#(but god do i want to be wrong i'd be so happy to be wrong)

[izzy-b-hands]

S W shop talk and random abt the day stuff below. no details abt the actual vid just filming talk and me whinging abt my joints lmao, but scroll by if this aint ur thing

i just finished an hour and a half of straight filming for the u kno what blog lmao

it'll be my longest one yet, and idk exactly how to go abt it yet (cut it up in davinci and post clips with the offer for the full vid if they m$g me? post the whole thing and comment that it's an example of a vaguely niche ish thing that I'd be happy to do customs for and hope someone wants to set one up????)

but im proud of myself. yesterday into today has been nicely productive counting everything including this, and while this last thing maybe isn't a traditional accomplishment to be proud of, this is a bigger step for me in that direction. My audience is small but bigger than i thought it would ever get and like.

the money is v little. but maybe if i keep trying to improve it will become more, and in the meantime im quite satisfied with the latest few comments from ppl aksndjfnf

that said tho GOD im old and things aren't working well if ever they did and like. my knees ache. we walked the beach earlier yesterday and between that and the Posing for this bit of work, I've aggravated my right knee and ankle especially, and am standing typing this waiting for the radiating pain to stop so i can walk on that leg and take a fucking shower lmao

Worth it tho, for all of it

[eraserbread]

hi, how are you? I hope you take requests rnnn

how about nanami with a pregnant wife who has a bit of a baby brain? and she's feeling so bad about the whole thing bc of hormones + insecurities, so he comforts, reassures an makes it all better

more of my wife guy!nanami ✧

→ f!reader, est relationship, pregnancy, slight angst, mostly fluff

"happy anniversary, baby." you're smiling, leaning over kento's frame at the dinner table. he's resting his chin in his palm. luxe spread of meats and vegetables on his plate. after your terrible first trimester, you can finally cook for him again, though he doesn't expect it.

"what's this?" his light eyes flit to the white gift bag you're setting next to the meal he shrugged off moments ago.

"it's nothing, really." you watch as he opens it, hands crossed behind your back when you walk to your awaiting seat. he pulls out a box, and inside the box is a small, gold heart locket. he shoots you a look.

"dear, this is endearing for sure, but-

"open the locket."

so, he does, and inside is a picture of him a few years younger. on the other side, you two are pressed together. kento's stoic, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you smile for the camera. his eyes soften.

"how thoughtful." you can't read him right now, but there is a smile in his eye only you could recognize. "I don't know exactly how thrilled I am with the idea of wearing a locket, but it is a beautiful ornament."

"mm, don't worry i will be taking and wearing it. you have everything you need, the only gift I can give is... experience, I guess. babies, marriage."

"and that's all i need, hm." he nods for your hand, hanging the locket over your fingers when you give it to him. "but, baby, i'd be much more receiving if it was actually our anniversary."

"w-what do you mean, it's june." you're turning over your shoulder to the calender kept on the refrigerator. it's june... you married him in-

"july. we got married late july."

you falter for a moment, eyes going blank, brows knitting together. kento watches along, familiar with these bouts you work yourself into during pregnancy. it's almost... cute, dare he say. like a confused puppy, though you feel like shit.

"fuck."

"no need to work yourself up; it's okay." ken's rushing in for damage control, knowing the faintest sparks of emotion could do you in for an entire week. he doesn't want to make you feel bad, and he loves the gift. in fact, "the locket is perfect. can't wait to see you wearing nothing but it."

that makes you laugh—almost. it's not enough. you can feel the overwhelmed tears starting to brew in the corners of your eyes. you hide your face in outstretched hands.

and kento is standing up at once, heart beating a little quicker in his chest as he reaches to comfort you. "don't feel bad, you know I never care about transactional things like this."

"that doesn't make it better." at the sound of his sweet, comforting tone, you're crying. finally. he's wrapping big arms around your shoulders, palms flattening over your jutting belly. against his figure, you're swaying like the breeze. he's so warm.

but your mind is on fire, you can't live it down.

"no, i know that because it's just after your birthday... god, what is wrong with me?"

"shh... it's okay. I promise you I do not care. the locket is so beautiful, and I'm so happy you're still thinking about yourself. anniversary or not, it's extremely thoughtful." he kisses the top of your head, sighing into your hair. "hey, I love you. it doesn't matter; nothing matters."

"i know you don't care, but i feel like an idiot." you sniffle, hiccuping softly as he kisses you again... and again. he's so perfect.

"you're so sweet." another kiss to the head, "when you're forgetful. it always gives me reason to help you."

"you're shameless."

"mhm." he laughs. it's light, but it's there—lost in your hair. "shake it off, you'll upset my daughter."

[painttedwolfdog]

I love being Malaysian. I love my country, I love my culture. But god is being trans so so so hard here. Especially as a trans man, obviously not to say trans women/fems don't struggle, of course they do, but Im talkin trans men/mascs uniquely here alr.

Our society is still very misogynistic, which of course means heavy emphasis on feminity, purity, marriage and traditional roles. If you're Malay, like me, meaning you're ethnically muslim, that means marriage is suuuper important. Arranged marriages aren't out of the realm of possibility, and child marriage is rampant. Legally, I could've been married at 16. 16! The legal age for boys is 18. Then don't get me started on child marriages in certain states, which allows for children younger than 16 to be married off to a suitor far older than them LEGALLY. My parents aren't the type to marry me off at 16, thank god, but they joked about it. It grossed me the fuck out.

But Im an adult now, they could find some hot Ustaz to marry me off to, and I'd be raped and impregnated by him and nothing can be done because marital rape isn't actually rape here. Divorce? I doubt they'd let me, they'd tell me to work it out over and over before they'd actually let me leave.

Traditional rape, is still thought of as partially the victim ("womens") fault. It's still the clothes you wear. If you wear "revealing" clothes it's partially your fault. You should've been more stern, should've been more compliant, if you did everything right you wouldn't have been assaulted and impregnated! What? You want to get rid of it? You monster! How could you? It's your baby!

The inkling of me not wanting to get married pissed my mother off, she cited our religion to put fear in me to marry. It hasn't worked on me, I want to get married anyway. Just not as a woman. The idea of me not wanting children pissed her off too, I was required to have them as a god fearing woman of faith. My husband would want kids, and I would give them to him. Blegh.

If I die here, I will be buried with my birth name. If I die here I will die a girl. If I die here I will be mourned as such. If I die of violence here it will be listed in the category of woman, cis woman. No one but those who knew me for me would know that it was wrong. I don't want that.

I wonder how many people like me are out there in this country. I wonder how many of them are happy, living as men, I wonder how many are unhappy. Living as wives to men they maybe love, probably don't, forced to ignore who they really are. I wonder how many of them are dead.

So I will live, I will breathe. Stay a malay Malaysian man, gay as all hell, till the end of my days. I will grow old. I will be the goddamned tranny my mother hated and others will know the name of. I will live

[nightingale-prompts]

Demoted-DCxDP prompt

Another day another hero coming into Danny's space. Danny's R&R pocket dimension has been host to heroes coming and going as they please and at this point he has surrendered to it. The only real issue he has is them asking for help or advice. Sure he's on the level of a multidimensional God but that doesn't mean he actually wants to interfere with the world. He sees the bigger picture and the movements of the universes and knows the full extent of his powers effects on it. Simply put. He helps them in a wrong way and it will mean the aftershocks will ripple across all reality.

Sure it's enough to make a believer to reject all gods when they realize that he has to power to do whatever but chooses not to. But listen Danny is not a god. It's their job to manage their creations. Not his. He didn't make any sentient being.

Still, they come asking for help, and Danny does what little he can/wants to do(which is little). He makes artifacts. Small and useful things to help like a magical gadget to assist them.

He expects payment of course but that another thing.

Right now he was being badgered for advice by...um what's his face? Umm, green guy? The one with the uh...ring. Yeah him not the other green one with the stupid beard. Danny thought he was cool dude. Not like the other one from that other dimension, ugh. He was an edgy asshole, no wonder no one cared when he died. Danny didn't went want him so he booted him into a new dimension and life almost instantly.

Always the green guy was asking for advice about something.

"The red lanterns have their own reason to exist but is that right? To live in hate? Of course, they are evil but if their leader was vanquished could they turn to better purpose?" Hal asked the floating teen who was half listening as he observed the universe from inside his observatory.

Danny sighed as he adjusted his telescope. The view instantly focused on Atrocitus.

"The question is if anger could be put to good use. Atrocitus wants revenge but you seek him and his lanterns to avenge. One is done in vindictiveness and the other in righteous justice. Righteous, anger, justice, resentment, malice, and desire. These are all just words to me created to describe abstract excuses you make for yourselves. Right or wrong it doesn't matter." Danny sighed.

"Right and wrong does matter." Hal frowned.

"Oh, so you are telling me? The way I see it, it a petty concern because rage will always exist. Who are you to say it's wrong Green." Danny laughed at him like he was talking to a child.

"There is a wrong way to express anger. When you hurt innocent people to get your revenge. And there is a fair way to get retribution so that other people do not get hurt. You should only hold those who have done wrong accountable but punishment should be fair. It should be done to prevent more pain. Even if no one is happy with the results you shouldn't torture someone because you are hurt. There is a right way and anger isn't always the answer....but it is a part of healing. I won't condemn them for being angry because I understand where it comes from. But their way as it is now is not the answer."

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Great, so you have your answer. Didn't need me to help you did you?" Danny said shifting the viewfinder again back to his previous task "Seriously, if you need validation on whether you are doing the right thing get a sidekick."

Hal got a weird look in his eyes.

"No way. I'd have to demote myself back to a solid corporeal form." Danny crossed his arms.

"But you are still a kid. A teenager at that. I'll take good care of you and everything. What's wrong with going back to being a human.'

"Half-human." Danny corrected "and stop talking before the other ancients overhear and agree."

"Actually, I agree. You need to stay connected to sentient life while you're still young. And you have been rude lately. I think the lanterns will suit you."

****

Hal:So this is my new sidekick the Grey Lantern.

Danny:*crewing off his fingers to get rid of the fused black and white Lantern ring he has been fused with*

Bruce: Isn't he the god we have been using as a contact?

Diana: Ancient actually.

Barry: I think he's trying to kill himself.

Hal: Don't worry, he can't. His rings unique oath is about forming a cycle of life and death. He can't die or be revived. He's just stressed, like how a parrot plucks it's feathers.

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

Chapter I

Masterlist

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 지젤 ꒱ ── pink haired girl 𖥔 synopsis. . . you just debuted and obviously dating scandal wasn't in your bingo card, but your senior was so pretty, it was hard to resist not to stare at her all the time ꒰꧞ ˃ 𛱊 ˂ ꒱ྀི

지젤 ／ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝 reader ៸៸ idol au fluff ⟡ ⌢ . kissing petnames ( baby, love ) now is playing! . . confessions by loossemble

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. omg so happy im finally posting something on this account because i couldn't wait any longer lol. this work is not proofread, i wrote this super quickly bc i love aeri uchinaga <3

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who you met at music bank after your pre-recording performance. you were the one who needed to film a tiktok challenge with her, so you brought a signed album of your group and learned whiplash choreography before meeting her.

honestly, you couldn't stop staring. giselle just looked incredibly beautiful, her makeup was flawless, her outfit was perfect and she looked hot to say at least. maybe your cheeks were blushing too much and your face were getting too hot or she was just so beautiful and her personality made you feel a little dizzy.

"oh my god Im so, so, so sorry.." you apologized again after you made a mistake in whiplash choreo. one of the easiest dance in your life and you were doing it wrong for the fourth time, what was your problem? obviously you were too distracted and nervous around giselle wich made her giggle.

"it's okay! we can do it again, yeah?" she tried to calm you down and smiled. her smile was so soft and sweet you almost melted.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who wanted to make you feel less awkward around her and asked if she can buy you a drink after you finished filming.

