

“you’re not gonna fucking tease me all day and then tell me to have patience Matt.” i say firmly as i slowly start to rock my hips back and forth on him, making him groan out.

“oh- don’t- god, y/n.” he says as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together.

“Nuh uh, you owe me six months worth of apologies. You’re gonna be the one making me feel good, yeah?” i say deviously as i cease my movements. Matt eyes open up and meet mine, a smile playing across his features as he laughs and nods his head yes.

“i guess you’re right about that one sweetheart.” he says as he quickly puts a hand on my back and turns me so my back is against the passenger door of his truck as he pulls my ankles up to his shoulders. I groan out as i arch my back needily.

“calm down pretty girl. let me take care of you.” he says softly as he pulls my shorts down my hips. His eyes clench shut together for a second. “you’re so perfect.” he praises as he starts to kiss up my thighs.

“Matt…” i moan out as he gets closer to my core.

he starts to kiss over my clothed cunt before slowly pulling my panties down.

“you’re so soaked. all because of me?” he speaks seductively as i bring my fingers up to his hair and pull his head closer to my pussy impatiently. He laughs out loud before licking a stripe up me which pulls a loud moan out of me. His tongue moves against me quickly and skillfully, pulling more and more noises from me.

“Oh you’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” He says against my cunt before ducking on my bundle of nerves.

“Matt- i’m gonna-“ i pant out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Finish in my mouth, let me taste you.” he says, which sends me over the edge, screaming his name as his head gets squeezed between my clenching thighs.

I pant out as i come down from my high as owen continues to lick me clean like a starved man.

“good?” he asks with an egotistical expression on his face.

“i’ve had better.” i say sarcastically with a shrug.

“Yeah i bet.” he says as he pulls my shorts back up my legs for me.

I sit up straight and fix my hair in his mirror before i buckle my seat belt and Matt starts to drive again.

“y/n” Matts deep voice speaks out, diverting my attention to him.

“hm?” I hum out.

“I love you.” he says with a small nervous smile on his face. My stomach immediately erupts in butterflies and a smile forms on my face.

“I love you too.” I say as i intertwine my fingers with his.

[noira-l]

𝐉𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: You are back into dating life, he isn't jealous - of course.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: swearing, light argument.

author's note: Satoru definitely knows how to admit his feelings, of course. The complexity of this situation is quite amusing, I must admit. I love writing complicated situations hehe…. my little guilty pleasure :3

"Why are you like this?" you shouted right in his face. You stood in the threshold of your flat, trying to snatch your wrist from his hand.

It was another date of yours that ended tragically.

All because of him.

"How could he? He's not for you, just look at him, he's a weakling and he's got weird teeth. Seek a higher standard." his pressure on your hand didn't diminish.

You've started dating again for a while now. You've found that since you can't be fully happy with what life you have, you won't waste it like an old maid.

You've been missing tenderness, romance, relationships, and you're not going to find that in your pretend 'marriage', so you're going to look for it elsewhere.

This didn't please Satoru, who had noticed for some time that you were sitting on your phone more than usual, laughing into the screen more often and making cute faces. And you even sat up late texting with someone while he, on the other side of the bed, was trying to sleep. You've even started leaving the house more, coming home quite late and generally taking more care of yourself. He noted, when you got your nails done for the first time in a while. He didn't seem to mind.

Did Satoru complain though? Yes.

He complained because you stopped paying attention to his silly words, his jokes and his behaviour in general. You didn't neglect your duties to Megumi and Tsumiki, or your duties as a sorcerer. You simply neglected him. You didn't buy him sweets anymore, you didn't leave sticky notes reminding him of his duties, you didn't even bother with him not eating the dinner you cooked.

He knew something was up.

Satoru had only fully connected the dots when you were very very late one time. You were supposed to be home two hours ago, you were supposed to change him in care, he was about to leave on a mission and had to pack. He was already starting to worry, so he packed quickly and was going to leave to look for you. What was his surprise when he opened the door, only to find you kissing passionately with some guy in the stairwell, you pulled away from each other as he opened the door. Your make-up was smudged a little, your red lipstick slightly smeared, your hair in a light disarray and your eyes half-open and sparkling.

Embarrassed, you said goodbye to your date, who sent you a warm goodbye smile. You walked inside through the open door, apologised to him for being late, took off your heels and passed by without saying hello to him in any way. And he stood for 3 seconds longer in disbelief, looking at the exact spot where you two were standing seconds ago. Then he closed the door and was quiet for the rest of the evening.

The curse he was about to exorcise got all his frustration, nerves and long comments about 'how could you do this to him' as he sadistically played with her. It helped, but only a little. His nerves only subsided on the outside, on the inside he felt an unpleasant pressure in his heart, he blamed it on the amount of chocolates he consumed after the mission (which he reached for when he was feeling particularly shitty).

His bitterness was doubled by the fact, that when he returned from mission in the evening, he found you and another man watching a film on your projector, on your sofa, drinking your favourite wine in your apartment.

Something snapped in him then, and he promised himself that he didn't want to see you in such circumstances, especially with someone other than him.

In that moment, all moral quandaries he had about you and him were thrown out of the window.

He wanted your attention.

Only yours and only for him.

You weren't happy with the fact that he pretended to trip over the cable, turning off the projector, saying that this was by accident, while riddling your date with weird questions and yapping about you and himself, making both you and your date uncomfortable.

There were more and more situations like this.

From being very touchy when someone walked you home, to finding you out on the town to "bump into you by accident", especially then dressing himself best, to make quite an impression.

Today, he crossed your boundaries when one of the best dates you've ever had, walked you home, just to be driven away with a growl to 'keep his hands off his wife'.

"You know very well what I mean-" you retorted tugging even more. "Let me go!"

"He shouldn't have done that. He had no right to touch you like that." his voice rose in strength.

"As if you have any right to do that." you were furious, you couldn't understand why he was doing anything to spoil any chance of potential happiness for you.

"I have. I'm your husband, no?" he pulled you a little closer to him. You snarled indignantly.

"Only on paper!" oh, you were quite pissed, but you continued.

"Now you want to pretend to be a 'loving husband'? Please don't ridicule yourself! You're angry because I stopped paying attention to you, don't pretend you cared about me in this situation." His pressure on your wrist eased minimally, you instead felt a lump grow in your throat and tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

You really wanted to be happy.

After Suguru left, you missed him, but you also missed his genuine care for you and the love you shared with him. You would like to have that again. Even if being happy with him isn't an option, it didn't block you from finding happiness elsewhere.

It took you a long time to come to terms with that and open yourself up to that possibility. And now he wants to take it away from you?

"Since you're only thinking about yourself. Why aren't you go on a date yourself?! One smile and you already have most people at your feet!" you clenched your teeth as you said it, trying to stifle the tears that wanted to run down your cheeks.

"I don't do that as you can see!"

"Why?!!" you were on the verge of crying, you couldn't look at him anymore.

In fact, Satoru tried to go on a date a couple of times.

His task was made much easier, with most people simply coming to him on their own, seeking his attention wherever he appeared. He took advantage of this opportunity a few times. He invited a couple of people, who seemed quite interesting to him for coffee or to a restaurant.

Only to find out how boring they were, or how much something was missing in them for him to enjoy this time with them, as a date.

He was really picky and could pick on the smallest details. He did not know why this was happening. Someone's hair didn't suit him, the colour of their eyes wasn't right, or even their personality. Until he realised that he was subconsciously comparing all these people to you.

And how did he find this out?

He spent an entire date with a certain beautiful girl - who, from the looks of it, was his dream come true - texting with you, about how cute Megumi and Tsumiki look in the costumes you made for them, for the club day at their school, praising you for your good work.

He didn't even notice that the girl disappeared at one point, leaving him, bored waiting for his attention. So he came home earlier than he'd anticipated, showered you with compliments and requests to take a family photo together - all dressed like this. Your smile was so adorable and your cheeks slightly pink, as you received more and more compliments about yourself and how great you were at looking after the siblings.

That's when he proved to himself, that he is absolutely not interested in anyone, but you.

Satoru scoffed and frowned. His face looked like angry kitten. "We never set it up to be an open marriage."

You growled. "Again with this? What is it about?" you saw his face. "No." you started laughting "Nononono. Don't tell me you're-"

"Don't make this about yoursef. I am simply reminding you that you're neglecting your duty towards me." he pouts "I do not neglect you as my wifey. I bought you flowers today, right?" and you really started laughting. His cheeks slightly pink, but the gaze was still annoyed, hard and focused on your reactions. "Huh!? What? I am amazing husband, even if I am pretending." he is not...

"O my god, you're really want all the attention, huh?" you continued, and he let you go, his hand fell along his body.

"Keeping up appearances is crucial. What if someone important visits us? I'll have to explain that my dear wife is cheating on me and I'm letting her do it." his reaction was dramatic as usual "And since I'm letting her, at least she should date someone worthy of some level, hm?!" he crossed his hands, voice defiant as ever. It's not hard to guess that for Satoru, none of your dates had a standard. And no one will never have.

"Oh, of course. Let me remind you of your own words. My level is kinda weak, no?" you clapped your hands with irritated smile, looking at him with same tone.

"You need focus on aiming higher with the standard, you know? This guy was kinda mid." he replied.

"Ugh." you whine, not wanting to keep this conversation going.

"Just sayin', you should choose more prudently who you give your attention to. Have priorities." he stood his ground.

"Gods, why do you care?" you're getting kinda mad, tapping your heel on the floor "Since when are you such a perfect husband, to be concerned about who I'm dating?" you asked in his direction, gesturing.

Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. Your question threw him off guard, his head jammed with not being able to think of why he is interested in that aspect of your life at all, without saying it outright, of course. It didn't happen to him often. Practically not at all. However, you were the only one who could make him, Gojo Satoru, shut up for a moment.

You started laughing. You were beginning to understand what he was getting at with this conversation.

"You're always after attention, aren't you? This is the first time someone has shown you, that you're not so great to get it, huh?" your smile was full of surprise and victory. You saw through him, you knew it. The proof stood before you, him, unable to get the words out.

Your laughter made him pout even more. He still was silent, taken aback.

"I can't believe it, you have all the attention in the world and yet you want mine." you said with sarcastic smile. Satoru glance away, looking like an embarrassed, angry kitten.

You turned away, taking of your shoes and jacket.

"Please, give me a break." your tone still amused, but harsh.

Heading to your bedroom to get changed, you warned him "And never, do that stunt again." the door closed behind you.

He just stood there. His gaze fixed on the place where you had just been.

He couldn't make out a single sentence or think of anything.

Gojo.exe stopped working.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur

[astraariel]

eternal snow

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: your love for sanji was unconditional, unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same seeing as there were petals coming out of your mouth.

word count: 3.6K

warnings: spoilers (?) just the name of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: loosely based on “eternal snow” from fullmoon wo sagashite; angst; hanahaki disease; implied cheating; modern!au; hurt no comfort; lovesick; requited unrequited love

author's note: I think along with everyone opla is taking over my life so it encouraged me to finish this fic I started months ago lol. once again I like angst and this is soooo ooc of sanji he would never cheat I love him so much I’m sorry. on another note, I really like AmaLee’s cover of this song so you can give it a listen if you want to feel the vibe. 

also, ignore the fact that Pudding is sixteen, she’s older than that in this. I couldn’t really think of anyone else to have/didn't want to think of a different character. just know, she’s of age. other than that, ignore grammar mistakes and enjoy♡

──★ ˙ ̟read pt2 here!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten to this point. You were certain that you two would be together forever. How you had unknowingly lost the one you love so dearly, you would never know.

Sanji was a flirt and you loved it, he could simply say that you looked beautiful today and you’d melt. Hell, that’s how you too met, Nami had introduced you two and Sanji wooed his way into your heart. You knew that he had you in the palm of his hand, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.

Sanji was an attentive lover. When he loved, he showered you with his attention. You could always tell that his presence was there whenever you spoke. He’d care and cater to every request you asked of him, not allowing you to lift a single finger. It’s who he was.

You were blinded by your love for Sanji that you never noticed him slipping away from your grasp.

The two of you were currently sitting together on your living room couch. Sanji mentioned there was a new show he wanted to watch, so here the two of you were. Your attention was focused on the TV in front of you while his was on his phone.

You glance at him, “Who’s that?” 

He hadn’t looked away from it for more than 30 seconds throughout the last episode. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he looks at you. 

“Oh, it's the new dessert chef at the restaurant,” he shuts his phone off, “I've been assigned to help her around and show her the ropes,” he smiles, “It’s nothing, you want popcorn?” 

You turn to him, “Of course I do.” He gets up to walk to your kitchen, “Hey, I love you.”

He walks up behind you and bends down, kissing your head, “And I love you more.” He stands up and you hear him rummaging through the pantry for a popcorn packet. 

You cough slightly, “Could you grab me some water, Sanji?” He shouts back a response but you don’t make it out because you’re too busy pulling a petal out of your mouth.

♡‧₊˚

After that lone petal had made its introduction, it planted itself as a constant. Every so often for the following weeks, you’d feel something weird in your mouth, only to pull out a single flower petal.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about it. On top of the weird cough you were having, Sanji was also acting off. 

It was small at first, just tiny, little white lies that he’d tell you. 

Like when he’d say he was tired, that he was going to bed, but you could hear him on his phone laughing at something from the room. Or when he claimed that his phone had died and that’s why he hadn’t texted you back even though you were hanging with Nami at the time and he had replied to a video she had sent him a minute after you texted him. 

That was just the first few weeks.

You weren’t sure when the white lies became real lies but it had only spiraled more. You had found that he wasn’t even bothering with lying anymore, simply stating that he was too busy to come over or that he didn’t even want to hang out with you that day.

Sanji would claim to be too tired and not bother to see you for an entire week, but then he’d call you complaining that he missed you and question why the two of you hadn’t gone on a date recently and then insist that he was going to cook dinner for the two of you. Those times were always the best. It made you feel like nothing was wrong. 

It was pure whiplash. 

You were never sure which Sanji you were gonna get that day. Maybe it’d be the Sanji that you loved or this new person who had taken over and wouldn’t even text you back for days on end. 

Recently, he was your loving, doting boyfriend. Which caused you to completely forget about the flower petals you were currently collecting from your mouth when you were being distracted by Sanji’s full attention. 

You were lying on Sanji’s chest recounting your day to him when suddenly the sound of his phone pinging cut you off. 

A quiet chuckle made you peek up at Sanji, his eyes were looking at his phone intently, whatever was on his screen, clearly captivated him more than what was coming out of your mouth.

You sit up, his blatant disinterest in your day annoying you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice cuts through the room.

He looked up at your now sitting form, it looked like he was just acknowledging your presence.

He lets out a noise of confusion, “What?”

“Are you angry at me? Did I say or do something that pissed you off? Because, please, just tell me, I can't take it anymore.” you pleaded.

You notice Sanji’s body tensing, his brow scrunching in even more confusion. He laughs awkwardly, “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not angry.” he looks away, “I love you, you know that right?”

And suddenly, you weren’t angry anymore. 

You smiled, “I love you too.”

He glances at his phone again.

But you don’t care, because he loves you. 

Satisfied with his response, you settle back down but are interrupted when you begin to cough. Quickly, you stand up to fetch your handkerchief from your pocket, wiping your mouth swiftly. 

You look back at Sanji, “I’m gonna-” but before you can finish, you feel the familiar flowers clawing their way up your throat. You walk out of the room coughing. 

Sanji doesn’t look up from his phone.

♡‧₊˚

He was late.

Again. 

You were exhausted. The constant lies that you fooled yourself into believing for the sake of your heart were beginning to wear on you. 

The old hoodie you were wearing enveloped you in an attempt to provide yourself some level of comfort that no one could really give you anymore. 

It’s late, around midnight, last you checked. The spaghetti dinner left on the table you had cooked had long gone cold. The Baratie had closed hours ago and Sanji still wasn’t home. 

You sit in complete darkness, the TV is currently rattling off an old rerun of some show you didn’t watch. You’re too tired to get up and find the remote to change the channel so you settle on watching the old comedic sitcom. You’re holding your trusty handkerchief that’s become your best friend in the past months; ready to close around your mouth in an attempt to catch the petals of flowers that’d come up your throat every so often. 

Your eyes glaze over the screen when you hear the door creak open. Footsteps were heard as a soft clatter sounded throughout the room from Sanji setting his keys down on the counter. 

You sit up slowly, in an effort to prohibit any intense coughing. 

Your eyes meet Sanji’s surprised ones, “You’re still awake? It’s late, you should go to bed.” he looks away. 

“You missed dinner.” You look over at Sanji’s form, he’s stiff, you note.

“I stayed late to help close, sorry we can reschedule.” He brushes you off swiftly.

“Was she there?” The argument had already begun, why not fuel it some more?

Sanji whips his head at you, an incredulous look gracing his features. “Who are you talking about?” Acting dumb was never a good look on him. 

Your tired eyes stare at him, “I know you’re spending time with her.” The venom in your tone was palpable.

You were over the lies. You were over the constant tiptoeing between each other, you’re honestly surprised he still even decided to come over. It would have been better for him to stay at his place and just call you in the morning to tell his lie. 

He has balls, you’ll give him that.

“Do you even love me anymore?”  

The silence that surrounded the room was upsetting. Of course, he didn’t, who were you fooling? You had all the proof you needed in all of the trashcans around your house, discarded tissues soaked in blood, and petals filled the bins.

Sanji scoffs, “I don’t know what you want from me.” He doesn't answer the question, “Why are you asking if I love you, you're being needy.” He stares at you before continuing, “If you don’t trust me,” he looks away, “Then maybe we should break up.” With a tone of finality, he turns around and walks toward the door, the sound of it shutting echoing throughout the house.

You’re left alone in the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall muffling your coughs that were accompanied by flowers and blood. 

♡‧₊˚

With the new development of the blooms coming out of your throat, you felt defeated. You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve this. You didn’t wish this on anyone, it was a lonely and awful feeling, physically and emotionally. 

You’ve gotten used to your condition. It had been a month since you’d seen Sanji after he had broken things off and in that month, you would constantly find yourself leaning over the toilet bowl, hacking up blood and flower blooms. 

You finally had the courage to look up what you assumed was hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, but you were certain that was what was causing you pain. The only cure was to have surgery that resulted in the patient forgetting about whomever they had loved. That you’d act as if nothing had happened, that you’d live in ignorance bliss afterward. 

Sacrificing your heart for your life. 

After that month, you had decided to go to a coffee shop forcing yourself to get out of the house and do something. 

So you went to Sanji’s favorite coffee shop. 

Why you had put yourself through that? You weren't sure.

You remember wrapping your hand around the door handle, ready to walk in when a wisp of light auburn hair had caught your attention inside the cafe. 

There she was. Pudding. The girl who had replaced you. The one who had captivated Sanji’s attention in a way you could only dream of.

Sanji stood beside her, you were certain he couldn't see you from inside, his attention was fully on Pudding’s face, absorbing whatever story she had been telling him. 

He had never looked at you like that.

Did he ever love you? Were you that stupid to even see the truth? Had it been there all along and you were simply too blind to notice?

An “excuse me” had brought you back to reality and had you rushing back to your apartment in hopes of not bumping into Sanji or Pudding. You weren't sure your heart could take it if you were forced to talk to them.

After that defeat you noticed that you were no longer hacking up petals, but fully blossomed flowers, you couldn’t walk for a long distance without wheezing, the flowers constricting your airways preventing you from wanting to do anything. You knew you were nearing the final stage, soon roots were going to begin to show up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to a doctor. You had read that the longer you kept this from being treated, you’d enter the point of no return. 

So, you simply waited.

Your mind was reeling. You never wanted to stop loving Sanji. You didn’t care about the pain that it brought you. 

You don’t care that you still long to have Sanji tell you that he loves you. To tell you and for you not to immediately have to turn away and cough up blood and flowers. 

You missed him. You yearned for him.

After Nami had found out why you and Sanji broke up, she went on a rant about how she was going to kill him, on how he could have done this to you. You weren't sure if you had ever seen her get so angry before. 

But even after that, you confessed that you still loved him. 

She proceeded to call you insane, but she simply didn’t understand. She didn’t know about how his eyes would sparkle when he would go on about a new recipe that he developed and how he was certain that it was going to be the new hit at the Baratie. She didn’t know how bashful he got when you complimented him on his food. How he’d kiss you like how it was the first time you were kissing each other.

You loved him. And you would forever love him.

But he haunted your life. Leaving you lying at night, not even allowing you to find comfort in your dreams since he haunted those too. When you’d close your eyes you could only mourn for the love that once was. To mourn for him even though he was alive and well, but could you say the same for yourself?

You had long accepted that you were going to die. If anything, you willed it. Never did you want to forget your love for Sanji. The idea that you would never be able to recall how he made your heart pound every time he’d look at you, would be a nightmare.

But you were tired. 

In the months after the cafe incident you would go through phases where the pain would turn to anger, cursing Sanji, wishing you two had never met, wishing that Nami had never introduced you too. 

But the anger would never stay directed towards Sanji. It would always circle back to you. And anger would turn to pity and pity would turn to sadness. 

You wanted to cry and scream at the sky, to yell at the world, to question why love felt this way. Why couldn't he just love you back, why were you being punished for simply loving him unconditionally?

You suffocate yourself in the love that you have for Sanji. Sacrificing your every breath to simply feel the true and fierce love you felt for him. You’d cry until you were gasping for air, til you were choking up flowers that were clogging your lungs. You wished, begged, for it to go away. Wishing that you had never fallen for him. 

But even with all the pain he caused you. You could never hate him.

You could never hate Sanji.

You can’t even bring yourself to hate Pudding, it wasn't her fault that Sanji was infatuated with her rather than you.

And you could never truly hate him for that.

The sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant wafting through the air brought you back to reality. 

Recalling how hours before Nami had found you on the ground of your bathroom, post-hacking your brains out from the various blooms of flowers that rose from your throat at what seemed like at every hour of the day as of recently. You hadn’t heard her call for you when she entered your apartment so you weren’t able to hide anything from her. 

“Are you insane?” Her voice ricocheted in the bathroom after you had explained to her what had been happening to you for the last couple of months.

You were numb the entire car ride to the hospital as Nami yelled at you for being so careless. 

“Why are you letting that boy kill you?” 

Why were you? 

Why were you putting yourself through this pain, knowing he would never love you again?

The recent memory reminded you of Nami’s presence on the side chair that was placed beside the crunchy bed you were currently sitting on. Her brown eyes met yours and smiled softly at you. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” Nami’s attempt at reassurance was comforting to you for 5 seconds before the door swung open revealing the doctor. 

“Hello,” she said your name, “you’re the one with hanahaki disease, correct?” You glance over at Nami before replying to the doctor in confirmation. “Well, unfortunately, it has been developing for a while and if you had come just a little bit later it would have been untreatable, so I highly suggest proceeding with the procedure as soon as possible.”

Your hands grew clammy. This was it. You were going to be relieved from this grueling life you had found yourself in. You would finally be able to go back to normal. 

Normal. 

Would it truly be normal if you didn’t love Sanji anymore? Could you truly live with yourself knowing that you gave up the one thing that has been keeping you going? You guess you wouldn’t actually remember your love for him if you did the surgery but your heart would know. Your soul would know. 

You wished that all of this pain would go away. Longing to run back to Sanji, for him to stop the anguish that you felt. To have him whisper that he loved you and for you to not cough up flowers anymore. To know that he truly meant the words that he was saying.

You wondered how your life would have gone if you had never fallen for Sanji. Would your life still lead you to this very moment of hell that you’re living currently? You would think that hell would be hot, blazing with heat, but all you felt was the coldness of lies that you believed that spewed from Sanji’s lips when he spoke to you. 

You would like to think that you wished you had never fallen into this trap. That your heart never fell for him, but you knew better. You knew that he had your heart from the beginning. You were doomed from the first interaction.

Wasn’t it a true act of love if you could let the person go? Wouldn’t it be the final seal of approval of your love if you went through with the surgery? The love that you felt for Sanji would be proven by this simple act. 

You felt Nami’s hand grab yours. Her eyes were filled with remorse, a sadness that you could distinguish as the same sadness that you saw in your eyes ever since that first petal came to be.

Anticipatory grief.

She was grieving your love for him already, grieving for your heart, how you would never love again, how you would never love him again.

You sigh. 

♡‧₊˚

You wake up to the soft murmurs of the television in the corner of the room. 

Your mind was hazy, from what, you weren't entirely sure yet. It felt as if you had lost something like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t think of exactly what it was.

Guess it wasn’t important.

Your eyes wander over to your surroundings, the hospital room is bare except for the basic, usual furniture. Your eye caught movement out of the corner of your eye, turning your face to examine what it was.

A balloon with the words “Get well soon!” fills your vision, and your gaze scans over the hearts that surround the bubble letters in bright yellow hues. You reach over the side table to grab the card that sat under the balloon. 