"what?!" you're eyes widened in surprise, you just couldn't believe that your aespa bias wants to buy you a drink. you were so excited to finally see her up close after years of fangirling, but you never would've guessed she would like to get closer? you blinked a few times and cleaned your throat before answer. "yes, I'd like that!"

"okay," giselle simply replied and led you towards the cafeteria to buy some drinks. she thought you were cute, blushing all the time and making mistakes in steps and she definitely knew it was because of her. she couldn't let such an adorable girl like you go away without her knowing you better, right?

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who asked for your number before you could disappear in your group's green room. you happily accepted her offer, taking her phone and accidentally touching her fingers with yours. the contact got you blushing more and you almost looked like tomato now, but you did gave her your number after all. what a win.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who will always text you something like "you fid a great job" or "you looked so pretty today" after she saw your group performance or show.

you would immediately blush, smiling at your phone as soon as the shoot was over and your members would tease you.

"so down bad that's insane.."

"y/n get up!!"

"can you just shut up! why can't I like a cute girl?" you whine, annoyed at their behavior as you sat down on the couch to reply to giselle's text.

"so you like her?"

"I didn't say that!" your head comes up as soon as you've heard your group mate's words which you have definitely said a few seconds ago without even realizing it.

"mhm, you obviously do."

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who can't stop talking about you and your performances and her members are tired of it. she notices everything, the way your hair looks on stage and how good you look with that hair color, the way you smirked after successfully finishing your part and her favorite moments are where you're the ending fairy.

that was the moment when giselle knew she liked you and not because you're great artist, but because you were sweet, adorable and she just couldn't stop thinking about you. she never felt like that about anyone else before, all her attention was at you, now she was the one fangirling.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who's fancams from awards started getting viral in kpop community because she was smiling so hard seeing you perform, singing along to your parts and was basically simpling over you.

"aeri unnie is trending on twitter again?" ningning asked out of sudden, looking up from her phone.

"what? do not tell it's something bad.." karina already started freaking out if it's about hate or a dating scandal. "why?"

"because she's looking at y/n with heart eyes," ningning laughed at giselle's surprised reaction while karina sighed with relief.

"I do not look at her like that, what is your problem! they're definitely making it up," giselle was trying to defend herself, but it sounded so bad her members couldn't help but laugh.

"why are you trying to make us believe that you don't like her if we already do know you're in love?" minjeong rolled her eyes.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who is making you nervous all the time when you're together even though you've been friends for a few months already and you were hanging out pretty much every weekend.

"are you blushing?" giselle asked, pocking at your cheek playfully which made you both giggle.

"yeah.." you reply shyly, continuing drinking your milkshake to get over this awkward situation.

"cute." she whispered and you almost choked on your drink out of surprise.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who is always making sure you're eating well and resting even when you don't have schedule or comeback coming up just because she is worried and she cares about you a lot.

"have you eaten yet? we can go grab some lunch together." giselle said, placing her hand on your shoulder to get your full attention.

"mm? yeah, alright…" you simply answered, not looking up at her and continuing watching the choreography you need to learn until the month ends.

"hey, are you okay?" she asked. giselle was truly worried about you, she already told you about that and tried to help you with anything you might need, but you were so into that comeback preparation, she just couldn't do anything. "you need to eat, baby.."

"huh?" your eyes flushed open as you finally looked up at giselle, realizing how close she was sitting to you and the warmth of her hand on your shoulder was definitely doing something to you. you've never heard her using nicknames for you except one's that were versions of your name, but 'baby' was something new. and you liked it. a lot.

"sorry, I—"

"no, no it's okay! totally fine!" you tried to sound not as excited as you felt, but oh you failed. "I liked it.." you whispered.

"what?"

"nothing, let's go eat…" you quickly changed the theme and stood up from your seat, leaving giselle no time to think about the fact that you liked being called 'baby' by her let alone give her a chance to discuss it with you.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who loves watching your fancams and fan made videos just for fun because you always make her smile and laugh like no one else.

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who was the one confessing her feelings to you as soon as she get out of the red carpet at the award.

"there you are! you look so pretty.." giselle almost lost her mind when she saw you in that outfit. the color suits you perfectly, makeup makes you look even more gorgeous and elegant, she just couldn't help herself when those words came out of her mouth. "I like you."

"what?" you couldn't believe what you just heard. not only your friend that you had a crush on just confessed to you, but she looked incredibly good it was so hard to think about something but her in that black dress in that exact moment. fuck how can you be so stupid and act like that when she's right there saying she likes you. "are you serious?"

"dead serious." she nodded and you came closer to press a soft kiss on her cheek, pulling off quickly just to see a red lipstick mark on her skin and smile.

"I gotta go, but I'll text you later, okay?"

"okay." giselle smiled back at you.

"and I like you too."

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who would spend all her free time at your doorm for two reasons: one. she's tired of her members. two. she missed you a lot.

"let's watch something!" you suggested, trying to escape giselle's grip on your waist although you didn't actually want her to let go off you. you loved when she acted clingy, it's sweet.

"how about this new kdrama that came out.. what was the name?" giselle pouted slightly while trying to remember the name of the show and she looked so cute that you already didn't care what you'd watch. your hands wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to you. you breathed deeply, smelling her hair and smiling at the strawberry scent. her pink hair smelled like strawberries…

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who can't let her members steal you from her because they want to get to know you better but she knows they'll like you so much and would try to spend more time with you and become friends.

"absolutely not, love. can't let ningning befriend you, she'll definitely gonna hang out with you all the time and then with us two together and then we won't have time for each other and—"

you rolled your eyes at giselle and pulled her closer to you, kissing her to finally make her stop rambling about nonsense. her lips felt so soft against yours. not just her hair, but she even tasted like strawberries. when you pulled out to breathe, looking at her with the most adoring eyes possible, you smiled.

"don't be silly, she won't replace you. nobody ever will."

SUNBAENIM GISELLE! who is just the most supportive girlfriend ever. in all honesty, she is always there to make you feel better, to make you feel loved and say how much you've done and that she is proud of you.

obviously you can't leave her alone at those moments too, you both know how much it means for each other that you'll share your feelings, love and support. you will always be there for her and she will always becthere for you no matter what.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.” 

[matt-murdockk]

Tolerate it

i made you my temple, my mural, my sky now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

words: 1.7k

summary: He comes home bleeding. Again. You ask what's wrong. He kisses you instead. You let him— until you can't, not anymore. Love is not the problem. Silence is.

warnings: implied smut, detailed description of making out— almost smut actually but then a truckload of angst to balance the vibes, cussing, not a happy ending

a/n: i'd say sorry in advance but i'll be honest i enjoyed this way too much lmao. fic clearly based on tolerate it by taylor swift. special shoutout to the best person of all time @foreverwinterstan13, the person without whom this fic would not have existed at all, ilysm, this one's for you *shoots basketball into hoop and misses*

——————————————————————————————————

You heard the door unlock but didn’t move from the couch. You didn’t have to look. You could feel it— Matt’s presence in the way the air shifted. Heavy, worn out. Quiet. Keys in the bowl. Jacket on the hook. A slow, sharp inhale.

You stared straight ahead. “You’re late.”

No answer.

A few seconds passed. You heard him step into the room, that near-silent way he walked when he was trying not to show how much it hurt. You turned your head, eyes landing on him. Blood smeared across his temple. A bruise blooming near his jaw. His shirt was clinging to him with sweat, wrinkled, dark around the ribs.

You sat up straighter. “Matt—”

He crossed the room in two strides and kissed you. Just like that. No greeting, no warning. Just his mouth on yours— hot and urgent and desperate.

You froze for a second. Then you gave in. Because it was Matt. Because he knew exactly how to touch you, how to quiet every screaming part of your brain. Because he always came home like this— broken, aching— and you always let him.

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you gently into his lap. You straddled him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, one hand threading into his hair. His breath hitched when your hips rolled forward, and you felt that familiar spark burn down your spine.

He kissed you deeper. Rougher. One hand slid under your shirt, the other bracing your waist like he was afraid you'd vanish.

You pulled back, barely, just enough to speak. “You’re bleeding.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, mouth chasing yours again.

“Matt—” you started, but his hand cupped the back of your neck and pulled you down. His lips moved to your throat, slow and reverent.

And God, it felt good. Too good.

You let him. You tilted your head and gave him more. His fingers brushed the underside of your bra and your breath stuttered.

“I’m serious,” you whispered, even as your hands tugged his shirt up. “You’re hurt.”

“I just need you,” he breathed.

And you wanted to believe that. You wanted to give him whatever he asked for. You wanted to lose yourself in him until you didn’t care what time it was or how fucked everything felt. So you let him keep going.

He laid you back on the couch, pressed kisses down your body. Your shirt was bunched around your ribs. You were shaking and aching and trying to hold yourself together.

“Matt…”

He kissed back up your sternum, across your chest, dragging his lips like he was memorizing you. Like he was sorry. Like he was praying. You arched into him, a broken sound in your throat. You loved him. You loved him so fucking much you could barely breathe.

But—

Your hands came up and pressed against his chest, not hard, but firm.

He paused, lips just under your jaw. “What?”

You were still catching your breath when you said, “I can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes opened— barely. He didn’t move.

You swallowed hard and sat up slowly, pushing his hands off you. “You walk in looking like you got hit by a truck, and you won’t talk to me. You kiss me like it’ll make it go away. Like I won’t notice.”

“I’m not trying to make anything go away,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I just—”

“You what?” you asked, searching his face. “You need a distraction? You want to forget about how much you're bleeding, so you touch me like I’m the one that needs saving?”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Your voice rose, bitter now. “Say the part out loud? Because God forbid we ever talk about what this is.”

“You think I don’t care?” he shot back, rising to his feet. “You think I’d come home to you every night, let you see me like this, if I didn’t care?”

“I think you don’t let me in,” you snapped. “Not really. I think you come here because you like the idea of being loved. Because it’s warm and safe and I don’t ask you to be anything more than what you already are. You like feeling close to something good. Something safe. But when it really matters, you shut me out.”

“That’s not fair.”

You stood too, wrapping your arms around yourself. “No. What’s not fair is how I feel like a stranger in my own relationship. What’s not fair is how I spend every day wondering if you’re still in this, or if I’m just—”

You stopped yourself.

Matt’s voice was hoarse when he said, “Say it.”

You looked at him. “If I’m just something you tolerate.”

That landed like a fist to the gut. His head dropped slightly, like the weight of your words physically knocked something loose in him.

“You’re not,” he said, and for a second you almost believed it. “You’re not.”

“Then show me,” you whispered. “Tell me something real, Matt. Anything. Why won’t you let me all the way in?”

He didn’t answer. Just stood there, silent, the echo of his guilt ringing louder than words ever could. And that silence was worse than anything he could have said.

“Right,” you breathed. “That’s what I thought.”

You turned away from him, but he stepped forward. He took a step closer, hand half-lifting toward you like he wanted to close the gap, but he didn’t touch you. 

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking. “I love you more than I should. That’s the problem.”

You blinked, stunned for half a second. Then your expression hardened.

“Don’t turn this around on me,” you said sharply. “You chose to be in this. You let me in.”

“I know,” he murmured. “That’s where I went wrong.”

Your breath caught. “I’m sorry— what?”

Matt’s hands were at his sides, balled into fists, like he was holding himself together by a thread. He ran a hand through his hair, the motion sharp and messy.  “It was selfish. Wanting this. Wanting you. Wanting… a life.”

You stared at him, heart thudding in your chest.

“You think our relationship is a mistake?”

“I think I dragged you into something I never should’ve. I thought I could do both— be with you and still be… me. But who are we kidding, (Y/N)?” His voice broke again. “I can’t have normal. I can’t have domestic bliss and lazy Sundays and arguments about what kind of soap goes in the bathroom. I’m not built for that.”