Hope you feel better - Nami.

Sad that you had missed your friend, you made a mental note to pay her a visit after you were discharged from the hospital to thank her.

A soft knock echoed throughout the room, your attention to the door opening revealing the doctor. “Hi, glad you’re awake. The procedure was a success. You should be good to go soon, but take it easy for the next two weeks.”

The procedure.

You quickly scour your brain for answers of who it was you loved but came up short. 

Guess that was the point, wasn’t it? 

Before you could thank the doctor, rushed footsteps were heard outside the room, hasty knocks piercing the air along with the clamor of the door opening quickly. 

Sanji’s blond hair comes into view, and he stands, wide-eyed, near the doorframe. He was panting slightly, a sign that he possibly had been running before he got here. 

He says your name quietly, the doctor gives you a nod before excusing herself from the room to give you guys privacy. 

“Sanji,” you smile brightly at him, “Did you get off of work? Why are you here?”

His eyes shift over to the balloon on the stand beside the bed. “Nami told me about the…procedure.”

“Really?” you roll your eyes teasingly, “It’s not that big of a deal honestly, that Nami. Always the worrier, thank you for visiting me though, you’re a good friend, Sanji.” You look away before you can notice Sanji’s face falling. 

You look back at him, “Oh, could you take me home? I probably shouldn’t be driving right now.” you laugh quietly and scan Sanji’s face. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, perhaps he was really busy at the restaurant. “If you can, if not I’ll just call Nami.” 

“No,” he clears his throat, “Yeah I can take you home.” 

You offer him a smile, “Thanks, hey I think I may have to fill out some paperwork. Could you grab it while I go change?” You begin to stand up slowly before he rushes over to help you up.

You look up at him to thank him again when you realize his eyes are watering. 

Weird. 

Your eyebrows knit in worry, “Hey, are you okay?”

He blinks rapidly while looking away from you. His hand lets go from his grasp on your arm and runs it through his blonde hair while turning away from you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he coughs, “Uh, I’m gonna go look for those papers.”

He walks out of the room before you can respond, leaving you slightly confused but you shake it off before you begin to look for your clothes. 

You don’t see Sanji standing outside the doorway, coughing up a flower petal. 

[razzle-n-dazzle]

hello, friend!! i saw your adam hcs and i loveddd themmm!! i was hoping to request smth if that’s okay? could we get lucifer with a reader who also struggles with depression like he does (it’s mentioned in episode five if you didn’t know!!) and maybe reader had a practically rough week and gets home from work and just breaks down in tears, and luci find a way to cheer them up? either fem! or gn! reader if that’s chill, tysm for taking your time to consider this even if you don’t get to it!!

— 🪽anon

ᯓ★ "Give Your Corpse Some Smile Lines." Lucifer / Reader | Oneshot TW! Read at your own risk and comfortability! | talks about depression, suicidal topics/actions, overdosing topics/actions, reader breaking down, hurt to comfort, self destruction, abuse

ᯓ There are days and weeks, sometimes months and years, that prolonged like time, made it appear like it no longer moved and served a purpose. Like time was nothing but a feign idea that was made to torture everyone and anyone who dared think about it, who dared to calculate how it traveled and how long it took to pass a minute. And some days it made people want to break, and some day it made people want to kill other people, and some days it made people overjoyed, and some days it made people excited, and some days it made people nervous, and some days. . . It made you want to die.

ᯓ To be killed in the most brutal fashion known to man, to explode in a death either as silent as taking your own life in your own home or as bright and fantastic as the explosion of fire works. Time for you was never a friend and it continued to taunt you after you had died, overdosing on the pain medication you were prescribed after a horrible accident. Horrific! You had heard people call you, friends and family, after they saw the state of your decaying body after being rammed by a truck who lost control. Monstrous! None of them chose to stay around, none chose to help you when you were at your weakest and worst, when you could barely help yourself. And all you had done back then was help them! Was care for them! Be there for them at any time of the day whenever they needed, whenever they wanted, whenever they asked or called or texted or shouted or pleaded or-

ᯓ And it was a coward move, you were sure. Weak, many would call it, blasphemous and you were sure it was why you never got into Heaven despite having done everything in your power to be okay, to be the perfect person everyone wanted, to be good. But one night, when everything was moving too slow and no one seemed to blink twice at your presence, you would take your own life in silence. To overdose on your own pills, both praying it wouldn't work but gain the attention of someone yet also praying it would kill you and finally let you live in peace. In a world of black nights where you didn't have to open your eyes no longer, where time wouldn't be creeping over your shoulder, where nothing would hurt anymore because dammit. . . everything hurt.

ᯓ IT ALL FUCKING HURT.

ᯓ And then you ended in hell, and then you realized this would be your life . . . and then you realized you were still stuck with your worst enemy of all: Time. Forever stuck in an eternity after life, forever stuck here by yourself, forever being another face in the crowd or another person on the street for people to pass by and not think about twice. Someone. Just someone! Not even someone, no one. Just a shell, just a person decaying on the streets, decaying for all to see. A pitiful show.

ᯓ You could hardly remember when you met Lucifer; Maybe you were down on your luck one day and was eating cold Ramen out of the streets and he took pity to sit by you, to talk to you. Maybe it was when you were at a bar, downing another drink to forget the fact that you were chained down here, chained to your enemy, chained to your eternity of a never ending moment of the hands of time. Maybe you were working your minimum wage job to barely survive, or maybe you bumped into him. You memory hadn't always been good, party due to your own mental health and a constant flight or fight response, yet you had always knew life to be so bleak before you had met him. And then one day, everything was slightly a bit more okay. And slowly everything was a little more barrable; Even just slightly.

ᯓ And maybe a life can be handled in eternity, and you didn't have to be alone anymore . . .

ᯓ Yet, no matter how much anyone wished, love cannot fix all problems. Love can teach you how to heal, love can teach you how to live, love can teach you how to handle everything inside of you in a better manner than self destruction. But love cannot instantly fix everything wrong with you; You should have realized that sooner.

ᯓ You lived a life nothing short of a fairy tale for the last few months, living life alongside a partner who you could share the weight of the world with. Who felt comfortable enough to share the weight of the world with you. Where in the days you both laughed and played, pushing and pulling each other, peppering kissing on skin and longing ones on the lips. And at night you cuddled against each other, both with the fear of losing, both with longing, both just enjoying the company you now had, that you could now share. You've already shared tears, concerns, worries, troubles. You've both been vulnerable under the other's eyes, staining shirts under the other's careful and cradling hug, broken down and rushed out apologies. You've already both taken care of each other, took your time and held patience with each other and you both tried to heal the broken pieces of one another. Most would call it a disaster, a tragedy, yet for you both . . . it was like some sort of twisted hope, knowing you were no longer alone in your self deprecation. Knowing that even if either of you tried to self destruct everything around you, tried to gain that control that's slipping away, tried to push the other away, they would understand and be there. That in the end of the day you had someone to crawl to.

ᯓ Yet even with constant oxygen and wood, a fire can still grow dim in it's own silence and try to snuff itself out.

ᯓ This week had been long, it had dragged you by the heels and you could no longer put the energy to fight against it's slowing seconds. Working a minimum wage job, even after Lucifer had told you that you never had to again (yet you continued to do so for some sort of feeling of schedule and stability), that you hated and wished you could quite for a paycheck that wasn't even that high to withstand the abuse you had to. Lucifer constantly worried about you, about how the job affected you both physically and mentally. You often came home either drained or hurt, as costumers tended to get rather violent down in Hell. It was common to be stabbed during a shift and having to endure it until your shift was over. Effectively causing you to bleed out while still having to rep a costumer service smile. And the stabbing might not even be the worst part of everything; As you had to try many times to bite back any sort of emotion, ire and frustration and sorrow, as costumers yelled, screamed, tossed shit your way for a mistake you didn't even make. And yet it was your fault. It was always your fault and you couldn't do anything but stand there and take it, as your job would be on the line if you did anything other than stand there and take the anger and take the frustrations and the yelling and the stabbing; Being everyone's personal punching bag without any sort of composition.

ᯓ What was the point of it?

ᯓ The thought had came to you one day after you came home, slugging your shoes off your feet and tossing your keys onto the counter. Lucifer wasn't home, he usually was, yet you guessed he had something better to do than hear your sorrows of the day. You would want to do anything than hear about your sorrows as well, you couldn't blame him for trying to avoid you. So you dragged yourself to the bathroom, heavily sitting down upon the close lid of the toilet before sinking down some. A hand rested upon your stomach, the knife that pierced through your side slid in between your fingers like it didn't draw your blood out. Like it wasn't causing you pain; not even the worst pain in your life, just pain that poked and pricked and brought tears to the eyes, but you were no stranger to tears or to blood. You were no stranger to the bruises that covered your body from angry costumers, from the blisters that grew from harsher treatment, from the blood that seeped and stained. And maybe you should take care of that wound, but it was best to keep a knife into the wound than take it out; It stopped bleeding and you hadn't stained that much, you didn't think, and you were oh so tired so maybe. . .just a nap would help. It didn't have to be a long one, yet something in the back of your mind hoped it would be, and you leaned your head back against the back of the toilet. The light above gave out a buzz, showing it was working, sounding that it was on and here.

ᯓ Yet a nap sounded nice.

ᯓ "Honey! I'm home!" Lucifer shout, a cheerful laugh followed and a careful grin was stretched on his face as he tried to balance the bags of groceries that were in his arms; Trying to make his one round of bringing groceries in to work. He didn't want to drop a single one of them, "I'm sorry I took so long, yet I went to the store and wow! There were a lot of options for things that I was sure I would never make it out of there! Did you know that there's like. . ." Lucifer would pause to count his fingers, having successfully delivered the bags onto the counter without breaking anything, ". . .15 different brands of milk?! And they had like this Milk called Almond milk, where they apparently milk the almond and I don't know how they do that but-" Lucifer's voice fell flat as soon as he noticed you weren't around, at least, not around as usual. By now you would have sprung from the couch, or yelled at him from the bathroom that you were doing your business, or came from the bedroom to wrap him in a hug. Yet your presence was absent and it didn't allude Lucifer, at least, not many more. "H . . . honey?" He would call out again, this time with a more shaken voice and frowned eyebrows; His smile no longer held the confidence of a man who managed to do one round of bringing groceries in with 13 bags.

ᯓ And yet you didn't respond to his call, how could you when your own breath was so shallow your heart was speeding up, stressing, just to pump blood through your body; And Lucifer grew worried. It would triple upon seeing the mess you had left, a mess that hadn't caught his eye until now. . . Your shoes left lazily by the door, your keys stained with blood. Blood that streaked like a hand across the counter top and traveled inward, towards the bathroom and it's door that lingered tauntingly open. And instantly, Lucifer felt his mouth run dry and his feet speed towards the bathroom with nothing but horrible thoughts piling up in his head. You were hurt and you weren't answering his calls. You were hurt and you weren't doing anything to signal to him that you were okay. Are you okay? Are you dead? Oh god he hoped he didn't get to that bathroom door and see your dead body there, all stained and pale. Please don't be dead, please please please. . . "OH MY GOD!-" Lucifer hated to admit the way his body froze in horror by the doorway, one hand clinging onto the frame and the other shot up to cover his mouth. He hated the way his feet stuck to the ground like they were rooted, forcing him to look at your bleeding and barely breathing figure on the floor.

ᯓ And no, he didn't miss the way your blood was smeared on the toilet. He could never miss such a detail when your blood was the last thing he ever wanted to see seep out of your body and pool and stain everything around you.

ᯓ "Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" The words fell out of his lips, fell onto deaf ears, as he ripped his rooted feet off the ground and rushed over to you, to your body. He felt dazed, confused, unsure of himself all of a sudden. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? "Hey, don't be dead come on!-" He didn't realize he was rambling to himself as he kneeled down next to you, not minding the way your blood seeped and stained his white clothes. He shuffled around, looking for your wound, looking for something he could fix to help you! He was so panicked, and had to stich up your wounds so often, that the thought of calling a doctor didn't cross his mind. Lucifer was hesitant to touch you, but didn't want to hurt you, "Wound, wound wound! Where the fuck is your wound?!" He asked before spotting the knife that was jagging out your side. It was mostly covered by your body, as he had happened to kneel down on the opposite side of where your wound pierced in. "Oh fucking duh, it's where the knife is. Nice job Lucifer can't spot a fucking knife when your lover is bleeding out on the floor!- Shit wait I need to actually take care of that. Fuck! Where the hell is the first aid kit?!"

ᯓ To say Lucifer was freaking out during the whole process of taking out the knife, tossing it to the side to be picked up later, disinfecting your wound, trying to stitch it up with shaking hands, and wrapping you up. . . would be an understatement. He was terrified to hold you, afraid he might make the wound worse or he might put you in more pain, yet somehow managed to move you from the bathroom floor to the couch in the living room. He would have put you to bed, at least provided your body a little more comfort, yet he was afraid to leave your side. Afraid that if he took his eyes off of you that something might happen, that you might roll onto the wound and break the sticking, that you might just stop breathing as a whole and leave him alone.

ᯓ He tried calling Charlie to help, yet physicked himself out right before he was going to press the call button. He needed some sort of help, he couldn't go through this alone, yet he didn't want to put his daughter through this either. All he could really do was find himself sitting in front of the couch, head resting upon the cushion, watching your chest rise and fall with heavy eyes; Just to reassure himself you were still here, that you were still alive and you could wake up. Maybe tomorrow? Hopefully. Maybe he should bring you to a hospital. Either way he was here, waiting, hoping.

ᯓ Fuck . . . He didn't know what he would do if you didn't wake up. But you did! By some grace of god you had happened to wake up in the middle of the night, the day after Lucifer had found you. He hadn't been awake, and you were barely moving due to the pain that jabbed at your side. Though you noticed the weight that indented the couch by the edge, slightly turning your head to see Lucifer's crossed arms and nuzzled head into it; He was sleeping, leaning against the couch while sitting on the floor. Drowsy, tired, you glanced over at the couch, wondering why he was sitting down there instead of up here with you. When did you even get to the couch? And then you noticed how you were wearing some of his clothes, with the shirt pulled up to expose your wrapped chest, the bandages still a stained a little crimson red. And you frowned, eyes heavy, looking down at the wound and realizing, at least to some sort of extent, why he wasn't up here. You had scared him . . . A heavy sigh left your lips as you reached a hand out, shaking, as you leaned down into the cushions. Gently, you placed your hand on top of Lucifer's, trying to intertwin your fingers without waking him. If anything, by the way he looked, you were sure he just managed to fall asleep . . . and most likely passed out from exhaustion rather than willingly succumbing to slumber.

ᯓ Though feeling the sudden warmth on his hands, and being half-awake and half-asleep in general, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open despite being rather heavy. He felt heavy, he felt tired . . . yet his hand felt warm, causing his eyes to glance down and notice your hand on top of his. Your hand, your thumb rubbing against his. "Love?. . ." He would mumble out, hoping this wasn't a dream, as he gently raised his head. You noticed the way his eyes sagged a little, his eyelids clearly heavy with eyebags starting to form under his eyes. The frown that had been on his face, tugged down out of pain, began, sluggishly, to tug into a warm smile. "You're awake. . . how are you feeling, do you need anything?" The way his voice croaked, clearly tired and clearly worn from tired and sobbing. His disheveled look, the way his hair was more frazzled than normal and the way his clothes were stained. It all made you upset; Not at him, no, you could never be upset at Lucifer. You were upset at yourself. For causing him so much pain, for making him probably so worried and panicked with the crawling thoughts of your death if he dared to ever take his eyes off of you.

ᯓ Lucifer, waiting for your answer, would gently bring your hand up to his cheek. He had missed your warmth, you had been so cold when he touched you last to move you from the tile of the bathroom floor to the plush cushions of the couch. He was glad that the warmth had returned to body, that he was able to watch your eyes sparkle in the dim lights that flooded in from the kitchen stove hood.

ᯓ His eyes were so gentle, his smile was so genuine, and all you managed to weakly croak out was a, "I'm sorry." And you felt bad feeling the warm tears starting to clump up in your eyes again and spill over. And you felt horrible as Lucifer shot awake, seeing your tears through the light of the kitchen, and rushed to bring his free hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I'm so sorry Lucifer I. . ." You would choked out, unsure what else to say. How else could you apologize to Lucifer when you knew that you had laid there, on the toilet, with the intention to hopefully die. And you didn't know how to tell Lucifer that to his face, especially when you've never had to tell anyone who's gotten as close to you as Lucifer has that you've thought about killing yourself. That you tried to plan it out in your shared home. Where you knew they would find you. Where you knew. . . "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're-" Lucifer paused for a second, glancing down at the side of your stomach. He had to reassure himself that you were alright before trying to comfort you, "-okay. You're okay now!" Lucifer grinned towards you, a little nervous at first before it fused out into more worry. "You're awake and you're not dying and it's okay! We can. . . talk about it all later okay? Just focus on getting better."

ᯓ You both would sit there in a comfortable, slightly-comfortable, silence as Lucifer stared up at you, and you stared back down at him. His hand, after having cleared your tears, hand reached up to play with your hair, trying to coax you back to sleep. Even when you knew he needed sleep himself, with the way his heavy eyes closed for long periods of time before opening again to meet mine. "Come here. . ." You would mumble, trying to reach for Lucifer, wanting to feel his warmth against yours. He was hesitant to do so, you could tell by the way his eyebrows scrunched upward and the frown that tugged on his lips. It took a while to coax him onto the couch, where even then he gingerly laid on his side and wrapped his arms cautiously a safe place above your bandages and nuzzled his head between the crook of your neck. You were able to play with his hair this time, give him a soft peck on the forehead. A silent apology for all the pain he had to endure because of you without you there to help, without the support he had shown you countless of times without fail.

ᯓ "I. . ." Lucifer's voice warily mumbled out, ". . .thought I was going to lose you." And the way his voice cracked broke your heart into a million pieces. And the only pathetic response you could muster back to him was a soft, shaken, "I'm sorry." As tears silently began to fall down your cheeks, and you could feel the silent tears that fell from Lucifer's eyes stain your neck. "I'm. . . so, so sorry. . ." "It's okay. . ." Lucifer would hug you a little tighter, "We'll work through it together, you're not going to lose me that easily, even if-" He would pause, choking out a bit of laughter between his tears, "-you try yourself."

ᯓ Oh. . . he knew. . .

Home | Masterlist tag list | @lily-ann-b

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[dreamauri]

hii!! i love your writing and i have an idea. toto wolff’s daughter used to date max but they broke up (bc yk mercedes and redbull rivalry) and she starts dating a footballer (it can be anyone that you want but i was thinking mason mount), but out of nowhere they break up and he shares in a podcast idk that shes still in love with her ex, max. id love to see how this would end 🫶🏻

┊𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! wolff! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 104 )  ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ This was from like august, im so sorry its so late. ik the annon said anson mount, but i dont really know his personality that well, so you can just imagine any person you want ig ━━━━━

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

2021

Everything was so blurry. You could see the illumination coming from your phone, little blurry grey and blue texts. You couldn't feel your body, ragged, unsteady breaths falling to and from your lungs.

"Block him. And delete his number. I don't want you to go out with him or be seen with him ever again." Your father's strong voice was the only sound in the room. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he wouldn't even look at you, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the bed of your hotel room.

Too many things were happening at once. This wasn't fair. This was wrong. "Aber papa." [but dad] "My words are final, Y/N." He spoke with such authority and strictness, you hated it when he was like that with you. Looking back down at you phone, you saw the 'seen' under the last bubble of text you sent.

Panic shot through you like a sharp arrow, hurt climbing through you. Scrambling quickly, you block the number and delete the contact. You couldn't bare to see the reaction or the reply. And you stood like that for a few minutes, the world falling apart as Toto talked. But you weren't listening. And you didn't want to listen. You didn't want to hear his voice.

And before you were to even realize it, you'd smashed the phone against the wall.

You tore the Mercedes shirt off your body, replaced it with a random sweater, stomping around the room, collecting your things. "What are you doing?" Toto stood up, watching you stuff you belongings in your bag. He held your wrist to stop you but you only yanked your arm back, shouting something at him, anything at him.

Toto was defiantly taken aback. He's never seen his little girl like this. Eyes red with tears, yet so angry. He never even thought he'd hear such hurtful words from you either. No father ever wants to hear 'i hate you' from their daughter, and it hurt right in his chest. You shoved the Mercedes shirt in chest, zipping up your bag and headed straight for the door.

"My love—" "Ich bin keine tochter von dir." [I'm no daughter of yours] Was the last thing he heard from you before the door was slammed shut.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2023

The Las Vegas GP had truly ruined the city. Max couldn't even have a nice drive from his hotel to the circuit in peace. The traffic was heavy and the honking was loud. At this point if max could, he'd just dump the car in any corner and walk the few kilometres himself. But he couldn't. And this added another reason as to why he hated this Grand Prix so much.

Try something else, he told himself. Disconnect. Max turned on the radio flipping through the channels every two seconds when his ear caught something. His stomach was flipped upside down and he was pretty sure he felt like his lungs would explode.

"You broke up with Y/N L/N recently." "Yeah, I have." "But she was such a nice girl." "She is. She really is. She wasn't clingy or needy. Like the perfect amount." "And beautiful as well." "Very beautiful, if you get what i mean." The men on the podcast laughed. Max felt him self frown. How dare they talk about you like this was some sort of goldy locks story.

"Yeah, She's perfect and all. But she's really hung up on her ex. You didn't even have to ask her, you could just look at her and tell that she wanted something else. I'm not going to say names, but the guy really fucked her up."

fucked her up? Max felt his heart skip a beat, or even more likely, it stopped beating at all. He turned the radio off quickly, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles bled white. Of course he had fucked you up, no wonder things went the way they did. They shouldn't have went that way. He should've never gotten his rival team's boss' daughter to fall for him.

No! What was Max thinking? The months he spent with you were the best things that have ever happened to him. It wasn't his fault. How would he know the Mercedes and Red Bull relationship would grow so bitter. How would he knew you'd be caught in the cross fire. He spends one winter break with you and then it all rips to shreds.

Was that why you changed your Last name? So he wouldn't find you? Must've been since it did work in your favour.

Y/N L/N.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Y/N L/N, Max thought as he typed the name into google. Your face was the first thing to pop up and Max had to hold down a gulp.

You definitely grew up. The playful and bubbly aura to the girl had almost completely dissipated, leaving a quiet and mature woman who looked very serious and uninterested, with a defiantly much more womanly body, enough to get you on the cover of vogue.

"You okay, mate?" Max looked up seeing Checo. They were gonna do the opening ceremony at any moment and the world champion did not look like he was in his head. Max quickly swiped off the tab and shrugged. "Nothing, just some drama." The blond waved it off, tucking the phone in his pocket.

The teams were being announced, starting with HAAS all the way up in the constructor ranking. "I never took you for a person to be interested in drama and stuff." Well, Checo was correct: Max wasn't into that kind of thing. He just happened to stalk his ex by accident since he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You lied to me." You huffed, stuffing your hands in your pockets, refusing to take a step further. "I didn't lie to you, technically. I just didn't tell you." Your friend shrugged, hooking her arm with yours and forcefully pulling you along while you tried to resist. "I don't want to be here, you tricked me." "I did."

It was certainly a sight. Lady gaga dragging Y/N L/N at the paddock of the Las Vegas GP. "The cars dont bite, N/N." "Yeah! That's because I'll be the one biting you!" The woman quickly let go of you at the threat. You went to walk out only to find people looking at you with exited and confused eyes. The exit was now too far.

With a dissatisfied sigh, you held out your hand and Lady Gaga took it, continuing to pull you along. "Today's just the race. So we'll watch. We'll wave the flag and then we'll leave." "I'm not waving the flag." "I'll do it."

You folded your arms, watching from the bottom of the grid on the side as the drivers arrived on the grid. The cars were lined up with car #16 and #1 on the top row, thankfully far away from you. Thankfully, the Mercedes were also far enough as well. You definitely wouldn't stand out in some non-flashy hoodie and shorts. You would've dressed better if you knew you were going to end up being forced into this.

People didn't really notice you at all, more concentrated on the drivers and celebrities. But they soon did notice you, a celebrity being pointed at by a driver. 'No way' Danny ric mouthed, face bright with surprise, a wide smile and arched eyebrows. He waved you over, and waved even harder when you shook your head in decline. You didn't want to appear rude. So you stood to his side, side hugging him as he rambled on about how much you missed. And you listened. You couldn't hate danny. he was like a big brother since f1 was practically your life.

"You should've told me you were coming, ya know." "I didn't even know I was coming." You chuckled, looking around.

FUCK! you looked away quickly, cutting the eye contact with Max short. Bad idea. Very bad idea. You thought, heart hammering in your chest.