You took a slow step back. “Don’t do this.”

“As cheesy as it sounds, I am doomed by the narrative,” he said, half-laughing, bitter. “I know how my story ends. Short. Bloody. Alone.”

“Stop—”

“I should’ve never brought you into it,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

You looked at him like you didn’t recognize the person standing in front of you. “Matt… I don’t need you to be someone else. I don’t need picket fences or lazy Sundays. I just need you. I need you to talk to me. To let me in.”

He didn’t answer.

“Don’t say things like that,” you said, voice shaking now. “You’re not alone. You don’t have to be.”

He looked at you for a long, aching second, and then said quietly, “Being with me is a constant trial. It’s always going to be like this—pain, fear, never knowing if I’m coming back, or God forbid, something happening to—” he stopped himself, jaw tight, and looked away. “I can’t do that to you. I won’t.”

“No.” You stepped closer, voice firm despite the crack in it. “I love you. I’ve chosen this. Chosen you. You don’t get to just—”

“I want us to remember each other in love,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as what we've become. Not as something broken.”

You stared at him, stunned. For a second, the room was silent except for your own heartbeat in your ears.

Then your voice cut through the quiet— sharp, shaking, furious.

“You don’t get to do that.”

Matt’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t speak.

“You don’t get to tell me you love me and then walk away like it means nothing. You don’t get to pull me into your world and then decide it was a mistake.”

“I never meant—”

“You did,” you snapped. “You said it. You think this was a mistake. Us. Me.”

He looked away.

You took a step forward, eyes burning. “You’re a fucking hypocrite, Matt. You told me to trust you. You said we’d figure it out. That we were in this together. But the second it got hard, you shut down. You ran.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit,” you bit out. “You were trying to protect yourself.”

He flinched.

You kept going. “You say you love me? Then prove it. Stay. Talk to me. Fight for this. You don’t just get to throw your hands up and disappear.”

Matt’s voice was low, but unyielding. “I’ve already done enough damage.”

You stared at him like you didn’t recognize him anymore. “Coward.”

His face tightened— hurt flickering under the surface— but he didn’t argue. Didn’t fight it.

You felt your throat close, the weight of it all crashing in.

“I love you,” you said, softer this time. Like maybe if you said it gently, it wouldn’t shatter between you. Like if you remind him one last time, he’d maybe change his mind.

Matt closed his eyes. His breath stuttered, chest tight like it hurt to contain it. He pressed the heel of his palm to his brow, like he could rub the thought of you away, like the words tasted wrong in his mouth before he even said them.

A slow exhale. A muscle jumping in his jaw. His shoulders dropping like surrender.

“It’ll pass.” 

a/n: oh yeah, i threw in a little fleabag :)

[bumblehoneybee]

I saw you take requests and I was soo happy!! I rlly loved that “easy smiles” Drabble u wrote abt curly n reader, so I’d like to request (pre-crash) having a late night conversation with him where reader is getting burnt out/struggling mentally and he can kind of tell? Romantic/platonic r both fine, maybe js some comfort from our fav captain? :) augehghh i want a hug from him so bad. if u don’t feel like writing this that’s more than okay, have a great timezone!! <3

You Can Talk To Me

He doesn't mean to catch you in such a vulnerable moment.

Curly only meant to get some water after hitting the john, but as he shuffles into the lounge, all he can hear is your shaky breathing. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, heart picking up speed as he spots you sat on the couch with your head tilted over the back, staring up at the ceiling.

You only notice him when he calls your name, stood at the edge of the couch.

"Ah," you snap your head up, obviously twinging the muscles of your neck, "oof." You rub the knots out, flashing a weak smile for Curly as he settles onto the couch next to you. "Aha. . . hi, Captain."

"Are you okay?" Curly asks, hands raised and unsure of what to do. Anya is asleep, and he's no real doctor himself, so the options for immediate help are limited.

"Oh, I'm fine." You waft your free hand at him. The lights of the fake window douse your skin in an almost sickly color, like all the blood is gone from your face. Your eyes look dull too. "Just, y'know. . ."

There's a long pause. Seems you can't think of anything to make an excuse out of.

Curly sits next to you, and tries to think. You've always been so. . . jolly, quick with jokes and ideas to lighten the mood. He knows you can't always be happy, but he's never been privy to the moments when your guard falls. This is a first for him, and he's surprisingly nervous.

He's comforted most everyone on this ship. He knows how to do it. So why does the thought of comforting you and doing it wrong scare him so much?

"You know. . ." Curly starts, frantically grasping at the words that are usually so easy. "I know it may seem. . . unprofessional, since I'm technically your boss-"

"You're captain." You agree with a nod that you immediately regret. The rubbing gets faster.

Curly huffs at you, burying amusement under concern. "You can talk to me. I'm higher up, but I'm not one of them." He gestures to the nearest poster of Polle. You shoot the horse a glare on instinct, but your face is quick to fall. "I just want you safe and happy."

The quiet returns, and with it his offer hangs heavy over the two of you. You stare down at your lap, hand still loosely clinging to your neck. Curly tries not to stare at you, but god, your eyes just look so. . . sad.

He wishes he could take your hand, show you he's here for you. But that wouldn't be smart, would it?

A heavy sigh rushes out of your nose. "I guess I'm just getting a little tired." Your face pinches as you say it, so Curly lets you piece your words together. "It gets repetitive, y'know? Everything is the same, day in and day out. I try my best, cause I know everyone here is feeling the same kinda stir crazy I am, but. . . I'm tired."

Curly lunges forward as your shoulders sag, palm pressed to the space between them before he can think better of it. "Yeah?"

"I miss plants." You tell him. "Trees, flowers, grass. I miss the sky and the sun. These damn monitors-" You throw an arm towards the screen in front of your both, face screwed up in disgust. "I hate them. They're not even close to something real. Hell, I'd take looking out into space over them."

Curly's thumb has started rubbing into the base of your neck without him realizing. He can't bring himself to stop, though.

"Back home, I could just visit somewhere new, meet new people, pet a dog and smell enough flowers to give myself asthma." You laugh a little at yourself. Curly smiles, and you return it, sheepish. "Sorry. I do like all of you. I hope I don't sound like I'm sick of ya."

"We like you too." Curly says with a pat on the back. "I get it, though. Days can blend together here, drive you crazy." An idea wiggles into his head, one he can't dismiss, even if it's technically against protocol. "If you want a change in scenery, I could show ya the cockpit?"

Your head snaps up again, and this time Curly is the one to rub the wince from your neck. "Really??" You flounder suddenly, and it strikes just how close he is to you. His face burns as he eases back, hand tingling from the touch of your skin. "I mean. . . if it's alright! I don't wanna impose if you're busy."

"Nah," Curly waves the worry away, "it's nothing. Hell, I could teach you how to fly, if you're interested?"

"Very much!" You chirp.

The lights dim further, probably a code Pony Express programmed to save energy while the crew slept. It doesn’t matter, though, for your grin and bright eyes light up the entire damn spaceship.

You have never smiled at him like this before. Curly desperately wants you to do so every day, though.

"Then we'll do a lesson tomorrow." Curly says. He stands up, a hand offered to you. You take it, squeezing his hand before you let it go. "Try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Aye aye, Captain." You do a mock salute, striding off with a wave. "Sweet dreams!" As you pass through the door, you make sure to bow. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow!"

With you gone, Curly lets a grin take over his face, hiding it behind his hand.

Seems he's getting some alone time with you tomorrow. He's going to be having sweet dreams indeed.

[bbitches]

don’t you

Charles Leclerc x Reader

synopsis: angsty fic based on the song ‘don’t you’ by taylor swift 😃 lmk if you want a sad ending or a happy ending

warnings: kinda sad and kinda shit ngl, i wrote this in math class so probably a shit ton of mistakes, and its not proofread :)

no hate to alex!!

Hey, I knew I'd run into you somewhere It's been a while, I didn't mean to stare

It was inevitable. You knew this. You remember Charles vaguely mentioning that he was invited to some movie premiere, but you didn’t know it would be this one.

And he must’ve known you would be here, you were quite literally in the movie.

Maybe he’s moved on, so he doesn’t feel the need to avoid you.

But it’s only been 6 months, how could he move on so quickly when you feel like the hole in your heart would never close up?

You let out a sigh, brushing your sweaty palms on your dress, rehearsing things you’re supposed to say on your interviews: the dress is by Antonine Guerin.. makeup sponsored by Charlotte Tilbury..

Once the staff gave you the signal to step onto the red carpet, your name was frantically called by one of the interviewers.

“Y/n! Hi!” the woman said, “We’re so glad we caught you!”

You gave a polite smile in return, “What do you have for me?”

The woman smiled, “We love your dress! Tell us, who are you wearing? What inspired it?”

Bingo. “Thank you. My dress is Antoine Guerlin. Umm- The gold details are, obviously, inspired by greek-“ You continued, repeated lines your publicist made you memorise, when you saw someone approaching in your peripheral vision.

You didn’t realise who it was, until the lady said, “Thank you, Y/n. Charles! Do you mind stepping in with Y/n?”

Charles. Charles. Charles.

You lifted your gaze to look at him.

Those eyes. The eyes that stare down at yours, tired, lustful when you make love.

Eyes filled with so much pride after he wins a race, eyes that look for you as soon as he steps out of the car, eyes that tease when you reluctantly wear the extra jacket he brings you every time because he knows you were cold and that you didn’t bring one for whatever reason, eyes that comfort when you blame yourself for not being good enough, when you don’t win an award. Eyes that-

The lady cleared her throat.

Fuck.

Charles falters when he catches your gaze- your stare.

You both gave a nod in greeting.

“Great!” The woman said, “Now, I know it’s tense with you guys, since you broke the whole internet with your breakup announcement a couple months ago-“

God.

“What happened? You two were going strong, with almost 8 years together.” The lady finished, looking pleased with herself, and you fought the urge to bitch-slap her across the face.

You opened your mouth to repeat the same answer you gave every time, the one your publicist carefully crafted for you, when Charles beat you to it.

“Yes, Y/n and I broke up.” He started, “I’ve.. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Y/n, and I know she feels the same. But sometimes love isn’t enough to fix a relationship. Trust me when I say we’ve tried everything, but somethings were bound to end.” He swallowed, “We will always love each other. Y/n was- is a very special and important person to me. She always will be. And I hope you-“ His eyes flickered to you for a millisecond. “-she never stops smiling that beautiful smile of hers, and I wish her nothing but the best.” He finished.

The woman stared at him for a few seconds, “Wow- Thank you, Charles! I’m sure she’s falling right back in love with you right now-“

Wrong. It only made the ache in your heart worse. The longing you felt for him strengthen.

-

F1gossip shared a new post!

liked by user1, user2, alexandrasaintmleux and 368 others

F1gossip: BREAKING! Y/N L/N AND CHARLES LECLERC HAVE BROKEN NO CONTACT AT THE GLADIATOR II PREMIERE! When asked about their breakup, Charles Leclerc gave a VERY emotional answer! (link to the video on our story)

user1: the pain in y/n’s eyes omg

user2: isn’t @/alexandrasaintmleux the girl charles was seen sneaking around with after chary/n broke up? why’s she liking this

user3: CHARY/N COME BACK TO ME

user4: The way they look at each other is the definition of LONGING

user5: can they stop being so angsty and get back together?!

user6: what did charles want to achieve with that answer tho

-

I heard she's nothin' like me

They confirmed it.

You’ve heard rumours, sure, but you didn’t think he would move on this quickly.

Alexandra and Charles confirmed their relationship with a story of them cuddling in bed. At least, that’s what your friends told you.

You and Charles had long unfollowed each other, on both your public and private accounts, and viewing his story would be.. awkward.

You scrolled through Alexandra’s photos from google, since her Instagram was private.

She was tan, her hair was perfect, her body.. Perfection. She was perfection. She was everything you were not. Her appearance exuded grace, class.. At least, that’s what this gossip article says.

She’s private, nobody knows anything about her, and her life was peaceful.

She was everything you weren’t.

I'm sure she'll make you happy

Charles finally found what he wanted. Peace. In her.

*flashback*

“Chérie, please, understand that I- I can’t do this anymore.” He whispered.

“Come on,” you pleaded, “we’ve made it work for years, I don’t see why it-“ You said, but Charles cut you off, “Mon dieu, Y/n, they broke into our apartment!”

You stared at him.

“I-“ You started.

“No, Y/n.” He said, “No.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, “You knew what you were signing up for- Hell. you were the one who said not to worry about- about the fame, the press, the paparazzi, the fans- You told me to go for it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” He said, “Je suis désolé.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s not like- You have to deal with the fame too, I don’t see why mine is an issue-“

You’re rambling now, trying to salvage what’s left of your relationship with the love of your life.

“Y/n, listen to me.” He said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, “First, some fucker flew a drone to our bathroom window, hoping to catch you naked. Then they flew it into our goddamn apartment throw the balcony.” He said, moving a hand to grab ahold of your chin, making you look up at him.

His voice softens when you make eye contact, his gaze softening, “People stalk you. Everyday. You can’t go out without a bodyguard anymore.” He leans his forehead onto yours and whispers, “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t live my life when I know I’m being watched, Constantly. I’m used to it, I know I have to deal with this with my own career, but with you- It’s different. The- The hollywood fame is different from my kind of fame. And it’s too much for me. I need some peace for-“

“So what, this is the end?” You cut him off, pulling away.

“I just-“ He sighs, pulling back his arms, “I just mean that we should take a little break. Put some distance between us to clear our minds, then we can talk.”

You swallowed, “But what if we don’t?” You continued, “What if- What if we don’t talk- What if we don’t come back to each other?”

Charles stared at you for a beat.

He ran a hand through his hair, the same hair that you run your hands through every night.

“Listen, let’s just.. Take a break for a couple of months, and when we feel like the time is right, we’ll reach out, alright?” He said, his voice softening at the end.

He cupped your cheek with his hand, kissing away your tears.

*end of flashback*

She had the one thing you couldn’t give him. Peace.

But don't you Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been

It was inevitable that you bumped into him sooner or later, Monaco was a small place.

So you weren’t surprised, but you certainly weren’t prepared when you quite literally bump into him when you’re on your way to the bathroom at your (and his) favourite restaurant in Monaco- Étoile Monte Carlo.

“Y/n!” He said, a warm smile and dimples plastered on his face, “Comment as-tu été?” (how have you been?)

How have you been? How have you been?

“Just fine,” you said, forcing a smile on your face, “And you?”

“Great,” he said, smile widening, “I’m here with my girl-“ he caught himself, smile slipping from his face.

You cleared your throat, “That’s great, Charlie.” You said, “Have fun.” Giving him another small smile, you slipped into the bathroom.

Don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again

“Y/n!” He called after you.

She’s not you, he wanted to say, she’ll never be you.

“I miss you.” He blurted out. It was the best he could do.

You turned back to look at him.

Without a word, you vanished into the bathroom.

He collected himself, and went back to his table- The table you two sat at, every time. Every week. Your table.

You don't know how much I feel, I love you still

And the only thing on his mind was you, even when his girlfriend welcomed him back to their- your table, was a kiss to the cheek.

You.

The only thing he wanted to do was to come back to you.

So why don't you, don't you?

-

Sometimes, I really wish that I could hate you I've tried, but that's just somethin' I can't do

“Yes, my girlfriend- My Alex is here today.” Charles’s voice pours from the TV in your living room, “She’s my number 1 supporter. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

He won the Monaco Grand Prix.

All those late nights, and warm afternoons on his yacht talking about how you’d celebrate with him when he finally wins. Sipping champagne together, with his head laying on your chest, and your fingers playing with his hair, discussing where to eat on the night of his Monaco win- Because he would rather spend that night with you, rather then going clubbing.

You always go back to one conclusion: Étoile.

You were his biggest supporter. You were the one who picked him back up, the one who stopped him from spirally after every bad race.

You were the one who talked about his dreams- His home win with him.

But you don’t hate him for saying otherwise.

“..This win is for you.” He said, quietly, to the camera. Others would think he directed that to Alexandra. But you- You knew it wasn’t.

You hate him. You hate him for leaving you when you were at your worst, when you needed him the most. You hate him for moving on so quickly- Or, pretending to, at least. You hate- try to hate him for saying everything he’s said, for doing everything he’s done after your split.

You try, but you can’t.

My heart knows what the truth is I swore I wouldn't do this

You stared at your phone.

‘mon coeur ❤️’

It wasn’t your fault- The ‘delete contact’ button was right next to the ‘call’ button.

And it wasn’t your fault that you were slightly tipsy. You just got a leading role in what you believe will be the biggest movies of the year, you had to celebrate.

Fuck it, you thought.

YOLO, right?

You hit the call button.

It rang- One, two, “Allo?” You heard.

His voice was rushed, a hint of shock in it.

“Y/n?” He said, his voice rushed- worried, “Êtes-vous d'accord?” (are you okay?)

Maybe it was the dramatic side of you that was controlling you right now, because for some reason, you burst into tears.

“Y/n.” He said, “Listen to me.”

After a beat, “Mon ange, listen to me.”

“Tu me manques, Charlie, tu me manques-“ you said. (I miss you, Charlie, I miss you)

”Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, "listen.. I can't do this."

Your heart dropped, "what?"

You heard some shuffling from his end, "I'll just go straight to the point, Y/n. I can't do this. I 'm with Alex now, and.. it's serious. She's.. she's sleeping right now-"

On your side of the bed. Where the nightstand was once overflown by your little trinkets- Jewelry, mints, your chargers, now filled with her perfume- Her.

"-And I can't do this to her." He finished.

You stilled.

Can't do this to her? You can't do this to me!

"But you said that this was only gonna be like a break. Some temporary space, and that things will go back to how it was." You rambled, "You promised." Your voice cracked.

He promised, didn't he?

"I can't do this to her, Y/n, I'm so sorry." He repeated.

"And what about me?" You said, finally, "What about me?"

"I'm so sorry, Y/n." He said, for the tenth time, "I'm so sorry."

So I walk outta here tonight Try to go on with my life And you can say we're still friends (But I don't wanna pretend)

"You'll always be welcome, Y/n. With me or with my family," Charles continued, his voice cracking a little, "We can be friends, still, if that's what you want."

A beat of silence, "I don't want to lose you, Y/n. You're really special to me."

You didn't lose me, you left me.

"Okay." you said, "okay."

"Y/n," he started, but you beat him to it, "good night, Charlie."

So if I see you again

Don't you (don't you) Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been

Sometimes you find yourself wearing his hoodies to sleep.

Don't you (don't you), say you've missed me if you don't want me again

He texts you 'merry christmas' or 'happy new year', and things like that on special occasions.

He still invites you to family brunch with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo.

His brothers still catch up with you from time to time.

You still go to brunch with his brother's girlfriends, pretending that you don't mind when they cancel on you for Alexandra.

You don't (you don't), know how much I feel I love you still

You're at brunch with Arthur and his girlfriend.

It's turned into a once-in-6-months thing, when it used to be a weekly or monthly thing.

You pretend that doesn't hurt you.

"You know, he's really sad you never come to brunch with everyone anymore." Arthur commented.

"Why would I? I'm not his girlfriend anymore, and it'd be weird." You said, "Besides, what would his girlfriend think?"

Arthur and his girlfriend stared at you for a few seconds, "You don't know?" Arthur finally blurts out.

"I guess that bastard wasn't lying when he said you two don't talk anymore." Arthur said.

"Know what?" You said, eyes flickering from Arthur to his girlfriend.

Arthur cleared his throat, awkwardly.

"They're engaged."

So why don't you, don't you?

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

so, any ideas for part two? something like that fic called wistful yearning (One of my fav fics) or just angsty shit?

[bunny-jpeg]

hello! i stumbled upon your blog and i must admit i LOVE the bakery theme. can i get a berry trifle and coffee with oscar piastri please? thank you so much!!!

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! check the original post for all the information & prompts! as for this prompt, i am loving that people are into the whole rivals idea. i love writing rivals for f1, it's like the soap opera aspect of f1. it's very funny.

berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals) served to you by oscar piastri (formula one!)

cw: smut/pwp, (failed) rivals au, driver!reader, driver!oscar, a dash of breeding kink, unprotected sex, references to masturbation, cowgirl position,

okay, oscar didn't hate you. despite what the press had been alluding to after hungary, oscar didn't hate you. in fact, he had respect for you, you were breaking barriers for women in the field.

but by god, did you light a fire in him.

when he first met you, you were in the semi-baggy driver's clothes. the fabric didn't give you much shape. so oscar just thought you were the cute new driver.

that was until you attended an event for ferrari with leclerc, the dress-code did not include the driver's suit. that was when oscar got a good look at your figure. there was a strength to your form that could clearly be seen by the lack of full sleeves on the dress you wore.

oscar didn't know he was attending the gun show!

but that only made his carnal craving for you grow deeper.

"she's turning a lot of heads." charles remarked before he took a sip of his drink, "i told her that if she really worked on it, she could get some hefty sponsors."

"or a date." lando remarked as the three men watched you talk your way through the room. eventually lando said, "i'd smash." before he downed his drink and got up to get another one.

charles looked to oscar and asked, "what are your thoughts on her, piastri?" he was genuinely curious, oscar was quiet about you.

oscar sighed and made a face, "i want to crush her on the track." he turned to the other man and shrugged, "i don't care if she's a woman, i'm here to win."

-

you beat him in belgium. you also beat norris, leclerc, and verstappen. you held that trophy over your head while the national anthem of your home country played. oscar swore that he saw tears in your eyes.

there was a buzz about you over the course of the summer break. oscar took it as an opportunity to invite you to england. all driver's ran in the same circles and oscar was just extending an offer for you to get out of monaco for a week!

"i promise, it does get sunny... sometimes." he said to you over the phone. he didn't admit but when he heard you beautiful voice on the other end of the line, his hand was already around his cock.

he was in anticipation for your visit and was more than happy to pick you up from the airport. you threw yourself at him and laughed.

"you were right, it is hot!" you were wearing a light sweatshirt, "i honestly thought you were fuckin' with me. you must be cold, mister australia!"

he scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes went wide when you hastily took off the sweatshirt, exposing more of your body to him. he didn't know that ferrari made such tight tank tops.

oscar's plans to really cement you as a rival failed upon impact. he thought this trip was going to be really getting to the core of you and cementing himself as you rival. but, instead you were helping him make breakfast because you 'felt bad' that he was doing 'everything'.

it was two eggs in a pain and couple of sausages.

you lingered around him, he noticed by the second day you smelt like his body wash when you got close enough to him. you were all bright smiles, soft gazes and tight little tops.

oscar ended every night with his cock in his hand, idly masturbating until his legs cramped up. the sick little kink he often let his mind wander about was the breeding kink.

his dream was two seasons with you at mclaren (sorry, lando). you in the bright orange across the paddock. then halfway through the second season, you start feeling unwell. you'd be too stubborn to take a pregnancy test, but with the amount of tests drivers have to take, it wouldn't be long before you were confronted by the fact that oscar got you pregnant! then you start a bright new future as mrs. piastri, and lando can come back (yay, lando!).

that was why his plan to make you his rival failed, because his need to get his cock wet overrode everything else.

it took a week before you two started sleeping together. you could only drink, laugh and play so many video games before you led him back to his bedroom like a siren.

it was met with giggles and bad jokes. hands touching skin and finally the clothes were shed.

oscar liked you on top, as did you. you liked having the control of your movements as your pussy was a vice around his leaky cock. you were on birth control (duh), but the other driver didn't need to know.

he honestly thought he was taking you raw.