"He still loves you." "Huh?" You looked up at Daniel confused. "Max." "no no." you shook your head. "He does." "he doesn't." "He was searching you up." You paused. "I saw it, your name on google." "That's called stalking—" "But he still thinks of you." "good point . . ." "You should think about it, considering how things ended. I think you should at least be on the same page." ". . . thank you danny."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh shit." You looked at gaga confused. "Hold this for a second, something's in my eye." She handed you the chequered flag, more like shoved it into your chest while she went to fix her eyelash.

"A little faster." Your hurried, hearing the cars come around turn 17. But gaga took a step back continuing to try and fix her issue. With a huff, you stepped forward, leaning your body on the railing, waving the flag just in time for Max who crossed first.

When all the cars finished the last lap you finally took a step back, flexing your wrist tiredly from doing all these Xs. You turned to see Gaga smiling at you, her eyelashes long forgotten because there wasn't an issue all along.

"You suck." You grumbled, and she laughed taking the flag from you. And just like that, finally you were able to get out of there. The crowds were too busy watching the podium ceremony to see you exit and leave through the parking lot.

You plopped in your car, turning on the engine. You couldn't bring yourself to drive out though. The excuse would be that the engine was still not warm enough. But really, you didn't want to leave behind those blue eyes again. they deserve an explanation for what they read that night two and a half years ago. But it's not like max would know you're waiting for him, or find you if that's the case. How would he know you're waiting for him in your car?

Well however he knew, he knew. The passenger door was opened and the Dutch man sat in the seat next you. You didn't even realize he had been looking for you throughout the whole parking lot, hoping to see you again. You've been looking down at your hands for goodness knows how long. You only looked up one you heard him cup his hands together and blow into them.

You cleared your throat, turning the seat warmer on for him. He must've gotten used to the warm Monaco weather for a cold city like this. The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes. You didn't dare to look back at him, because you knew he was looking at you. And if you looked at him, who knows what would happen next because for sure you're still fucking dying to kiss him.

"Max, I'm sorry." / "Y/N, I'm sorry."

The two of you froze, looking at each other. "You go first." Max nodded.

You took in a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "I didn't mean to end things that way." and i didn't want it to end, you wanted to add but opted to leave that out. "Torger barged in my room and told me to end it right then and there. I didn't really have a say in anything." You sighed deeply, scratching the back of your neck. A moment of silence dawned in the car until Max spoke again.

"That explains the spelling mistakes." he chuckled lightly, opening his phone and scrolling through until he found your message chat. You could see the 'ts pver' and 'domt tezt or tqlj to me wver afqin' messages at the bottom. an un received message holding the words 'wait what?' 'baby whats going on' you never saw these messages, you'd blocked him by then.

"We should've talked." You admitted. "In person- discussed things. This wasn't fair to you . . . I really am sorry. I should've never let someone take control of me like that. I ended up hurting you."

". . . I always thought you hated me." You sprung up eyes wide as you turned to him. "No no. Never." You shook your head. You weren't even over him. "I don't hate you, I never did, Max. You're too amazing and important to me for that." You didn't even realize the words coming out of your mouth.

The words that led the blond to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. A kiss he'd been waiting almost 3 years for.

[luvsturniolo]

hey girl i love ur stuff, do u think u could do a Matt imagine where the triplets are filming a baking video or smthn with the reader. There's a lot of speculation of whether Matt and reader are dating (idm if they're together yet or not) and reader minorly burns their hand or smthn and Matt makes a b-line to reader to comfort them? thanks ily<3

— ★ !! speculation

pairing : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : desc is explained in the req !!

a/n : girl i'm SO sorry that this took forever. my inbox is literally so confusing & it stresses me out so bad to look at ; i need to organize it asap ! anyway im sorry this took so long, ur req got burried under a ton of others

anyway , i hope u like this bc u deserve it after waiting so long 😭 also, i'm trying a slighty different format for my posts (its so subtle idek if u guys will notice but i love it so wtv 🤞🤞)

wc : 1.8k

for the past few months, you and matt have been acting a bit differently on camera. normally, the two of you make an effort to stay decently apart so none of the his fans will notice that you're dating.

you've been friends with the triplets since middle school and you show up in their videos all the time. but last summer, matt finally asked you to be his girlfriend. you guys agreed to keep your relationship off the internet and since then, you two have been trying your absolute best to avoid eachother while on camera.

but it's harder than it sounds to keep a distance from the one you love. all you want to do it hold his hand, rest your head on his shoudler, or hug him. but you can't. and it drives you fucking crazy.

this morning, nick texted you and asked if you wanted to come over to film a baking video with them. seeing as you had nothing better to do, you happily agreed.

nick explained that you would be the one blindfolded. he and his brothers would be normal — able to speak, see, and hear freely. you were a bit nervous at first, knowing how horrible you are at baking. but you still agreed to film the video because you know their fans have been begging for you to participate in one of their cooking videos for years.

you're currently in the kitchen with matt as he sets out all the ingredients that will be used. across the room, nick is setting up the camera so you guys can film in a few minutes. chris is in his bedroom, searching for the bandana he set out for you.

"got it!" chris shouts excitedly as he rushes into the kitchen, waving the hot pink bandana around in the air.

you laugh at the sight of its bright colors before asking, "why the hell did you casually had that laying around your room?"

"don't worry about it." he responds, trying to be mysterious and dramatic.

he hands the bandana to you and you place it over your eyes. you wrap it around your head and end up fumbling with the ends of it, unable to tie it blindly. you sigh with annoyance but continue to struggle, too determined to ask for help.

suddenly you feel someone place their hands on top of yours. you immediately recognize them to be matt's. his fingertips are cold but his palms are warm, causing chills to wash over your skin like an ocean wave.

"you don't need to be so independent all the time," he tells you softly. "it's okay to ask for help every once in a while."

you feel his hands leave yours — meaning the bandana is tied. you turn around and blindly reach your hands up to find his face. you feel your hands graze his jaw and you smile, feeling the stubble of his beard brush against your skin.

you tip your head up and reach to kiss him. however, seeing as you can't see, you end up missing his mouth and kissing the corner of his lips. you feel his mouth pull upward with a smile before he moves his head to the side so you can kiss him correctly.

"i need to make this worth it." he says against your mouth. he pulls away to speak, but you lean forward to chase his lips. "i won't be able to kiss you until after the video is finished."

"then quit wasting your time talking and kiss me." you say. you feel his chest shake with an airy chuckle before he places his hands on your hips and pulls you closer against him, reconnecting your mouths to kiss you again.

"guys, what the fuck?" you hear nick's voice call out from across the kitchen. "you've been making out for the past three minutes."

"yeah," chris's voice agrees. it sounds like he's standing in the doorway. "we were trying to be nice and let you have your moment, but you just won't stop kissing."

matt lets go of your hips with a sigh. "whatever, let's get this over with."

"woah, kid!" chris exclaims dramatically. you can hear his voice move and his footsteps get louder as he makes his way over to where you and matt are standing in front of the counter. "don't sound too excited."

as unbelievable as this sounds, matt doesn't actually hate filming. he actually loves making videos for his channel. if he didn't, he would not be doing it as a job. what he hates is being away from you.

he's the literal definition of clingy. and you're like the exhausted mom who has to put up with his tantrums whenever you're torn apart.

"okay, the camera is set up." nick announces. "i'm gonna start recording, so get your coupley-ness over with so we can film."

it's kind of crazy how casual it's become for everyone to work around yours and matt's secret relationship. his brothers respect your guys' decision to stay private and they help you guys hide it from the media. it genuinely means a lot to you to know how supportive chrtis and nick are — even though they like to make jokes and tease matt for his clinginess.

"hey guys!" nick says to the camera. “today, y/n is going to be blind baking some santa-shaped cookies since it’s almost christmas!”

you can hear nick walk over to where everyone else is standing. he continues to talk to the camera when you feel matt’s knuckles brush against the small of your back — where the camera can’t see.

you smile, enjoying the physical touch. but you know how risky it is for him to do things like that. if you start blushing or acting weird on camera, the fans will easily put the pieces together and realize what it means. so you shift a little, causing matt’s hand to fall off your back and back to his side.

"okay," you hear nick's voice say. you jump at how close he is now.

"oh my fuck, nick!" you shout, turning to glare at him — hoping you're looking in the right direction. "you scared the absolute shit out of me!"

"i'm not nick." chris says.

you turn in the opposite direction and tilt your head dramatically, waiting for nick to apologize for scaring you. but instead of an apology, you hear matt say "i'm not nick either. sorry."

you huff out a scoff and turn to the last remaining direction where nick could be. this time you were finally glaring at the correct triplet.

you hear matt laugh from beside you and your stomach twists into a knot.

since you can't see, the rest of your senses have been heightened — meaning you're hyperaware of the sound of your boyfriend's laugh. everything in you is tempted to kiss and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

but. you. cant.

"as i was saying," nick continues, "matt set out all the ingredients before we started recording. so, everything is on the counter in front of you, y/n."

you nod in response, happily beginning your task. the first portion of the video is calm and kind of relaxing. you listen to the triplets' commands as you grab and pour random things into random bowls. honestly, you've lost track of what step you're on. it feels like you're just going through the movements of baking cookies rather than actually cooking a meal.

chris and nick have no problem with holding your hands or wrists to point you in the right direction. but matt? he hasn't touched you at all. he still talks to you and helps out when it's needed, but you both know better than to touch.

due to matt's intense clinginess, it's safest to stay apart. if not, nick will end up cutting out a large portion of the video where matt has to be pried off of you (it's happened before).

"now, you need to put the cookie tray in the oven." nick tells you. from the sound of his voice, you can tell that he's reading instructions off the back of the cookie box. you hear him set the box on the counter before he continues. "while you do that, i'll put the dirty dishes in the sink; chris will clean the counters so you can decorate the cookies when they're done; and matt can make sure you don't catch the house on fire."

"alright." you agree with the plan. you reach forward to grab the tray of cookies. you pat thepalm of your hands on the countertop, trying to find the metal board. but you can't find it. "what the fuck?" you mutter, knowing it was just right here.

"right here," matt's voice murmers against the shell of your ear. he reaches over you, his chest pressed against your back. you hear the cookies slide agianst the counter before you feel the cool material of the tray touch your hands.

you clear your throat awkwardly, trying not to think about him too much. "thanks."

"mhm," he hums. as he stands up straight, the warmth of his chest leaves your back and you're left feeling cold and empty without his presence.

you mimick his actions by standing up straight. you then carry the tray in your hands as you walk around the island to where you know the stove is. you're about to set the tray down to open the oven, but you hear someone come up behind you. matt tells you to just hold still and he'll open it for you.

you do as he says and wait for him to open the oven door. when you hear it unlatch, you reach down to slide the tray onto the rack.

apparently, you miscalculated the distance between you and the oven. because just as you were going to set the tray down, you felt a sharp pain in the knuckles of your pinky finger.

"fuck!" you shout in pained breath before dropping the tray to the ground.

"what happened? are you okay? are you hurt?" matt rushes out a string of questions, immediately taking your hand into his. he twists and turns it, examining the injury.

"yeah, i'm fine." you tell him. "i shouldn't have dropped the tray like that, it was kinda dramatic."

you hear him sigh, "what did i tell you? it's okay to ask for help."

"i didn't think i needed it." you tell him, dropping your voice to a whisper as you tell him your next concern. "plus, you might wanna get away from me. we're still filming."

"fuck the video, y/n." he says, pulling you into a hug. he holds you against him, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "you mean way more to me than a bit of speculation."

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @slaysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part six)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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The thick, heavy feeling of humiliation floods Rafe’s body when he hears rapid knocks at his door. Someone must have heard his father’s shouting.

He avoids eye contact with Ward as he stalks past him to open the door. And of course, you of all people, are standing there.

Your eyes are deep with something he hasn’t seen in them before. Concern?

Rafe flits his gaze away from you, clenching his jaw, sure you can tell he just wiped a tear away before you knocked.

“What?” he says stiffly.

“Everyone can hear you,” you say. Rafe is ready to snap at you for daring to scold him when he’s so obviously in the middle of something tense.

But you’re gazing past him, staring right at his father, who’s clearly embarrassed. Your mouth is set into a hard line. Rafe has seen you irritated, but he realizes he’s never seen you angry.

“I don’t know what the issue is, but I doubt you need to scream about it,” you say. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. The last time you and Rafe spoke face to face, he was a jerk. But here you are, defending him.

“This doesn’t concern you,” his father says.

“It does when the whole building can hear you,” you snap. “Calm down.”

You glance at Rafe, whose eyes are red and glossy. He looks away from you again.

You can only scoff at this point, too worked up to go back to your room. You turn and rush down the hallway to take a walk.

Hearing Rafe’s father mock him for crying has tied a painful knot in your chest. Rafe’s not the warmest person, but he definitely doesn’t deserve that.

Rafe shuts the door, shoulders a little less tight than they were before you knocked. A moment passes before he looks back at his father, who shakes his head at him.

Ward seems a bit rattled. The fact that you did this to him would be funny to Rafe if he wasn’t so hurt right now.

“Get yourself together, alright?” Ward mutters, collecting his jacket and storming out of the room.

As you walk around campus, you can’t stop thinking about how broken Rafe looked after the verbal lashing. You hate to make excuses for the guy, but maybe this is a common occurrence for him and that’s why he’s so mad at the world.

An idea strikes you to try to cheer him up. Or at least make him laugh.

As you make your way back to your dorm, you text Rafe: you alone? can i come over for a sec?

Rafe wants you over for much longer than that. He replies a minute later: ya.

When he opens the door moments later, he’s embarrassed all over again. Knowing you saw him in that state makes his heart drum with anxiety. He was so vulnerable, so exposed.

“Hey. You okay?” you ask. You hold out a plastic bag from the on-campus drugstore.

“I’m fine,” he says, apprehensively taking the bag out of your hand. “What’s this?”

“Was that your dad?” you ask. He only nods.

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but he’s kind of a jerk,” you say. “I got you something.” You point to the bag. “You can use it when you run out of the one you already have. In like a year.”

Rafe can’t help but laugh when he opens the bag and sees a small plastic jar of protein powder. He thinks back to you teasing him for the massive tub sitting on his desk.

“Why…?” He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not used to getting presents.

“We’re… kind of friends now, right?”

“I guess,” he replies. Now that he thinks about it, it’s true. He has fun with you, and not just when you’re hooking up.

“Hearing what he said just… it pissed me off,” you continue. “And I have no idea how to cheer you up, but I do know you like this stuff.”

It’s such a silly gesture. But it’s so sweet, too. It makes Rafe’s heart twist in a confusing way. You care about him. As a friend.

“I just wanted to tell you that whatever you did… it didn’t warrant that,” you tell him. He watches you with an indistinguishable look.

He almost opens up about how painful it is when his father lays into him like that. Almost. But it’s awkward. Completely uncharted territory. He’d prefer to brush away the tension between you.

“You know what would really, really cheer me up?” Rafe slides his hand up the door frame, eyeing your chest, leaning closer to you. You laugh.

“Why don’t you tell the girl from last night?” you say. He wishes you’d seem jealous, but you don’t.

“Come on,” he whines, tilting his head back to silently beckon you into his room. Arousal and excitement bubble inside you, but you want to make him work for it.

“My back hurts from… what we did on the boat,” you admit. You’ve had a dull ache in your lower back since yesterday morning.

Guilt rocks him. You’re in pain? And he’s the reason? Shit.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling and yet again, he doesn’t know how to navigate it. Rafe has to pull the conversation back in the easy territory he knows.

“Why are you still so shy?” he says with a smirk.

“What?”

“Say it. What we did on the boat,” he teases, eyes hungrily trailing down your body.

You step back and roll your eyes, feeling your body flush all over again. While he has helped you gain some confidence, you’re not exactly as bold as he is just yet. Even saying you had sex in casual, sober conversation still feels a little weird.

“You’re annoying,” you sigh.

“You’re annoying,” he echoes. At this point, the exchange has become an inside joke. “And I think you need more practice if you’re still so nervous.”

Rafe tenses as he waits for your response. What if you say you’ve had enough of him? Or that you’re focused on Blake now?

You love the anticipatory look on Rafe’s face. You love that this arrangement between you two isn’t over.

“Did you not hear me say my back hurts?” you tease.

“I’ll make it better,” he flirts.

“How?” you ask.

“I’ll show you,” he promises. He puts the bag on his desk then pulls you in by the hips and leans down to kiss you.

The door slams behind you. His fingers slip beneath your shirt as he slowly paces backwards, taking you with him.

He settles onto his bed and you straddle him, resting your arms on his shoulders as you share slow, deep kisses. You feel his cock hardening at your groin.

“Where’s it hurt, baby?” he rasps, his nose nudging yours, his hand dragging up your spine. “You need a massage?”

He’s so tender during these heated moments. If he was like this all the time, you’d probably like him as more than a friend. But you know letting yourself develop a crush will bring nothing but bad.

“Everywhere,” you reply with a smile.

“I thought you said your back-”

“Nope, I said everywhere.” Rafe smiles against your lips and kisses your neck, slowly pulling your shirt off. He continues to pepper kisses over your skin as he unhooks your bra.

He gently squeezes your breasts, palms kneading you carefully.

“Even here?” Rafe asks.

“Especially there,” you say. He smirks, playing along, massaging your breasts. You start to writhe on top of him, head swimming in pleasure.

His hot mouth finds your nipple and you gasp at the sensation. With your cheek pressed against his temple, you rake your hand through his hair, feeling how damp your panties are.

You apprehensively part your lips to speak, telling yourself to say what you’re feeling like he always encourages you to.

“I’m already so wet,” you whisper. Rafe’s grasp on you tightens once he hears the words spill out of your mouth.

“I’ll massage you and then I’ll fuck that cunt nice and slow,” he says, meeting your eyes again, voice thick with longing. “You want that?”

“Mhm,” you nod breathlessly. His hands drag down to your ass, squeezing. His breath is shallow and ragged as he digs his fingers into your asscheeks, pushing you forward.

You bunch up the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders, tugging it off.

“Lie down,” he tells you. “On your stomach.”

You sink onto his bed, head on his pillow. Rafe takes your pants and panties down in one languid pull, his stomach numbing at the sight of your bare ass propped up just for him.

He starts at your calves, running his palms up and down. You sigh in contentment as he massages your legs, inching up to the backs of your thighs.

“I can tell you’ve done this before,” you say, your smile apparent in your tone. “You’re so good at it.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle. He hasn’t. He’s never touched a girl like this, never wanted to cherish and worship someone else’s body before. But he lets you believe he has.

When he reaches your ass, you tremble with the way he rubs you. Rafe watches his fingers digging into your flesh, squeezing, his cock aching at this point.

He moves up to the small of your back, his grip gentler now, thumbs rubbing into your hips.

“Here?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Rafe thinks back to the view of you on the boat in the moonlight as he thrusted in and out of you. You looked and sounded like you were enjoying yourself. He hates to think you were in pain.

“Did it hurt when we were doing it?” he asks.

“What?”

“On the boat,” he says. “Did your back hurt then?”

“No,” you laugh. “Or maybe it did and I didn’t notice.”

Rafe wants you to know how sorry he is. But mushy words have never come easy to him, so he leans over and decides to show you, instead of tell you, how guilty he feels.

His lips press between your shoulder blades in a warm, sweet kiss. You giggle at the sensation. He lowers and kisses you again, then again, then again, trailing down your spine, thumbs still rolling over your hips.

You’re reeling. The feeling is unbelievable. And romantic. This is like last weekend, when your time together felt less like fucking and more like… well, something deeper.

You realize you must be teaching him well. Because the sex doesn’t just physically feel good anymore. It’s emotional now, too.

You feel the mattress shift beneath you as Rafe settles on his knees over you, his legs boxing in yours.

He watches his hands run up your back, massaging deep into your muscles. You let out sighs of contentment and he fucking loves knowing he’s making you feel this good.

You feel Rafe put more of his weight on you as he kneels over, rubbing you tenderly. The change in position allows him some relief on his erection, rubbing up against your ass.

He hates that he’s still in his jeans, but at least his cock is getting some attention.

“Not too rough?” he asks.

“No,” you say, your eyes closed, your pretty lips parted. “Keep going.”

He continues to massage you, denim grinding against your ass.

“You gonna take your pants off?” you ask brazenly. Rafe smiles. He loves when you share what you’re thinking, especially when you’re telling him how much you want him.

He sits up to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them off and dropping them to the floor. He throws his boxers on top of his jeans and settles back over you.

The feeling of his smooth cock against your ass makes your blood feel like it’s burning through you. He shifts and leans over so that his length is between your asscheeks, his hands continuing to soothe the muscles in your back.

It’s overwhelming, how badly he wants you. And how he realizes that every time he fucks you, he’ll be wondering if it’s the last time.

Rafe continues to caress you, slowly rocking against your ass.

He can’t take it anymore. He sits up to grab a condom out of his nightstand. You exhale in relief when you hear the wrapper crinkling.

Before he enters you, he slides his hand down past your ass and presses two fingers against your hot, wet entrance.

“You ready for me?” he asks.

“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips so he can ease himself in.

When Rafe kneels over again, he guides his cock into you slowly. You moan at the sensation of him stretching you out with every inch.

The way your pussy wraps around him is perfection. He looks down to watch his cock bury into you, his arms hardly keeping him up.

He shifts to rest his forearms on the bed. His hard torso presses up against your back, his breath hot on your cheek.

“This pussy feels so fucking nice,” he groans into your ear.

He bottoms out and you can feel his thick cock fully immersed in you.

“I love feeling how deep you go,” you say. Rafe might just lose his damn mind. You have such a mouth on you.

He rocks his hips back, then plunges into you again. His teeth graze against your cheek and when he nips at your earlobe, you huff a laugh of pleasure.

“You take it so well,” he praises through heavy breaths, plunging in and out of you. “You’re perfect. Say it. Say you’re perfect.”

“I’m perfect,” you echo, and in the wild heat of the moment, you believe it for a second.

The sound of how wet you are is like a drug to him. He fills you over and over again, loving how you’re squirming beneath him, your hips circling.

“On your knees,” he whispers, propping himself up again.

You obey, back arched, giving him full access to you. His hand slips down your stomach and between your legs, finding your clit immediately.

He knows your body now. He knows it so fucking well.

He rubs in circles, his other arm locked and keeping him perched up, while he melts into you. His thrusts start to get harder and your moans get louder.

“Oh…” you whisper. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” he rasps. “Be a good girl and let me hear how nice it feels.”

Your walls are clenching around him now, your moans loud as you reach your peak, and he couldn’t stop his orgasm if he tried.

“Fuck,” he draws out, trembling as he cums. You flutter around him, climaxing at the same time, your sounds tangling together and your bodies shaking in harmony.

You’re twitching with aftershocks when he pulls out of you. Rafe runs a hand down your back, dazed as hell, appreciating how good you make him feel. Nobody’s ever had this effect on him.

He throws out the condom as you remain in his bed, coming down from the high. You turn to your side, watching him as he cleans up, your eyes taking in the sight of his taut, naked body.

This time, Rafe didn’t say anything about him, a man he wouldn’t name, not being able to fuck you as good as he can. But he called you perfect.

“Rafe?” you breathe.

“Yeah?”

“Did you notice that we didn’t have pointers for each other this time?”

If Rafe knew he’d be hearing that a couple of weeks ago when all this started, he’d assume he’d be elated. But his whole body feels heavy. Does that mean you’ve got what you wanted out of each other? It’s over?

“I guess we’re experts now,” he says with a laugh.

“I guess so.” You sigh deeply. “I’ll get up soon. I’m just so cozy.”

Rafe is glad you know you shouldn’t stay. A part of him wants you to, and it’s kind of jarring that he wants that. But it’s too intimate and meaningful if you sleep over after sex. He can’t handle it.

He typically puts his boxers on after cumming almost immediately, even when he’s still hard and coming down. No girl’s ever seen him soft before. It feels so vulnerable for some reason.

But he lies down next to you, facing you with his head propped up in his hand, both of you naked and panting and sweaty.

“A-plus?” Rafe asks, remembering you saying the same thing in his car.

“Without a doubt,” you say. Your smile is weak and sexy.

Holy shit. He realizes this is the definition of pillow talk.

No. This is aftercare. You taught him that it’s important.

Rafe gazes into your eyes, thinking about the look in them when you interrupted him being berated earlier.

You give him a small smile before standing to get dressed.

He turns onto his back to watch you and the gift in the plastic bag sitting on his desk catches his eye. He sits up in his bed, seeing you pull your underwear on as he covers his groin with his comforter.

“Thanks,” he says, with difficulty. “For, uh… the present.” And for caring enough, he thinks. For defending him in front of a man you’ve never met. For refusing to embarrass him with the fact that you saw him crying.