"tell me who's going to win it all this year?" you asked as you rolled your hips. his cock was snug in you, you had to admit, the other driver was packing some heat between his legs.

and he wasn't afraid to use it.

oscar rubbed his thumb against your hip and said, "yeah, number eighty-eight for mclaren." he smiled cockily.

"wrong, try again." you said as you laughed and tapped him on the nose, which made him groan. you bent over himself as you rocked your hips and kissed at his face. he looked visibly relaxed.

"oh c'mon!" he laughed as he tried to set the pace himself. but you placed your hands on his chest and anchored yourself. you were not letting him take control.

you leaned in to kiss him again. the air conditioning in the room prevented it from getting too hot. but, oscar could see the slight sheen of sweat on your naked body in the afternoon light.

"you don't think i'll beat you?"

you shook your head and continued to move up and down on his cock. you pushed the hair out of your face, "oh, don't be silly, piastri." you playfully slapped his toned chest, "we all know i'm going to beat you." then flashed your press smile.

words like that made him want to breed you even more. but, he kept those thoughts to himself. he didn't want to risk losing such a sweet pussy in his close proximity.

it'd be hard to win championship when you were carrying the other driver's baby!

you rested up against his chest and rolled your hips. you had taken his cock to the root and it nudged against you with each thrust of your hips. you could feel his balls up against your pussy.

"shit, fuck. you feel so good."

"i bet you say that to all the girls you bring back to this place." you laughed as you really worked at riding him. you panted heavily as you moved against him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, "nah, nah. no girl's as pretty as you." oscar's plan slipped through his fingers, he wanted you more as a wife then a rival.

"well, aren't you sweet, oscar."

the two of you continued to fuck in the afternoon light. the pleasure pumped through your body as you rode him. you knew you weren't going to last long, that was one thing you could admit about oscar.

he was a good fuck.

the bed squeaked a little bit under the both of you. oscar's orgasm hit him hard and he finished inside of you in a huff. his nails dug into your hips as you continued to ride him till you found your completion.

he looked in a bit of a daze as you continued to hump against him. you felt the sweat on your back and oscar's strong chest under your nails, your short nails scratching against the skin.

"shit, oscar." you groaned as you reached your climax.

you were both out of breath. you didn't know what to do after you stopped your movements besides just giving him a firm pat on the chest. you panted, "good. good."

he laughed, "excellent. now c'mere."

you soon laid out on his chest and linked your fingers with his. your legs tangled together as you laid there trying to catch your breath. it was almost intimate.

you kissed at the other's collarbones, "so what do you say, piastri? another round and then we can get some dinner?"

-

that evening you called charles up, you were seated on the balcony of the flat with your legs kicked out on the small table.

"leclerc residence, charles speaking." he yawned on the other end.

you replied, "it's barely eight o'clock. you're getting too old." with a hint of laughter in your voice. in all fairness you were a little tired too.

"glad to see you're alive in england. how's oscar?"

"good, good. our little mission is a success." you beamed on the other end, "oscar will be as docile as your little leo."

charles chuckled on the other end, "if he is, he's going to need more training. i don't get why you didn't start with lando? he was into you too."

"yeah, but oscar's accent got me first." you sighed, "i mean, eventually the two will tear each other apart." you shrugged.

"or tear you apart." charles remarked.

"i'm not too worried there, leclerc. you men are quite funny sometimes. i'll tell you everything when i get back."

your teammate replied, "whatever, just don't come crawling back to me when they both catch on and you've got cum coming out of your ears."

formula one was a man's world, but if you could keep a man like oscar piastri on his knees for you. then maybe you had a chance of winning the championship.

[erwinsvow]

Pregnant with pope’s baby after a month of dating?! Gorlllllll I want it

What’s wrong with me??

i need to elaborate on this after my exam tm but like. oh my god. the ideas are just ideaing so good for this plot. first of all being so shaky and scared about telling him because he literally has only known you a few months and you're knocked up and he probably thinks you're trying to trap him or something and you don't even know how to get the words out. just not ready to be a mom and not sure if he even wants kids or will want you after this—though you can't imagine him being mean to you. he's never been anything even close to the realm of mean to you. and you try to imagine his reaction and what you'll say if he's upset and you can't think of anything either. so you tell him and start crying from the nerves and the hormones and telling him you're sorry and he's doing that think where he just stares and doesn't say anything but you really need him to say something this time. and then i said this once before but it's we're having a baby? and normally i'd say it would be realllyyy fun to explore the non-married having a baby story like it would be so cute and doing all these firsts quickly like moving in together and trying to figure out how to live together and adjust to each other but. i just don't think it would be like that!!!! this is andrew we are talking about. imagined a whole life with you in his head that he thought, if anything, you might not want to be a part of the longer you spend with him. goes dizzy when he thinks of how you're carrying his baby. that you will always be connected to him because of the baby. that you two made that baby together. especially as you fill out and get more hormonal and clingier and he's just... very happy. the way you two act people would think you've been together years and years. it still comes out in certain ways—he barely sleeps and you can only take so many nature documentaries. you want yellow or green for the nursery but he says something about blue or pink. in the very beginning right after you tell him, he goes to city hall to get a marriage license and you have to have a serious talk about it (though he wins that conversation—babies need a stable household with two parents under the same roof with the same last name. what are you supposed to do? you agree with him and you're hormonal and very much in love with the father of your baby and so you jump into a decision that maybe should have been made in the future, but, oh well. love makes you do crazy things.) and well, you don't get the chance to have a flashy engagement ring because you were never actually a fiancee—you made the jump from girlfriend to wife overnight. you move to a nicer place where he paints the nursery (yellow! you won that argument at least) and doesn't let you help. goes to one of those pregnancy classes with you but you two don't make it to the third class—they keep asking the husbands and wives to talk about each other and the things the other one loves to keep a strong connection after the baby comes or whatever and you and andrew don't know that much about each other. but you both learn, that's what matters. and guess what!!!! its twins

[miyaz6ki]

Been seeing alot of spiderman Kinich content on the clock app and this gave me an idea

Reader gets gwen stacy'd and kinich fails to save them lol then he wakes up and then they bang

──── through the phone mask

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. before he goes, how about a peck, yeah through his mask!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. spiderman!kinich x gn!afab!reader (this will end up in smut, so !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!) angst + comfort (in a way?? death mention but no actual death happens! just a bad dream)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. oooo i could not stop thinking about this during class!!

"mwa!" you cheer- briefly backing away as you admire you boyfriend, kinich, that puts his mask on. you pray that this spiderman stuff didn't pressure him at all.

"mmm... one more?" as he turned around to face you again. you chuckled as you tilted your head, stepping closer to the window sill he crouched on. "one more? i think you've had enough for today." a teasing tone present in you sonorously.

he gave you a pleading look in hopes to earn accolade (in which this case is a kiss. or two. or three.) you could giggle, feeling the way he still tried to kiss you through the mask he wore, concealing his identity to all, except you of course.

"mmmwa!" you brush your lips against the fabric that kept all of this a secret. you were so pretty when you smiled. he likes that little dimple that appears on your cheek when you grinned- or maybe the mole on your neck right there. mmmaybe he should count them soon.

but when there's a moment where kinich saves everyone but you, he'd never forgive himself. when there's a moment where kinich can catch everyone when they're falling but you. when there are gonna be moments that only star him, and missing you. like how a seed would long for a soil bed, or how the moonlight doesn't shine without its sun.

he was terrified of losing someone as precious as you were. for as long as you both lived, he wanted to spend as much time with you. his love language was all about spending time with you, and doing things for you, he knew you could handle yourself, but he loves knowing you rely on him for a few things (even if they're simple). so losing you would be losing a huge part of himself.

in all the years you both got to spend together, you spent it along side your best wingwoman; mualani. growing up by both of your sides, he never felt alone, or unneeded. he felt everything was finally coming together.

so when he saw the scene before him- it was you. being stabbed in the stomach by a spike below the now-broken bridge. even in death you were so pretty. your head was laid down on his lap, barely opening your eyes, just enough to let a few tears trickle down the softness of your cheeks.

"i'm.. sorry i couldn't do enough for you." were the words you whispered, holding his cheek before finally passing on to the next world.

no he couldn't handle the scene at all. and only now is when he realizes- he should spend more time. he'll make sure you won't feel like that when he meets you again. he knows he'll recognize you. he'd know you from anywhere, anytime, any appearance, anywho.

kinich wakes up in tears, clear tear stains on the place he rest his face into. your pjs have small marks, drops of tears where they'd landed off his face. your eyes flutter open a few seconds later, realizing he's no longer in your arms.

"kin? wh.. what's wrong? why are you crying?" you immediately got up to wipe the small sobs off his cheeks. "..you're still here.. thank god, you're still here." he suddenly hugs you, fitting his head into your nape. his hold was tight, and affectionate. enough to know that he's happy that you're still present.

"yeah, i'd never leave. was.. was it a dream?" you asked, massaging his scalp to soothe his stress. he could only hum in response, he felt a little pathetic to admit that he was, but it was the first step to accepting it.

"do.. you ever feel like i'm mistreating you?" his head popped up from the spot it was previously. "what? no you're not. in fact, i feel like i'm not doing enough for you, baby." you chuckle, shifting your head to front him a little better.

"you've done more than you think for me." his hand held a soft grasp on your palm, you could feel a few scars on his hand. "really? i find it hard to believe." you let out a giggle, certainly a superhero who does things to make sure the city is a safe place for all, feels like you do more? that was in your point of view anyway.

"may.. i show you how much i can repay you then? i want to show you.. i want you to feel how thankful i am that you're here."

whatever it was in that dream of his definitely helped yours come true. "mmm, someone's ahhn- enjoying, ngh themselves.." he grunted out, hitting you from behind so good, you can't do anything but sit there and take it.

you could feel every little ridge on his dick, the sweat emitting from your body, combined with the drops spouting from the pores of his palms. damn you couldn't even hold your own moans back in courtesy for the people in the next dorm. "mmmffffuckkk.. s'good kin.." you whined, you shut your eyes in ectasy

he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your plush ass barely swallowing his shaft each time. every shlick only made you even wetter. you could feel his length twitching inside you, each time he hit your very core.

your folds felt so insanely good, wrapping around the base of his dick so well, even inside you it felt so warm. the way you were basically getting stretched out, it reached even further into you, in his observation seeing how your eyebrows knitted- he assumed you liked it like that, kissing your insides!

he slowed the pace of his sloppy thrusts briefly to reach over for the phone on the nightstand. "you mind if we take a photo, pretty? love the way you look right now, 'd hate to miss such a face."

he'd be too busy admiring your face to realize how long he'd been grinding against your precious spot. he knew exactly how to make you use the expressions he wanted.

kissing your neck hungrily, making sure you face the camera as it recorded, letting it see all of you.

watching how your body reacted to his so well, he couldn't help but coo into your ear about how good you were doing.

"such a pretty kitty, mmm? and they're all mine aren't they? he continued, on the edge of the bed- making sure you see yourself in the mirror in front of you.