“Oh, sure,” you laugh. You enjoy the view of him sitting up in bed, muscles flexed and skin sheened with sweat. But mostly, you enjoy the way his hair is all tousled and messy, the way his eyes are half-lidded and content.

“Did… the whole building really hear?” he asks. You freeze for a moment, remembering how you snapped at his father.

“No,” you respond, hooking your bra. “I was just trying to make him feel bad. Sorry if I was out of line.”

Rafe chuckles. You have nothing to be sorry for.

“You weren’t,” he replies. He thinks about what you said when you came by again. Whatever you did didn’t warrant that. He needs to be sure.

“I racked up my credit card bill,” he admits. You meet his eyes as you pull up your pants, placing your phone on his desk.

“That’s it?” you scoff. “What bullshit.” It’s such a simple reaction, but it grants Rafe a sense of validation he’s not sure he has ever felt before.

He wonders how he can possibly tell you that he’s never had someone defend him against his father without sounding like a pathetic crybaby. If he even should. Why the hell does he have the impulse to share that with you?

A few seconds of silence settle between you. Before he can speak, your phone vibrates loudly on his desk. You peer at the screen and chuckle at the notification before putting on your top.

“What’s funny?” he asks.

“Blake just told me what an ABC party is,” you say, rereading the text. It stands for anything but clothes lol. People get really creative. “You guys are hosting one on Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Rafe replies coldly. He bets you don’t smile or laugh at his texts like that.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he snaps.

You meet his gaze and feel your brows furrow.

“No, seriously. What?” you ask.

“Just go,” he responds. You huff, anger brewing inside you.

“Rafe,” you say, annoyed. Why’s he so angry? Does he not want you at the party? Or is this jealousy?

He’s silent. Expressionless.

“God,” you snip. “Your temper is… I never know when you’re gonna fucking snap at me. Like the other day at the lakehouse. Before I left. I don’t know why you were such a dick out of nowhere.”

He completely forgot about that exchange. He didn’t know it affected you. That it stayed with you. All he could remember was how mad he felt seeing you with Blake.

Goddamn it. Why is he so jealous? What the hell does he want? Exclusivity? No fucking chance. The pressure of a relationship is the last thing he needs in his life.

“So?” you demand. Rafe just stares at you. “You can’t even apologize?”

He’s confused and bitter and frustrated. He simply shrugs carelessly, face blank.

You shake your head in anger, leaving his room without another word. You told yourself you would only expect coldness from Rafe from now on. You hate that you broke your own promise.

Rafe needs to stay away from you. This effect you have on him has him so damn disoriented, like he just got off a rollercoaster and doesn’t know which way is up.

He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend. And at the same time, he doesn’t want you to be a girlfriend. To anyone.

On Wednesday morning, Blake texts you asking if you want to study at the frat house in the afternoon.

You’ve looking forward to continuing to see if your chemistry is as good in-person as it is over text. You haven’t had much time with him, but you enjoy his company.

When you make it to the house, Blake opens the door with a bright smile on his face. He leads you upstairs to his bedroom, where he has blankets laid out on the floor and draped over the foot of his bed frame and desk chair.

“Did you make a fort?” you say with a chuckle.

“A study fort,” he replies. “There’s not a lot of space to study around here. I had to get creative.“ You laugh and settle on the floor.

Over the next hour, you talk more than you study. Conversation doesn’t always flow very easily, but Blake’s a sweetheart, through and through.

Rafe’s heart drops when he hears your voice. He’s sitting on the couch playing video games with Sam, craning his neck to look back at the staircase.

You’re smiling, your hand skimming the bannister as you make your way down the stairs. And of course, Blake’s beside you, the one making you smile.

This is hell. And he’s the reason you two even fucking know each other.

Rafe catches your gaze. You look so relaxed. As if it’s normal, the way you’re walking around looking beautiful and breaking his heart.

“Thought you hated frat boys,” Rafe says, eyes floating down your body, like if inspects your clothes hard enough, he can tell if you took them off upstairs.

You catch his harsh tone immediately. Of course he’s being mean. Again.

“They’re not all bad,” you respond.

Rafe might just break the controller in his hands. He looks back to the screen, stomach turning. He hears you say goodbye to Blake and shut the front door behind you.

As you step out of the house, you think that if you’re right, if Rafe really is jealous of Blake, why he doesn’t just do something about it. Why he doesn’t just ask you to be with him. Because even though he pisses you off so much, maybe you’d accept.

But if there’s anything you know for sure about Rafe, it’s that he is not boyfriend material. He said it himself. No couple shit.

“What’d you do up there?” Sam calls out. Blake laughs and settles on the couch. Rafe keeps his eyes on the screen.

“Studied,” Blake replies.

“Sure,” Sam replies.

“Seriously,” Blake says. “I’m not trying to jump into that with her.”

“Why not? Rafe did,” Sam chides. Rafe smirks at this. He’s glad the reminder’s there that he had you first.

“You two still messing around?” Blake asks. Rafe can finally make eye contact with him.

“Yeah,” he says firmly. “She didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask,” Blake says. He seems unbothered. This pisses Rafe off even more. As if Rafe isn’t a threat at all.

“You’re whipped,” Sam says. Rafe’s stomach drops, eyes darting to Sam. But he’s not talking to Rafe. He’s talking to Blake. “You haven’t even gotten any yet and you’re whipped.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Blake laughs.

“He didn’t deny it,” Sam tells Rafe, who wishes he did. “You making it official?”

“Gonna try,” Blake says. At least you’re not exclusive yet, Rafe thinks. He probably has a few more nights with you as long as you’re not eternally pissed off at him.

Blake taps Rafe’s shoulder.

“She’d be off limits if you actually liked her, man,” Blake says. “We don’t let girls get in between us.”

Rafe has to stop himself from scoffing. He doesn’t feel like Blake is his brother anymore. He doesn’t know the exact moment it happened, when he went from looking up to him to disliking him.

But if he wants a future at this frat, he needs to get along with everyone. Especially an upperclassman. And besides, what’s he gonna say? That he doesn’t want him to date you because the sex is too good?

“Right,” Rafe says, turning back to focus on the game.

That Friday night, another fraternity is hosting a mixer at their house. While it’s mainly for frat boys and sorority girls, Blake shoots you an invite. You accept, arriving at the house with Liv around 10 p.m.

Rap music is blaring through Rafe’s ears at the party. He realizes he’s checking the door to see when you’ll arrive. Blake said you’re coming.

He hates hearing your name come out of Blake’s mouth, but at least he hasn’t seen you together since Wednesday.

When you finally arrive, Rafe takes another swig of his beer and makes his way to you. He was supposed to stay away but you’re like a magnet and he’s fucking hopeless at this point. He actually misses you.

Rafe approaches you, blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Pretty sure you’re not in a sorority,” he says in your ear, ducking so you can hear him over the music. You smell his cologne, realizing just how much you’ve missed it.

Your last exchange was after your study date with Blake a couple of days ago. You’re still pissed off at how he snapped at you then. And on Monday, after you hooked up.

“Oh, are those the rules?” you say, an edge to your voice. “Since when did you care about rules?”

Rafe’s pulse quickens. You have this ridiculous effect on him, making him feel like he’s being pulled out of water he didn’t know he was drowning in every time he sees you.

“Since always,” he responds.

“Sure,” you say, squinting. You don’t return his smile. Rafe nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“What’s up your ass?” he mutters. You cross your arms.

“You’re kidding, right?” you ask. You try to give him some leniency, knowing what you know about how his father treats him. But it’s infuriating how rude he was to you. You know you don’t deserve it.

Rafe’s eyes dart away. He wishes you’d just forget about how he left things a few days ago. He grits his teeth and leans forward again.

“Sorry,” he says.

“For?” you ask. “Use your words.” He scoffs and sucks his teeth.

“I was a dick,” he finally mutters.

“Again.”

“Again,” he echoes.

“Be nice to me. I’m not friends with dicks,” you say. There’s that word again. Friends. Rafe swallows down his frustration.

“You seem to like mine,” he responds. You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder, but the smile on your face gives you away.

The moment is quick and small, but it makes his heart pound with a feeling only you give him.

“I need a drink,” you say. “Try not to piss anyone else off.”

Rafe hates that you leave his side so quickly. He realizes he’d prefer to spend the rest of this party talking to you instead of mixing.

As the night goes on, he forces conversation with his frat brothers, his eyes searching for you.

When a sorority girl strikes up a conversation with him, Rafe tries not to focus on how he’s comparing her to you and how you win in every category.

He’s standing by the staircase when he sees you again. You’re with Blake, standing inches away from him, laughing with him.

It’s a countdown at this point, Rafe realizes. Every day, he gets closer to losing the best no-strings-attached sex he’s ever had.

Fuck. It’s more than that. He knows it’s more than that when he sees you playfully push Blake’s shoulder the same way you do to him.

He’s drunk and annoyed and pissed off and wants to make you feel how you make him feel even though you’ve friendzoned him, so he cuts off the sorority girl in the middle of her sentence with a kiss.

She seems taken aback, but then she returns the kiss, her arms quickly wrapping around his neck.

Rafe keeps his eyes locked on you, and when you meet his gaze, seeing his mouth on another girl’s, your stomach swirls with uneasiness.

You turn your attention back to Blake and take his hand, leading him away so you don’t have to look at Rafe any longer.

(part seven)

author’s note: love you @rafesgiirl for the suggestion!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by formula1, olliebearman, mckennagraceful and 80,944 others

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user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

liked by aubreyyang

-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

oh

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[museum-mind]

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

ᯓ★ after receiving (and ignoring) your text which was calling him out, sae found himself growing nervous as he arrived in japan for the u20 match. what would happen to his fluttering heart as he watches you cheer for blue lock in the bleachers?

a/n : guess who’s back!!!! also, i’m sorry i forgot to link this to the request so a special shout-out to the anon who asked for a part 2. love ya!! ALSO! i apologise if this doesn’t match the blue lock manga / timeline.. i literally forgot like everything ( ；∀；)

“please wait until the aircraft has parked to take off your seatbelt.” the flight attendant spoke into the speaker with a commercial smile.

the rest of the words from her blurred, as a pool of emotions swirled deeply in sae’s gut. he can’t believe it, he thinks, as he stands up from the cramped airport seat, unbuckling his seatbelt. is he really here? the country he swore to never step foot in again — the home of the same person who he thought he’d never get the chance to see again.

it’s not like he want to see you, right? he’d mutter to himself, his feet carrying him through the airport quickly as he dragged his suitcase behind him.

as sae called over for a taxi, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over him. he sighed, letting the driver to whatever car drove to him pick up his luggage and place it in the trunk.

he’d open the car door, taking a seat in the back as he placed his sports bag beside him before buckling himself in.

the drive was silent, apart from awkward attempts at small talk from the driver — sae couldn’t stand it.

he wouldn’t say it was horrible to be here — but it certainly wasn’t enjoyable to be here. the japan u20 team was full of a group of weirdos. and the only reliable player he could pluck from blue lock was even worse.

“saaaeeee~” the said man squealed, twisting his body as a delighted grin finds it’s way onto his face. “i’m so excited to play with youuuu!”

sae rolled his eyes, reaching one of his hands to massage his shoulder. he groaned at the feeling; he still felt sore.

no matter how much practice he had, he could never relieve himself of the pain as good as you could. your hands were made for him.

“you need help with that?”

“no.”

“awww, come onnnn!”

“i said no.”

“itoshi sae!” the announcer called out his name, cameras flashing all across the stadium as he stepped foot onto the field.

“aaaand… ryusei shidou!”

sae rolled his eyes as the man jumped onto his back, shouting a range of odd phrases.

his sharp teal eyes scanned the crowd, and for a moment — the world stopped. he caught the gaze of a familiar person he used to know.

you.

you were just as perfect as he last remembered; maybe even more. you both held eye contact for a moment, sae being the one to break it and look away from you.

why were his cheeks so warm?

“come on you two, hurry up! the game’s starting soon.” the dual haired man would shout towards sae and shidou, ignoring the flustered expression on a certain player’s face.

the game went by pretty smoothly — sae was able to push you to the back of his mind, eyes focused on the field only. that was, until he heard the sweet sound of your voice.

it’s so familiar, so welcoming, he thinks.

“come on blue lock!!” you’d shout, arms raised high as your cheer for your friends. after you and sae ended, you ventured out into the world, eventually befriending a pretty woman named anri.

she introduced you to the group of rowdy foot ball players who stay cooped up in the soccer facility, and you became fast friends. she even let you work there as her assistant! totally not an excuse for you both to gossip together about which celebrities you think are the cutest.

you had grown fond of the bunch, even meeting sae’s younger brother. at first, he was wary. but as soon as he realised you were not like his brother, he saw you as an older sister of sorts.

the sibling he wished he could have forever.