"this is what i admire everyday. hnnn.. s'tight, fffuck.." he groaned into you, letting you sit on his dick, riding it while watching his reaction through the mirror.

you couldn't help but piston your hips repeatedly, you were already so wet, might as well put it to use!

he held your hand throughout everything, squeezing it every now and then to indirectly ask if you're doing okay. kissing down from your nape to your shoulder blades, you were perfect from the ground till your ears.

for what seemed like the umpteenth time, he cums inside you. warm seed shoots up into your body, creaming on his cock at the same time.

kinich who holds you by the waist, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. still trying to catch his breath- but still makes an effort to kiss your cheek.

still makes an effort to carry your trembling body to the bathroom. still makes an effort to clean you up. still makes an effort to eat you out slowly afterwards.

he who already misses you while you were still in the room. he couldn't help but cuddle with you for a bit before going out again. it was sunday already anyway, and he spent the moments where the sun rose elsewhere (eating you out/giving bj)

kinich who loved the idea of making out with you right after, still having to go out since you both spent the whole night.. intimately. half of his mask is still on but all you do is lift it up a little, enough for his lips to be visible enough for you to peck.

he makes sure you're sound asleep before he goes, he'll be back before you know it anyway.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ₥ØĐɆⱤ₦ ĐɆ₥Ø₦₴ ♰

♰ Pairing: slasher!yunho x chubby!fem!slasher fucker!reader

♰ Genre: smut/dark romance/horror

♰ Summary: With a ruthless, brutal killer on the loose the safe thing to do would be to stay as far away from dangerous men as possible. But you've never been the kind of girl to play it safe and when danger comes in the form of a man like Yunho, how's a girl to stay away?

♰ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♰ Warnings: Yunho's a literal serial killer, neither of you die but someone does, sorta vivid description of a limb being chopped off, voyeruism in a way, slasher fetish, sadism, masochism, dom daddy Yunho, choking, restriction of movement, a lil nipple play, penetrative sex, sex covered in blood, dirty talk, scratching, hickeys, other forms of marking, creampie, manhandling, pet names (baby, princess, good girl), you're both kinda psychos...obviously.

♰ A/N: I'd like to say, "Oh, I wrote this because Halloween is coming up!" but, no, I didn't. I'm just a slasher fucker, okay? A part of this was inspired by one of my favorite horror movies and if you can guess it then let's get married. Love you forever.

On a side note, thank you @dawn-iscozy for suggesting Yunho for this. I didn't regret that decision for a solitary minute.

There’s a killer on the loose. A brutal, wicked man who stalks the night preying upon unsuspecting victims. Some say he only goes after those he perceives as having done something wrong. His own perverse way of balancing the scales, righting the wrongs that the cops don’t have the balls to fix.

Others say it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. Your chances of being butchered are all the same, sinner or saint. One thing’s for sure, once he has his sights set on you not even god himself can save you from the fate that awaits. You’re gone in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. At least not in one piece. 

You’ve heard the warnings a thousand times over but none of them struck fear into your heart. On the contrary, you have quite the erotic fascination with his art as he calls it in the letters he leaves behind. There’s something about what he does that taps into a fetish for danger that you dare not tell another living soul about. You want to play with fire, scorch the tips of your fingers in his flames. That’s how you ended up here, straddling the lap of a man who claims to be the killer your sick little heart yearns for. 

You met at a club. The kind where people go to indulge their wildest fantasies, no matter how depraved. You were wandering around alone in a tight latex mini dress that fit the richness of your curves like a glove. You had your hair pinned up the way you do now, waterfalls of curls spilling down to frame your face. Expertly applied black lipstick adorned your kissable lips, drawing men in enough that they’d lose their minds thinking of all the things that pretty mouth could do. The man beneath you was among them. 

He spotted you from across the room, your figure bathed in red neon light as you sat at the bar plotting your next move. You let him buy you a few drinks, loosening you both up enough that secrets began to spill as freely as the vodka in your glass. “I wanna know if I tell you a secret, will you keep it?” the dark haired man whispered in your ear, a hand hovering dangerously close to your inner thigh. You swore that you would, hand over your heart. And that’s when he confessed. Your clear fascination with the man known as the Seoul Slasher had prompted him to reveal himself to you. 

You couldn’t believe it. A real live serial killer, an absolute monster, so hypnotized by you he was nearly drooling down your cleavage. Going against every self preservation tactic they taught you in school, you invited him back to your place for a bit of fun. An offer he excitedly accepted. For a man whose entire modus operandi is control, he was more than happy to relinquish it to you. In no time you had him spread out on your bed, arms and legs handcuffed to the bed frame. 

The entire room’s dark save for the flickering wicks of a few candles sprinkled about the room. You run a hand down his bare chest, sharp nails nicking at his tattooed flesh. He hisses at the sting, grinding his hips up against your core to add some pleasure to the pain.

You let out a giggle, fingers teasing the waist of his pants, “Tell me how you did it.” You flash your doe eyes, tightening your plush thighs around his hips. 

“How’d I do what?” he asks, far too preoccupied with your body to hone in on your words. 

“Those last two guys you killed. I wanna know every gory detail. You can tell me while I ride your cock.”

Your words certainly aren’t falling on deaf ears. He heard you loud and clear. He takes a calculated pause before providing you with a less than satisfying answer. “I used a butcher knife. Chopped them up real easy. Some of my best work I’d say.”

“Oh” you pout, shoulders dropping. You fold your arms across your chest, your disappointment hanging heavy in the air. “You really shouldn’t lie, you know? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Lie?” he scoffs, a nervous smile creeping across his face. His deception has failed and he doesn’t have enough brain cells to save this sinking ship. “I’m not lying, babe. I’m telling you. I used a butcher knife.”

You point an accusatory finger at him, applying pressure right between his eyes. “Dirty, dirty, liar” you sing, “You aren’t the Seoul Slasher.”

“And how would you know?” he asks, unjustly offended at the fact that you aren’t stupid enough to buy his bullshit. 

You lean in close, the warm flames of the candles reflecting in your eyes like hellfire. “Because I’m already fucking him and he’s not too happy about you going around pretending to be him. It’s just bad manners.” 

His smile grows more strained, his nervous laughter tickling the tip of your nose. He can’t tell if you’re serious or not but this is getting a little weird. Even for him. You watch him for a moment before erupting in soft, sweet laughter that mocks him. Reaching underneath your pillow you pull out a gag and shove it right into his mouth, shutting him up for the first time tonight. 

“Baby, I’m done playing now!” you call out like a housewife announcing that dinner’s ready. 

You sit back up, climbing off of him, and skip your way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. You hop up, feet giddily swinging back and forth to the tune of heavy footsteps descending the hallway. The man’s eyes dart over to the closed bedroom door, his heart thumping out of his chest. You can make out a few muffled protests but you dare not take it out. There’s nothing he can say that interests you now. Not that it ever did. 

When your best friend first told you that a guy at the club was going around claiming to be the Slasher, you couldn’t believe your ears. Especially not when the real one was sleeping peacefully beside you. Further investigation proved that your best friend had been telling the truth so he had to be dealt with. Then another popped up and another. This one will make for the 4th and you must admit, as annoying as identity theft is for your boyfriend, you get a kick out of luring them here. 

They always start out so cocky but once the gag’s in and those footsteps come, getting closer and closer at an agonizing pace, they’re not so confident anymore. At first they freeze up just like the corpse they’re soon to be. The shock does need a few seconds to set in. And then they panic, screaming through the gag and tugging at their bindings, their bodies writhing like a fish out of water. This one’s no different than the others. You can guess his next move like a film you’ve watched a dozen times and all of it’s in vain. 

Sweat slicks his brow as the door creaks open and your face lights up like the Fourth of July. You breathe a sigh of relief. There he is. You’ve only been apart for hours but it feels like an eternity. A tall figure steps out of the shadows into the candlelight, revealing a handsome man in tailored black pants and a black button up you pressed yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, tucked just below the elbow where a pair of long black latex gloves begin. He spares the unfortunate soul strapped to the bed a passing glance before approaching you. He leans forward, palms flat on the dresser, caging you in. 

“Did I do okay?” you question innocently, always hungry for the praise he never fails to feed you. 

Yunho nods, gloved fingers stroking your soft cheek, “Oh, my good girl. You did more than okay. What would I do without you?”

Taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your head up, capturing your lips in a kiss that would soak your panties if you were wearing any. He takes a deep breath as he pulls away, not wanting to but knowing that time is of the essence.

“Did he touch you?” Yunho’s jaw tenses, gloved hands flexing to warm up for the night’s events. 

You peek around him to check in on the dark haired man. His face is wet with tears and he’s sobbing all over your new gag. You pray he hasn’t pissed himself. You’re not in the mood to have to buy a new mattress again.

You look back to your boyfriend and nod. “In the car he put his hand on my thigh.” 

“Thank you for telling me, baby,” Yunho says, kissing you on the forehead. He turns around, eyes darkening as he approaches the foot of the bed. “I’ll start with his hands.” 

Kneeling down, he slides a large case from underneath the bed and pops it open to reveal his tools. The spread is a pristine assortment of autopsy tools, not a lowly butcher knife in sight. He delicately runs his fingers over them, settling on the fine toothed bone saw. Your gaze never leaves him as he rounds the bed, aligning the sharp teeth of the saw with what you’ve come to know as the ulna. The bone right on his inner forearm. 

Yunho grinds the saw against it and the man’s arm tears open, tattered pieces of flesh splintering off to the side as he carves his way through tough tendons. Blood gushes from the man’s arm, drenching the brand new sheets in a river of crimson. Yunho’s movements are precise and purposeful. The saw taps bone as the body below him convulses violently, the pain beyond anything you can imagine or ever care to. 

Your boyfriend pauses, glancing over at you, and you know it’s about that time. You open one of the drawers beside you, fishing out your phone and a pair of over ear headphones. You sync them up, hitting play on your favorite song, and smile lovingly back at him.

He can’t be as brutal when he knows you’re listening. It’s one of few things about his profession he’s never quite been able to bring himself to expose you to. Even with the man’s cries muffled, being dismantled brings sounds out of someone that could give the most vile person nightmares. You can watch all you want but you won’t hear them.

It’d be easy to say that you weren’t like this before you met him. You were a sweet, delicate flower and this charming psychopath came along, corrupting your young soul. But a girl doesn’t get wet watching her boyfriend dismember people because she had her purity corrupted.

You were never innocent, you’d simply presented yourself as such. Yunho just freed you from the prison of feeling guilty about what got you off. Power. Not being at the mercy of anyone. Yunho treats you like a princess. You’re never left wanting for anything. Your every desire is satisfied. So what if your Prince Charming comes with a body count? Nobody’s perfect. 

Yunho makes quick work of the body. After the slice to his second arm the man’s already at death’s door and the severing of his knees puts the final nail in the coffin. Yunho tosses the body parts to the ground like the limbs of an old doll. Breathless and blood soaked as he licks splatters of scarlet from his lip, he goes in for another cut.

You’re the only other thing he looks at like he does his work. The excitement of the kill is borderline orgasmic, dopamine coursing through his veins with every gruesome cut. Once he starts he has to keep going, chasing his high until it’s finished and the body’s nothing more than scattered pieces of an impossible puzzle. 

Shoving the torso to the floor, he steps back to catch his breath, waving to get your attention. You slip your headphones off, setting them down to navigate the landmine of limbs and entrails to reach your love. 

“You need some water, Yunie?” you ask, throwing your arms around him. The blood weighing down his clothes sticks to your arms, cool against your skin. It used to feel a bit strange but after a few times you’ve come to find it refreshing like a cool shower on a hot day. 

Yunho shakes his head, a dazed look in his eyes. Usually the adrenaline begins to die down after that final cut but it’s only getting more intense. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he salivates over you like a man on the brink of starvation. “No, I need you. Right now.” 

His lips crash into yours at a thousand miles per hour and you don’t even attempt to stop him. Why would you? Bloody gloves cling to your dress, stripping you of the material. You rip his shirt open, sending buttons raining down onto the slippery hardwood floor. Yunho’s hands ravenously explore your body as you rid him of his pants, painting your plush figure in blood like a canvas. 

Attempting to feast upon your body through gloves is as close to torture as he’s ever come so he tears them off, groaning in delight as his bare hands sink into your pillowy ass. He picks you up, tossing you back on the bed, your breasts bouncing marvelously as you land.

You grin watching your boyfriend stare down at you like an absolute animal. His body’s everything dreams are made of, his flawless, rigid cock already leaking in anticipation. You spread your thighs, teasing him with the arousal dripping from your entrance. Bringing two fingers between your legs, you stroke them between your lips, spreading yourself open for him.

“You want it?” you moan, back arching as you pinch your sensitive clit. 

Yunho positions himself between your legs, palming his cock above a pussy that’s clenching wildly at the ghost of what could be. He places a hand on your thigh, admiring the view. You in a sea of blood toying with yourself for his pleasure. What a sight to behold.

“You aren’t teasing me are you?” he asks, gripping your thigh tighter. His voice is low and rough, feral in every way. 

You bring your slick fingers up to the head of his cock, coating it on your juices. “And what if I am?”

You motion to get up, your brain set on tasting his cock on your tongue, but Yunho’s quicker than you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms over your head. His free hand wraps around your neck, the veins of his arms pulsing as he applies the right amount of pressure to leave you breathless but not in pain. 

“Do you want it?” He bumps his cock against your slit, missing on purpose to drag it between your folds. Your body shudders as much as it can with his full weight on you. 

“Mmhmm” you hum, knowing he won’t hurt you but loving that you’re completely at his mercy. 

“You know that’s not enough, baby” he smiles, squeezing your throat tighter, “I need to hear it, princess. Tell me you want it. Beg for daddy’s cock.”

He presses his throbbing tip to your entrance but this time he arches into you, giving you the head and nothing more. The stretch of that alone is disorienting, a wave of heat rushing through you. Releasing his hold on  your throat, he brings his lips to yours, parting them to taste the desperate pleas that spill out. 

“I want you to fuck me, Yunie. I’m so needy for your cock. I have been all night” you whine and his tongue traces your lips. You taste delicious. He inches into you, feeding you a little more then stopping. A little more then stopping. And your body jumps with every motion, pitiful sounds pouring from your lips onto his. 

“Fuck me” you beg, an undeniable brokeness in your tone, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck…” Your voice trails off, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out. He lifts off of you, still holding your arms in place above your head, and thrusts into you ever so gently. You clamp down around him tightly enough that it’s hard to move, your pussy's too needy to let go. 

Yunho grins, cupping one of your breasts, “I didn’t know watching me kill got you so hot. You’re sick, you know that?” He pinches your nipple harshly and you squeal, twisting in his hold. 

“I know” you moan, blowing him a kiss, “But so are you.”

“Fuck, I love you” he growls, pulling you under with another dizzying kiss.

His thrusts grow harsher, your warm, spongy walls drawing him in impossibly deeper. His fingers knead the tender flesh of your breast as he brings his tongue down to soak your bud in equal parts blood and spit. Taking the bud between his teeth, he wraps his lip around it, suckling at it without losing his rhythm between your legs. 

“Yunie. So good. So, mmph, aah…” you’re moaning but he gives one particularly hard thrust to your cunt, knocking the words right out of your mouth. 

You want to touch him so badly. To dig your nails into his back while he fucks into you. To run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the deep brown strands as his tongue swirls around your bud.

“Touch” you pout, wiggling your hands. 

Yunho pops your bud free of his lips, licking his way up your breasts, across your heated skin, along your neck, until you’re eye to eye. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna touch you. Please, daddy” you plead. You’re so helpless. So beautiful.

Yunho watches you squirm, feigning indecision. After an agonizingly long contemplation, he turns your arms loose, the redness on your wrists marking where he held you. Your hands are drawn to him like magnets, scouring every inch of him they can reach just to feel him.

Your nails find his back, digging into the flesh. Yunho buries his face in your neck, moaning at the sensation. “Harder” he whispers, fingers knotting in the sheets beneath you. You dig your nails in deeper, breaking skin, and he’s on the edge of a whimper, the sensation nearly too much for him. 

Slipping an arm around your back, he keeps you flush against him, sinking into you over and over. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed closed. You’re saying something but nothing’s coming out. Only whines and moans, the occasional fractured piece of his name.

There’s no bracing yourself for a cock this long and thick. You just have to take it, let it destroy every bit of you until there’s nothing left. A sense of euphoria surges through you and your legs instinctively lock around his waist. 

“That’s it” he coos, fawning over the string of hickeys he’s left on your neck, “Be a good girl and cum for me.” Yunho grabs for your wrists one last time, locking them above your head. He pounds into you so hard the bed creaks, maybe even moves a few inches. “I wanna feel you gushing around this cock.”

Suddenly your breath hitches and your body feels weightless. It’s as if you’re floating above yourself. Watching this gorgeous man fuck you into the mattress like his own personal whore. And you are. You’re more than happy to be. Your senses come back to you in a rush of ecstasy and you’re trembling, crying out as you do exactly as he said. Creaming, gushing, dripping down his length. 

Yunho pulls back, kneeling between your legs to drag his cock out and glide it back in. He goes all starry eyed at the sight of his cock glistening in your cum and soon he’s spilling inside of you. Your needy walls milking his cock of the warm, white liquid that overflows from your delicious pussy.

His hand comes down on your plush belly, enjoying its softness as he feeds you those last few strokes. You’re still moaning weakly when he finishes, laying back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. 

Curled up safe and warm in his arms, you bask in the afterglow, thoughts of the man your boyfriend dismantled little more than a distant thought now. But ultimately it’s difficult to ignore. Especially when your eyes drift up and you notice something dangling in the corner of your eye. 

“Yunie” you say, lightly petting his shoulder. 

Yunho strokes your hair, looking down at you lovingly, “Yes, baby?”

“I think his hand’s still attached to the handcuff.”

[whatifitis]

♡ for the better - OP 81 ♡

Summary: for the first time in your life, you were happy. you were loved. and now the person who loves you, may grow to resent you.

WC: 3318

CW: fluff, angst, spiraling a bit, not proofread

It started off as just being friends. A group of you were brought together by an interest you all had in common. But you two had managed to grow a special connection over the course of a month. It started as just a silent adventure between the two of you. Taking a walk together in the park, not talking, just enjoying the comfortable silence. Each walk in the park, he began to grow more comfortable and confident around you. He started picking flowers each walk, to tuck into your hair. He started to ask you more questions, to get to know you. 

One day, he stopped to look at you and said “Do you wanna go out?” with a shy smile.

You smiled brightly at him “Yeah, I'd love to.”

Your first date was something you’d never experienced. No one had ever put so much effort into you. He had set up a little picnic at the park you two frequented. There was a light green (your favorite color), checkered blanket on the ground. A top the blanket sat a picnic basket, packed with your favorite snacks, 2 painting canvases, paint brushes and some paints. To say you were overwhelmed would be an understatement. His simple actions meant so much to you. You never thought someone would be able to care for you as he did. 

He knelt down onto the blanket and reached out a hand, inviting you to sit by him. You took his hand and sat across from him. 

“This is so incredibly sweet. You didn’t have to go all out, I mean, it’s just me. It’s not like the Queen is coming… right?” you’d asked with a giggle.

He gave you a toothy grin and said “No, no, the Queen isn't coming. This is all for you. I tried to think of the best thing to do for a first date with you. You’re so amazing, I didn’t want to disappoint.”

“You could never disappoint me.” 

With that, you two began to eat the contents of the picnic basket. Both of you laughed and smiled, talking about the craziest things. One question that got you two riled up a bit was whether sprinkles were a seasoning. Who would’ve thought two people could debate for so long on the subject. But you had fun. 

Once the two of you had finished eating, you and Oscar began to paint each other. As you guys painted, loving glances were exchanged between you two. 

When you two had both finished painting, you took turns showing each other your works. 

“Alright,” Oscar started “Countdown from 3 and I’ll show you the masterpiece that I’ve just created, alright?”

“Alright, ready? 3, 2, ,1….” 

You burst out laughing at the sight of what you’ve been shown.

Oscar furrows his brows but can’t hide his smile “What? What’s so funny? It’s good!” he insists.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” you try to say through your laughing fit “but that’s so bad. I mean, what happened to my eyes? They look wonky, they’re 2 completely different sizes.”

“Well excuse me, Misses I have an art degree so I can tell people their blood, sweat and tears result in absolute shit.” he laughs with you.

“Come on, let’s see your supposed “masterpiece” now.” Oscar said.

You turn your canvas around and smile brightly at him. 

He’s stunned. He’s speechless. He’s ashamed of his painting of you. 

“Love, I- HOLY SHIT! This is amazing, baby! Oh my god we have to hang it up somewhere. My house, your house, a museum, the Met, THE LOUVRE.”

You’re laughing again, wiping the tears from your face. 

“It’s just a painting Oscar, it’s alright, no need to hang it anywhere. Especially not a museum darling.”

“Wrong. I’m keeping this and hanging it up at home.”

“Whatever you want, my love” you said, smiling fondly at him.

-=+=- 

One day, you and Oscar are chilling in the park. Oscar laying back on his arms while you lay your head across his stomach. The two of you sit, making idle conversation with each other for a few hours. 

“Y/n?” Oscar says, looking down at you. 

“Oscar?”

“I don’t want to lose you. I hope this never ends. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

You sit up to look him in the eyes properly.

“What’s going on? Why are you saying this?”

“I’m just in my feelings. But I’m serious, I love you Y/n. I love this feeling I get when I’m with you. I don’t know the word for it, or if there even is a word for it. But I know I always want to feel this way. You mean more to me than life, darling.” 

Your nose feels fuzzy, tears are forming in your eyes. You grab his hand and squeeze it three times. 

You give him a smile, “I love you, Oscar. You don’t know what you mean to me. Everything you’ve done for me, it means so fucking much. If I ever lose you, I don’t think I’d be able to live. Thank you, my love.” 

You two share a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, but at the same time, it feels urgent. You feel like you can’t stop, like you can’t let go, cause if you do, it’ll slip away. But you don’t, and you won’t. You’ll hold onto each other until your last dying breaths. Possibly even past death, you’ll have each other. 

-=+=-

“Has anyone seen Oscar?” You ask for what feels like the millionth time. 

Oscar has been missing for half an hour and no one can find him. He’s meant to be on the track in 15 minutes but he’s not answering his phone. 

You’ve been running around the paddock like a maniac, calling out his name. You don't have long til all the drivers are meant to be out on the paddock for the national anthem. 

You’re sprinting down the halls when something catches her eye. You stop and look to see a figure pacing back and forth in a dark corner. You know exactly who it is. 

You begin walking towards Oscar and stop 4 feet away from him. He’s too in his head to notice anyone is near him, so he keeps pacing with his head down. You walk to him, and grab both his hands in yours. You press your intertwined hands into his chest to try and ground him. 

Oscar is startled at first but once he sees it’s you, his face falls and he lets go of the tears he’s been holding. 

You immediately pull him into your arms, wrapping them around his neck and scratching the back of his neck softly. His arms wrap around your face and he nuzzles his face into your neck. You let him cry it out for a minute before speaking.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

He sniffles as he says “Panic attack I think.”

“Do you know what brought this on?”

“I think I’m just tired. We’ve been working for so long, going from place to place every week. I just don’t think I’m performing as well as I should be. I’m not as put together and the fans have noticed. I hate letting them down and I just don’t know how to fix everything.”

“Baby,” you say as you grab the side of his face gently, wiping away some of his tears “The fans understand. You said it yourself, you guys have been put through the ringer as of late, especially with all the crazy regulations the FIA created. They know this and understand if you’re not as aggressive and calm as usual. You need to stop putting yourself down like this, love. Things happen, so we just have to manage.” 

“I know, but it’s hard. A lot of them travel from so far away just to see these races. They’re buying tickets, booking hotels and flights, just to watch us be the best. All for me to go up there and be a disappointment.”