“go rin, you got this!” you scream out for him, hands waving towards him with a large smile on your face as he glances your way, sending a brief, bashful smile back.

sae could barley believe his ears, quickly whipping his head around as he watched his brother grow more determined.

sae felt so frustrated. you should be cheering for him like that! but he messed up.

he messed up big time.

after a treacherous amount of time, sae could finally take a break at halftime.

“where did you keep looking off to?” one of the u20 players would ask sae, taking a sip out of his water bottle.

“no one.” sae would snap back — a little too quickly.

“what?”

“i wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“i never said you were looking at anyone?”

in the end, u20 lost. it almost brought sae back to his first game in spain.

he lost, thinking about you.

as he ventured out of the stadium, he was immediately caught by paparazzi and news reporters.

he paid no mind, staying on his track toward the car which was picking him up.

“itoshi sae, how do you feel about the outcome of today’s match?” a woman would ask, practically shoving a microphone into his face.

he scowled, a hand reaching to swat it away slightly. he looked off to the side, lifting the same hand to cover his eyes and shield them from the blinding lights.

but as he locked his gaze on you once again, he paused. a feeling that he couldn’t quite name came over him as he stood still for a moment. it was only a matter of time before the paparazzi would follow his line of sight, he thought as his feet began to bring him towards you.

he had to hold onto the strap of his bag tightly, afraid that he’d be caught trembling as he reaches. a shaky hand to grab onto you, pulling you into the shadows of a dark alleyway.

what was he doing?!

“shh.” he’d hush, placing his large palm over your lips as he leaned a little closer to you, a hand pulling you against his chest as he peeked over the corner. he watched the paparazzi run around like a bunch of rats, scurrying to find something, anything to write about.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking down at you. your eyes were wide, and he could feel the way you’re holding your breath. “calm down.”

you bit at his palm, your eyebrows furrowing together in anger as you pulled away. “calm down?!” you whisper shout to the man. “how am i supposed to do that? what is wrong with you?”

“just take a few breaths — like i told you.”

“that was years ago!”

sae stopped. this was futile. he was never able to properly explain his feelings to you. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he’s around you he feels his throat tighten and his stomach flutter. his head is light and his cheeks are warm.

only you could have such an effect on him, he thinks.

before you could say another word, he leaned down, lips pressing against yours as his eyes shut. he hoped that maybe — just maybe — this could tell you everything he wanted to tell you.

everything you deserve to know.

with a soft touch of his lips, he knows you’ll understand. you always did, he remembers.

“sae.” you mumble as he pulls away, your eyes blinking open.

he breathes out, only for a gasp to get stuck in his throat as you lean towards him, returning the kiss. you were so gentle, so loving.

“don’t say another word to me.” you say after breaking away. “your kisses are enough for me to understand how you feel.”

“i like the way you kiss me, name.”

“i know.”

[yeostars]

𓆩♡𓆪 ateez kissing your hand out of their affection for you <3

{maknae line ver.!}

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ᯓ★ san

• "sannie, make sure to tell them to add extra sugar in my coffee. You know I like sweet stuff, right?" You tap your boyfriend on the shoulder, who's standing in the queue at your nearby café store. You both decided to go try out the deserts and coffee at the newly opened café because the whole town was talking about it, and san knew how much you loved sugary foods so he accompanied you here.

• "You're already full of sweetness, my love, how much more sweetness do you need, y/nnie~" San said this, almost shouting and that too in front of all those people in the queue. Your cheeks immediately turned red because of san's words and the fact that quite a few people were starting at you right now.

• "Common. D-dont say such stuff in front of everyone. I'll be waiting for you at the tabl-" before you even got to complete your sentence, san grabbed you by your wrist, almost twirled you around and placed a sweet kiss on the back of your palm. You were even more flustered than before now. "Mmm. Definitely much sweeter than the deserts we'll have later, I can guarantee you that." San said, grinning. You playfully slapped him on the arm and returned to your seat, thinking what the hell just happened and why your boyfriend was such a cheeseball- but let's be honest, you loved it.

ᯓ★ Mingi

• Since it was the weekend, you decided to go shopping with your boyfriend at a nearby mall. You both wanted to buy a few new clothes and other stuff since a long time and now you finally got the opportunity to do so, together.

• You both entered a store which had absolutely stunning collections in both male and female options. While Mingi was strolling through the males section, you were are the females section and a beautiful dress caught your eye. However, the form of that dress seemed unsettling to you. You were contemplating long and hard weather you should buy that dress or not, and amidst that, mingi appeared besides you, asking you weather you had selected something to buy.

• "Nothing much yet, but hey, what do you think about that dress?" You asked him, pointing at it at the above rack. Before mingi could even respond, you added "I- I'm not sure it would fit me well. It looks so beautiful but I surely won't pull it off that well." You said. Mingi noticed your cute pout while looking at that dress and slowly took hold your hand near to him, and placed a soft kiss at the back of your palm. "You'd look amazing in that, y/n, I'm so sure of it. How about you go try it in the changing room, atleast? Although I'm sure you don't need to do that because according to my vision, you'll look GORGEOUS in it." Mingi said, and you flashed him a grateful smile, your heart melting because of his words. "you're too sweet. You flatter me all the time."

ᯓ★ Wooyoung

• You and your boyfriend were enjoying a day off at home, doing your own stuff: you were reading a book and wooyoung was gaming in the living room. You came up to wooyoung after you finished reading your book, sitting next to him on the couch, watching him game. "Hey, I wanna try gaming too. Mind if I play against you?" You said, watching how interesting the game he was playing looked like.

• Wooyoung let out a witch-like laugh. "Gaming? And you? Y/n, babe, please- last time you asked me to let you try out gaming, you were so frustrated you almost broke my gaming equipment. Not to mention what an absolute noob you are at playing. I-" You flashed him a pout and crossed your arms at him, not in a cute way but it was your habit when he teased you about something.

• "Fine, i just wanted to spend some time with you, and all you do is tease me. Guess I'll just go hang out with my friends for the rest of the day, then." You said, picking up your phone to text your friends, but wooyoung kept his gaming console aside, and took hold of your hands, gently kissing your knuckles. "Hey, I'm sorry. You know that I love to tease you because of how cute you are, right? How about we cook something delicious later together, cooking is something we're both very good at." He said, and you flashed him a smile, searching up on what you and wooyoung could cook together later.

• Jongho

• Jongho mentioned to you, on the phone that he'd come home a little late than usual because of their extended rehearsal. You asked him if he had dinner yet and he replied that he didn't have it, yet. You told him to not eat outside because you were preparing a special dinner for the both of you tonight, and Jongho said that he'll come home as soon as he can.

• An hour and a half later, the doorbell rang, and you opened the door, revealing your boyfriend in quite an exhausted state. You asked him to sit directly at the dinner table to eat. "Damn, i smell something delicious. Y/n, you won't believe how much I contemplated not eating whatever the boys had ordered from outside- I told them I'm leaving space in my stomach because you cooked something special for me. It better be good- I'm sure it is, actually." He said, and you giggled, setting up his food for him on his plate. He tasted one of his favourite dishes and a sigh of satisfaction left his mouth. "Mm, that's so delicious. As expected, your food never ever disappoints, Y/N." He said, and you smiled, watching him eat heartily.

• "I'm glad you liked it so much. A part of why I love cooking for you is because of your reaction and how well you eat whatever I make for you." You said, after the both of you finished eating and Jongho helped you take the dishes to the sink. "And a part of why I love you- is because you make such delicious dishes for me. Thank you, Y/N." He said, taking hold of your hand & kissing the back of your palm, gently. You blushed, whispering "you're always welcome", thinking about him kissing your hand the entire night - your smile never fading while reminiscing that moment.

[punktactical]

OLDER , ace + ?

★

summary ; ace finds out you like him. time to make his move! things don't seem to go as planned . . . (highschool au)

warnings ; cussing , older man - younger woman , crackfic-ish? , fluff.

a/n ; requests r open, that's all i've got to say

★

★

everyone knew you had a thing for ace, it was no secret.

you always asked to be partners in projects, always coming over to his house, and always finding excuses to be close to each other. so when ace finally found out, he was ecstatic.

"holy shit, [y/n] likes me?" sabo rolled his eyes, frowning. "didn't you know? it's obvious as hell." ace shakes his head, slightly flustered. he always thought you were cute but he never thought you'd fall for someone like him. luffy chewed on his granola bar, smacking loudly. "so are you guys getting married?" ace screeched, glowing red. "no, what the hell? that's for grown ups, luffy!" sabo snapped his fingers, bringing ace's attention back to him. "so what're you going to do now with this information?" ace shrugs, rubbing the back of his head. "ask her out, i guess." luffy raises his hand, grinning.

"there's a dance this friday after school, how about you ask her to the dance!"

so that's how ace got here, standing in the middle of the hallway with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a teddy bear in the other. sabo looked around the corner, before turning back around with a whisper-shout. "here she comes! get ready!" sabo and luffy rush to hide, while ace gulps down his nervousness. he can hear your sweet giggles down the hallway, chatting with your friends. he could listen to you all day.

you finally turn the corner, stopping in your tracks. there stood portgas d. ace, your close friend, holding a bouquet of flowers for god knows who. your group whispered amongst themselves, before nudging you forward. ace grins sheepishly at you, before holding the items out to you. quirking an eyebrow up, you question him. "what's this all about?" with a shaky breath, he answers -

"do you wanna go to the dance with me this friday?"

your friends squeal, obviously taking videos capturing the cute moment. you smile, cheeks warming a shade of red. "of course, ace." you grab the items and wrap your arms around him. he smiled into your shoulder, arms snaking around your back. he felt like he had finally won at life.

the day of the dance had finally come around, leaving ace anxious. does he look good? does he look stupid? why wasn't his hair cooperating, damn it! as he continued to fuss over his appearance, a looming figure crosses over him.

"ace?"

the raven-haired boy shrieks, spinning around. it was that damn old man, garp. he laughs at the younger boy, arms crossed over his chest. ace grumbles, pouting slightly. "can you not sneak up on me? i'm busy right now, grandpa." the older man shakes his head. "what's got you so worked up?" ace brushes through his hair, a soft blush collecting on his face. should he tell him? nah, he'll embarrass him even more -

"ace is going to the dance with his girlfriend." luffy speaks between chewing, a piece of chicken in his hand. "fuck you!" ace barks, stomping away to his room. he can hear garp's boisterous laugh from downstairs, taunting him.

★

"do you really need to drive me to the dance?" ace was currently sitting in the back of garp's car, arms crossed pathetically. garp shakes his head. "no, but i just wanna see yer little girlfriend." he grins, flashing his teeth in the rear view mirror. ace sneers at him. "why? you've met her before, it's [y/n]." garp's eyes widen, grin deepening. "her? that sweet girl? why'd she go as low as you?" ace is about to go off on him, before feeling a buzz in his pocket. snatching his phone out of his pocket, his face lights up at the text displayed.

' meet u there <3 cant wait to see u in ur fit xx '

he melted at your text, responding with a heart. garp looks at the boy through the mirror, smirking. "she textin' you?" ace nods, eyes never leaving his screen.

★

ace hops out of the car, waving goodbye to garp. "bye? i still need to take picture of you two, you're growing up real fast, ace!" grumbling, ace rubs his face. why did he need to keep embarrassing him? "ace, over here!" there it was, that sweet voice. the one he could listen to all day. his head snapped in the other direction, catching you in your dress, jaw dropping. you looked gorgeous.

"ace, go pose with your girlfriend!" garp smacks him on the back, sending him forward. "s-she's not my girlfriend, grandpa!" ace growls, standing next to you reluctantly. garp waltz over, a grin plastered on his bearded face. "you look lovely, [y/n]." you smile, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "thank you, sir." he chuckles.

"just call me garp, sweetheart."

you blush, watching him position his phone before taking the picture. "you both look great, less ace though."

"whatever, you can go now!" ace ushers him back to the car. "i'll be back to pick you up, see you kids later." he winks at you before finally driving off. ace sighs, relieved, turning back to you. "[y/n]? you okay?" you have a dazed look on your face, a bright red dusting your cheeks. "ace."

"your grandpa is so fucking hot."

his face dropped, eyes widening in horror.

maybe that's why you always wanted to go to ace's house, to see garp, not him.

who knew?