“Hey, no. You’re not a disappointment, Oscar. You’re anything but that. You’re stubborn, stupid at times, and mental. But you’re not a disappointment. And I love you because of all that, okay?”

“Okay” he says, giving you a shy smile. 

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up and on the track for everyone to see your talents.” 

“Thank you, baby, for everything. I don’t deserve you.” 

“No need to thank me baby. If anyone is undeserving of the other, it’s me. I don’t know what I did to be able to have you in my life.”

With a quick kiss, you two set off to the Mclaren garage to help Oscar freshen up for the race. 

-=+=-

“Darling I told you, I can’t go. I’ve gotta meet Mark and some other guys. We have so much to do before we even think about renewing the contract. I don’t have time for this.” Oscar said whilst putting his shoes on.

“I asked you weeks ago if you could come. And you’d said yes. We’ve had this planned for ages. You can’t just dump our plans.”

“I can if it’s for work. This is something that I can’t ignore. This is my job. The thing I’ve been working towards my whole life. I have to get this stuff done.”

“You’ve been away from home every night for the past month. And you’re telling me you can’t just take one night off? Is that much more important than one night with your girlfriend?”

At this, Oscar stops and his face drops. He didn’t realize how you might have felt, that you’d felt like you came second. He realizes his neglect towards you and your feelings. He walks to you and holds your hands in his. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been treating you like shit, not taking into account how you feel. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll call Mark and cancel.” 

“No, Oscar. It’s okay. Go to the meeting.” you say softly. 

“No, no. we’re gonna do what we planned.” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket while simultaneously taking his shoes off. 

“Baby, you don’t have to. I was just a little upset. I’m okay now, you can go.”

“No, go get ready. I’ll call Mark, then we can go out like we planned.” he smiles at you, trying to make you feel better. 

“Are you sure? I’m fine with postponing. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, you were hurt. We’re going, end of discussion.” he said as he kissed your head. 

That night, the two of you went out as you’d planned. You went and had lunch at a new restaurant you had been raving about to Oscar. He was happy to take you and was pleasantly surprised when the food turned out to be the best he’s ever had (of course not as good as your cooking). 

After lunch, the two of you took a walk in the park. You and Oscar walked hand in hand for ages. Enjoying the quiet breeze and the warming sun. During your walk, you two had discussed the origin of the argument that took place earlier and worked your way through it. With some compromising, you two felt better about the result of said argument. 

After your afternoon walk, you and Oscar headed home where he showed you exactly how sorry he was. And he didn’t use just his words. 

-=+=-

He’d been planning this for ages. Tonight was the night he’d ask to be yours forever. He’s been in love with you for ages. He can’t think of a better time to do this. 

“Baby? You ready to go?” Oscar asked you from the front door. 

“One second darling. I can’t get this shoe on.” 

“Do you need help?”

“No baby, I got it.” you said as you walked up to him. He’s never seen something so beautiful. You’re standing there in your favorite dress, some pieces of jewelry and a simple pair of heels. 

Oscar holds his hand out to you, and you immediately grab it, kissing him before walking out the door with him right behind you. 

-=+=- 

The two of you enjoy a nice dinner at a restaurant you and Oscar frequented. It was so nice to get out of the house and spend some time with Oscar. You’ve missed him a lot since he’s been away for work, but it’s what he loves to do. And you love seeing him happy. 

After dinner, the two of you take a walk in your favorite park. Walking, hand in hand, you ask Oscar “What do you think the meaning of life is?”

“42” he says laughing to himself.

“I’m being serious,” you laugh with him “what do you think it is?”

“I think it’s whatever you want it to be. It can be to find the end of space. It can be to find out where the megalodon went. It can be about finding the love of your life, your soulmate…. speaking of which.”

He stops where he is, moving to stand face to face with you and grabbing both your hands in his. 

oh shit

“Y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I’m not gonna lie and say it was love at first sight cause, ya know, that’s kind of crazy. But I will tell you that the second I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by you. And I was really hoping you weren’t in love with someone else, hoping you didn’t have someone waiting on you. Since the day we met, there was never a day where I didn’t think about you. I love you Y/n, so fucking much.”

He gets down on one knee while pulling a box from his pants pocket. He holds the box in both hands, presenting it to you and opening it. Inside was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. He knew you weren’t a fan of traditional engagement rings that had a huge stone on the top. He knew you loved the rings that looked as if they were created in a magical land, far far away, crafted by the most powerful jewelers of the land. 

“Y/n L/n, will you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband?”

You stood there motionless with your hands covering your mouth that had been hanging open since he began his speech. Tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t believe it. He actually want to marry you? He loves you that much? How did you get so lucky to find your person?

“Are you sure? Like really sure?” you’d said.

“Yes I’m really sure darling. You are the love of my life. I want to spend forever with you.” 

Tears are streaming down his face too. The anticipation is killing him. 

“Yes. Yes, I want to marry you too.” you finally say.

“Oh my god! I love you so much darling, thank you so much.” he said as he began to stand up. 

Once he was standing straight up, he pulled the ring out of the box and put it in your ring finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you impossibly closer. Neither of you stopped or let go for ages. You guys were it for each other. There would never be anyone else. 

-=+=-

it’s for the better 

i know it’s for the better

it’s for the better

You were pacing the living room that you shared with Oscar. Your bags were already packed and in the car. 

You couldn’t let Oscar go through with this. You couldn’t let him do this to himself. He deserves to marry someone better. Better than you. You love him so much, but you weren’t enough for him. You didn’t want to bring Oscar down with you.

You continued pacing the living room, waiting for him to come back home. You feel so sick like you could throw up. Your heart is racing and your hands are shaking. You didn’t want to let him go, but it would be selfish to hold onto him, when he could do a lot better than you. 

The sound of the front door caught your attention. Oscar was home. You stood there in the middle of the living room, fighting your hands.

“Darling, I’m home.” he’d called out from the front entrance.

He walked into the living room to see you standing there, pain and sadness written all over your face. 

“Hey darling, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he said as he walked to you. 

“We need to talk.”

“Alright, what’s going on?”

You took a moment, trying to find the strength to say it. 

“We- need to break up.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“No, I just think it will be best for the both of us.” 

“You’re confusing me darling, what do you mean “better for the both of us?”’

“I mean, you deserve something better. Someone better. I can’t be that for you. I can’t give you everything you deserve. I love you too much to hold you back. So I’m letting you go. I’ve already got everything packed, I’ll be going.”

“What? No. No, we’re not breaking up. Y/n, I love you. I don’t want to lose you. You’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. You’re what’s best for me. You’re what I want. You give me everything I could ever need or want. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

A tear slips loose and runs down your cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Oscar. But I have to let you go. You’ll be miserable if you stay with me. I need you to be happy, even if it’s without me. I’ll always be there to support you for everything. I just can’t be the one right next to you, with you. I won’t let you do this to yourself. Goodbye, Oscar.”

You begin to walk out the door as Oscar starts to plead, asking you to stay. 

“Y/n, please don’t go. If you need some space and time to think then I’ll give that to you. You can stay here and I’ll stay with Lando or something. We can get through this, darling.”

You kept walking out the door, towards your car. Oscar was running after you. As you began to get into the car, Oscar ran up to the window to try and convince you to stop.

“Baby, please talk to me.”

He’s crying now. Tears upon tears were streaming down his face. He was begging you.

“Baby, please. If it was something that I said or did then I’ll fix it. I promise, I’ll fix everything. Just please don’t go. I need you.”

“Oscar, please let go.” you say weakly. “You have to let me go.”

“No. I won’t. I don’t want to live without you. I can’t live without you. Please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry”

And with that, you put the car in drive and made your way out of the driveway of your once shared home. You didn’t have the strength to look in the rear view mirror. You didn’t have the strength to see him. 

-=+=-

Once you got to the hotel room you had booked for the week, you dropped your bags and just started sobbing. You can’t believe you let him go. You already regret it but he does deserve better. So much better than you. He’ll find someone. You know it. 

You can wish all you want, but it won’t bring you two together. 

All you can do is repeat the same things over and over, trying to convince yourself that…

it’s for the better

it’s for the better

it’s for the

for the better

i know it’s for the better

know for it’s the better

for the better

the better.

[churipu]

WHAT REMINDS THEM OF YOU 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro, itadori yuuji

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just pure fluff :D

note. i was going to write some hurt comfort — but then i figured that i wanted to keep myself sane for today :>

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

anything strawberry. scent, taste — anything strawberry.

gojo remembered when the first time he brought you home some honeoye strawberries after a mission since it was in season. the way your eyes just lit up at the sight of strawberries made him happy, and from then on — gojo looks at a picture of a strawberry or even smelled strawberry from god knows where.

he just thinks of you.

one time gojo saw a rabbit eating a strawberry while scrolling through his social media, and he wasted no time sending the video to you with a small message: "you <33"

or the other time gojo sees a bucket cap with strawberry motives and he just had to get it for you. the male waited in line for half an hour for that hat (and he had to "fight" a kid for it, he won in the end because the kid moved on to a duck motive hat instead).

"baby, look what i got you — strawberry scented bath bomb. it was the last one on stock, and i had to argue with a lady over it," he happily bursts through the door, boasting while raising what seemed to be a bath bomb.

gojo just knows when you change your usual brand of strawberry lip balm. it took him a peck and he asks you, "did you change your brand? this one tastes weird," he wipes his lips.

"they were out of stock, 'toru."

"why didn't you say so?" he cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose, "i'd go to the other side of the earth to get you one, y'know?"

you chuckled, "or, i could just wait for it to stock back . . ."

"nonsense!"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

the smiths.

he finds it amusing when you start quoting that one scene from 500 days of summer, "i love the smiths . . ." and he just unexpectedly replied with, "sorry?"

but that time — he didn't know that he was "unknowingly" going along with it. confused, he had to question you about it, and when you told him it was from a movie. megumi finally understood and thought that maybe you really liked the movie.

he was wrong. it wasn't the movie, it was the smiths. so now, every time he sees anything or hears anything about the band, he finds himself thinking about you — but he'd never actually say that. megumi often listens to their songs just so he could understand when you talked to him about it.

also, quoting the movie was now a habit for you two. you just go, "i love the smiths," out of the blue and megumi will continue it (even if he says that it's pretty corny).

megumi loves it when you listen to the smiths out loud, singing softly to the tune. the male tries really hard to get you unofficial merchandise, official merchandise for the smiths are actually so hard to find today — so he just had to go and make it custom for you.

"and when the double decker bus, crashes into us . . ." he heard you sing, both of your ears jammed with earbuds from the earphones, "to die by your side."

that, was your favorite song. and megumi made it into a custom painting of you and him as if the two of you were in that one scene in 500 days of summer. i'm not kidding.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

mochi skin. the texture, the flesh. it just reminded him of your cheeks — it's so squishy and soft. every single time he buys a mochi, he makes sure to do something that he calls a squish test.

where he squishes the mochi, and then squishes your cheeks. if they don't feel the same, yuuji gets rid of the mochi and gets another one (he eats them).

"it doesn't feel the same y/n, i don't like it," he whines out softly, tossing the mochi into his mouth — he angrily takes out another bill of cash to buy another mochi.

"yuuji, why does it have to be the same again?" you asked him, hands inside your pockets.

"because . . ." good point. why?

the male prompts to ignore you and buy another one (three others) to make sure they are the same texture as your cheeks. it's something he does — if a mochi he buys doesn't feel the same way like your cheeks does.

he eats them or lets you have them.

if it does.

he also eats them or lets you have them.

it's just something he does for fun, so he could always remember you. and when you're not there with him — yuuji makes sure to buy at least five before coming over to visit you so he could do the test.

when he's not feeling like it but he misses you, he takes a video and sends it to you with a caption: "i miss you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE