#If you couldn’t tell there’s some hidden messages here

[kkolg]

Family Photo

How Unfortunate

Plain renders/Close ups Under⬇️

Plain renders

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Close Ups

[kyuujo]

↳ check yes or no

↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ influencer!reader, established relationship, hidden(ish) relationship, going public, language, fluff + crack(?), jealous!sae, kissing on livestream, slight possessiveness, shat outta my ass ngl, my writing

↳ 1.3k words

↳ i’m sorry sae has me in a chokehold (i love it harder pls) and this little brain bug just randomly slid into my skull sooooo here it is! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy dahlings! <3

(y/u/n)fan1998: welcome back lovely!

switterz: good to see you again! hope ur feeling better!

emi44578: i missed you so much!

a smile pulled at your lips and your chest warmed at the multitude of messages flooding your livestream. your throat was still a little sore, but thankfully your stomach had stopped rolling the day prior, and you’d been fever free for twenty-four hours. you didn’t feel completely better, but you felt well enough to at least start a small stream.

“aw, thank you guys so much.” you croaked, voice slightly groggy and thick. “i’m feeling a bit better, but as you can probably hear, i’m not outta the woods yet.”

once more, messages flooded your screen, so fast that you could hardly catch more than a mere glimpse of one before it was pushed up by another. your fans seemed to be extremely pleased by your online appearance, and it made you so happy despite the sickness still weighing down your body.

you hated having to take time off, especially unexpectedly.

the chat slowed to a comfortable trickle as you dived into the events of the past week, starting off with how you even got sick in the first place. you had to tweak the truth a bit — after all, you couldn’t exactly tell your audience that you’d caught a cold by attending your boyfriend’s game alongside a snotty, congested child.

“… this kid was sneezing all over the place, and the mother didn’t even care to wipe his nose or the things he sneezed on. it was so gross.” you complained, receiving a fair share of agreements and sympathies from your viewers.

it was as you were berating the mothering skills of a complete stranger when something familiar caught your eye. a username followed by a simple message, one you’d seen time and time again.

(y/n)husband1: (y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no

you forced out a small laugh and shook your head as you addressed the message. your skin felt tight suddenly, that username always putting you off just slightly.

“i’m afraid i’m going to have to check ‘no.’ i’m in a very happy relationship.” the same answer you gave every time.

there was a flurry of comments again, some berating the user who had even typed a message like that and others calling out cap on your statement. you were fairly used to that; you’d never even shown sae on camera before, so your relationship was as good as hearsay to your viewers.

“okay, let’s just calm down.” you chipped out, barely suppressing a cough that threatened to rip through your throat. “i’ll need to take some more medicine soon, so i don’t have very long. let’s do some q and a before i go.”

thirty minutes later and over two dozen questions answered, you finally said goodbye to your viewers and clicked off the livestream. your shoulders sagged with relief instantly, and you let out a small sigh.

“how’d it go?”

you startled at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts. sae’s voice was a smooth, seemingly uninterested rumble. you calmed your racing heart and hummed as you stood from your chair, raising your arms up to stretch out your stiff torso.

“not bad at all. they weren’t mad at me, at least.”

sae rolled his eyes as you ambled to his side, his arm immediately sliding around your hip as he guided you to the sitting quarters.

“so what if they were? the feelings and thoughts of insignificant strangers aren’t important.”

you clapped your palm over his chest gently and shushed him. sae was always blunt like this; but his words did remind you of something.

“oh. that reminds me. (y/n)husband1 struck again.”

you know you didn’t imagine the way sae’s fingers tightened on your hip. was it wrong that you took some pleasure in that? maybe.

“what did they say this time?” sae murmured a bit tightly.

you huffed and rolled your eyes. “the same thing they always say. ‘(y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no.’”

“it’s incredible they don’t already have a girlfriend, what with that irresistible smooth talk.” sae quipped, pulling a giggle from your throat. you shook your head and wrapped your arm around his rib cage, stumbling slightly from the awkward position.

“let’s just go find a movie, baby.” you suggested, your statement quickly garnering sae’s agreement. cuddles late into the night were always your favorite; and you had a feeling they were sae’s too.

three days later, you were completely recovered and back to your usual streaming schedule. your viewers were quite happy with the development, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing.

well, except for the occasional whirlpool conjured by the appearance of (y/n)husband1. they seemed to strike when you least expected it, and always with the same stupid question — the same stupid question that earned the same stern answer.

even your viewers seemed to be becoming irate by it, as they expressed their distaste on multiple occasions.

switterz: why dont u just block them from your streams? they’re annoying!

(y/u/n)fan1998: yea they’re clogging up the chat log all the time! and harassing u!

you wet your lips and said, slightly timidly, “well, technically, they aren’t breaking any rules guys. the best thing to do is simply ignore them, like i do.”

a majority of the chat seemed to disagree, but you weren’t wrong in what you said; though they spammed the same message again and again, they technically weren’t breaking any of the rules you had set in place during your first few streams.

suddenly, as if on the drop of a hat, the chat began to flood with a different topic — one that seemed to have taken over the controversy of (y/n)husband1 entirely.

switterz: SAE FCKIN ITOSHI????

emi44578: why is sae itoshi in ur house?!!?!?????

jackerquack: WTF HELLO SAE

user193949294: DONT TELL ME YOUR BF IS SAE ITOSHI!!!!

usererror404: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE THERES NO WAY

“what—?”

“i have to agree with the chat. you should block them.”

you swiveled around in your chair only to nearly touch noses with sae. your eyes widened and your lips popped open. what the hell was he doing? wasn’t his pr manager the one that insisted his relationship with you stay underwraps? just what was even happening?

there were hundreds of questions you wanted to ask, but in your pure shock you simply could work any past your lips; sae blinked once, then twice, before turning his eyes to the monitor in front of you.

“for those who have been wondering if she’s in a relationship, she is. with me. so no more harassment, or lying accusations.”

your heart was literally racing in your chest, your entire body frozen. sae was acting completely normal, as if he hadn’t just gone against every wish of his pr manager. you didn’t feel scared, per se, but the only emotion you could liken what you felt to was fear.

“demonking12 says they don’t believe it.” sae observed smoothly, eyes skimming down the chat. “and there’s some others who second that…”

you couldn’t even look at your screen — your eyes were glued to sae. how could he be so calm right now?!

sae turned to meet your stare of disbelief, and your stomach rolled when his lips quirked into the smallest, most mischievous smirk you’d ever seen grace his features.

“should we prove it?”

“um, what—?” you couldn’t even finish your blubbering before sae leaned in quickly and captured your lips with his — right in 4k!

the kiss wasn’t messy, or even sultry in nature, but it had your nerves lighting up and your cheeks flaring. sae’s lips were soft, warm, and almost commanding — it lasted a total of three seconds, but it was long enough to have your legs feeling weak.

sae pulled away but left just enough space between the two of you that you could see the sly swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip — as if he were collecting remnants of your taste.

“i’m pretty sure you’ve met your hour stream goal; time to entertain me, now.”

thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! likes, comments and reblogs are by no means required but are so greatly appreciated! <33

[coco-loco-nut]

Revelations - part 2

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: bringing the kids to a gp

A/n: whoooo double drop day! Enjoy!!!!

requests open masterlist part one

——————————————

“You know the drill, stay with me or your dad,” you remind your son and daughter as Daniel parks. Oscar immediately came to visit your home when you got back to Australia, wanting to catch up on the hidden parts of his fellow Aussies lives. The exchange? Free babysitting.

Daniel is such a girl dad, it almost pains you that your daughter likes him more than you, but your son is a mama’s boy so it balances out.

“Florence, keep a tight hold of me,” Daniel says, carrying the four year old on his him. She dozes on his shoulder halfway to the paddock entrance. Your son, Sidney, had a tight grip of your hand. You decided to get here early, before media, so there was a less stressful entrance. Even the video that Red Bull posts of Daniel walking through the paddock blurs out your children’s faces.

“Uncle Maxie,” your daughter stretches her arms out to the Dutchman. He carefully takes her and walks off, chatting away. If it were anyone but Max, you might be concerned.

“Hi Uncle Christian,” Sidney greets his godfather excitedly, the older man equally happy to see his godson. Christian gives you and Daniel the go ahead to walk away and grab breakfast at Hospitality.

“Will you be okay watching them the whole race while being my engineer?” Daniel asks as you both pick at your plates.

“Kelly is going to keep an eye on them, they will be with her in the garage. I think your Mom is coming in for the race tomorrow,” you tell Daniel. You decided to test out their F1 tolerance during FP3 and Qualis instead of just the race.

They do well enough that you feel comfortable with having them in the garage for the race. You do your race engineer work from the garage instead of the pit wall, preferring to be closer with the mechanics and other engineers. Halfway through the race, your mother-in-law carefully hands you a fussy and tired Florence. You let her sit on your lap as you work, holding her close, something that F1TV caught. She notices you talking to her father.

Daniel, overtake is available at the next DRS

Copy, DRS is enabled

Nice overtake, continue to defend. Daddy?

Is that Flo? Tell her I said hi and to let you work.

Copy, focus on your race, please.

Florence is happy to know her dad heard her and quickly falls asleep on your shoulder.

Daniel, box, fresh set of hards are ready for you.

Copy. How are the kids?

Flo is sleeping and Sid is watching with P. Please focus on the race, Danny. Box, box.

Alright Mrs Ricciardo, I see how it is, all business no fun

Someone has to keep you focused, Daniel.

You honestly don’t know how no one had picked up on Daniel’s radio messages to you before your relationship was revealed. He does focus on the race, it’s his job, but every once in a while he does make comments that aren’t racing related. As the last few laps are underway, Florence wakes up from her nap. You point out her dad on one of the screens and decide to surprise him by letting her talk to him.

“Okay Flo, just like I told you,” you gently remove the headphones covering her ears and put the far too big headset on her. Christian is the one who suggested that you do that.

Great race Daddy, P5

Hi Baby Girl, did you help your mama out this race?

I did, just like you told me to.

Good job, I’m so proud of you. Now, let me talk to your mama, she has some special things to tell me. I’ll see you soon sweetheart.

Hey Daniel, great race. Team’s proud of you. Pull in for weigh ins and media. We will have a quick debrief but we are happy with the race.

Copy. Couldn’t have done it without you and the team. Thanks guys.

Kelly and Daniel’s mom entertain the kids while you and Daniel have post-race meetings, but when you get to his drivers room after your last meeting with the engineers, you find him passed out on the couch with your kids sleeping on him. You snap a picture, sending it to one of your Red Bull group chats as well as directly to Max and Oscar.

Social media was loving the radio clips of you and Daniel talking, as well as Florence congratulating her father. Pair that with the videos of her sleeping on your shoulder mid race and every other clip of you and Daniel with the kids, it’s no wonder why your family is trending.

“Dan,” you whisper, gently shaking your husband’s shoulder.

“Hm? Have I been asleep long?” He whispers, trying not to disturb the kids.

“Probably not. Let’s get back to the hotel,” you smile softly, gently picking up Florence so he can get up. He carries Sidney, who is still asleep, while you carry Florence. Thankfully for the both of you, you were ready to leave.

“No more races for them until they are older,” Daniel proposes.

“Unless it’s here, I think I will agree to that,” you nod, brushing hair off of Florence’s head. You realistically know Daniel only has a couple seasons left in him, and that Florence wants to race just like her dad, so it might be better to wait until one of you is available to be with them the whole time. Sidney stirs as you get closer to your car.

“That was fun, when are we going again?”

[hipstergecko]

Waking Up.

Hey so remember that DPxDC prompt I wrote awhile back? I've been writing it! Here's a brand new chunk.

Ghost in a Box: Danny experiences extreme sensory deprivation after getting trapped in a coffin like box his parents invented. His box is opened on the JL watchtower after being found in an underground bunker. Humans can't do sensory deprivation for too long. Apparently neither can Danny.

Original Ghost in a Box prompt here.

----

Black bat was waiting. She was quite good at waiting. Sometimes on a mission you had to be patient. Still and silent. Waiting.

The boy that had come out of the box had been in the intensive care unit for days. He had been dehydrated and was terribly emaciated. He had been starving. How long had he been in the box?

They couldn’t ask him until he woke up. So she had been waiting.

Cass sighed and walked silently down the hall to the ICU. After they had gotten the boy into the medical wing, she’d gotten the whole “that was incredibly dangerous” spiel from her dad Batman. He was proud of her though. She could tell. It spoke through the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. The softness of his hands. Hopefully that softness would be given to the boy from the box.

There had been multiple debriefs and meetings to discuss how to proceed with the boy. The majority of heroes were loath to continue opening boxes. What if they were full of creatures much like the boy? Capable of so much damage and danger. They didn’t even know what he was.

The documents they had uncovered called the boy a ghost. But after checking his vital signs, they found he had a pulse. He had a heart, breath, and blood. He was human.

But he was in the box. So he wasn’t. The members of Justice league dark had been contacted and were due to arrive any day now. They had been on assignment somewhere else. Cass hadn’t bothered to find out where they’d been.

None of that mattered anyway.

What had mattered, truly, was that the boy from the box was afraid. Afraid and unable to communicate. And Cass understood him. He was terrified and desperate. And Cass saw him beyond the horrors.

He was a child and he needed help.

So he was hers now. No matter what anyone else said. She reached out to him first and he was her new brother/son/child. Bruce would have to deal with it.

She had stayed on the watchtower, with Bruce’s blessing, since the box had been opened. She barely left the boy’s side much to Bruce’s chagrin. He was not pleased with the possibility of her being in danger. But Tim had pointed out that she was plenty dangerous herself.

She loved her brothers.

She stayed on the watchtower all the time now. Staying with the boy and only leaving the observation room to shower and eat on her own. The doctors had insisted, gently, that she should take some time to herself after those first few days. So she does. Today she took a hot shower and attended a few meetings to keep up as to what they planned to do with her new brother. She also got to spend some time with Spoiler who had just so happened to be on the watchtower that day (she sent a thank you message to Tim over the family chat).

She looked through the observational window, a frown hidden behind her mask. The boy was hooked up to various machines to monitor his vitals. His eyes were still covered and the headphones were still firmly on his head. He looked so small and frail against the bed linens. There wasn’t much more they could do until the JLD members arrived.

The doctors inside the room were gently cleaning the boy. Running a warm soft wipe down his arms and legs, checking his vital signs, laying a warm blanket over him for comfort. She watched impassively at first, then with intense interest as some of the monitors showed brain activity.

Signs of waking. Her new brother was waking up.

She was the first one in the room when the boy jerked awake with a gasp.

---------

Consciousness.

Discomfort.

Gravity.

The air tastes funny. His arm itches. His legs feel heavy.

Weird.

Danny floated on the edge of wakefulness. Or at least what he thought was consciousness. It was hard to tell anymore. Everything was a cycle of dreaming and waking, or was it dreaming and dreaming? It was hard to find reality. Nothing changed except the hallucinations his mind conjured. And even his mind had started to get things wrong.

He couldn’t trust his memories anymore. He couldn’t remember what life was like. If he saw his mother in the box with him, he couldn’t make out the details of her face. Or His father’s laugh. Or his sister’s hair. Everything was fuzzy. Distant. Faded from his memories.

Did he even have a family? Was that something he made up?

He couldn’t remember.

How long had he been in here? He’d stopped counting the days when his eyes ceased to glow. Recycled ectoplasm was good at sustaining a ghost, but not good at feeding a ghost. And him being only a few years dead, he was still developing powers. Well he would be if he wasn’t essentially being purposefully stunted in this stupid box.

What a stupid box. Can’t even sit up in it. It was more like a coffin than a box. It would figure that he finally got put in a coffin. Specially since he died all the way but not quite once already. How lame. Someone somewhere was probably laughing about this.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah. His eyes stopped glowing. Made it harder to see what was real. He couldn’t see the shadows of his real hands and the lack of them on the images his mind conjured. It was hard to tell the difference. If he could even tell the difference anymore.

He probably couldn’t tell at all anymore really.

He floated beyond consciousness for a moment more, resisting the press upon his mind to wake. Better to sleep. After all, there wasn’t anyone coming to get him. The whispers were silent when he wasn’t in his mind. The voices stopped. The hands didn’t pull at his mouth and eyes. It was the only chance at peace he got.

Something touched him.

Weird.

Wait…

Something, no, someone was touching him. Moving his itchy arm. He felt hands on his legs, moving them under the heaviness.

The hands were touching him.

Danny jolted to full consciousness with a gasp. He violently jerked away from the hands and scrambled back. They’d never moved him before! They’d only tried to! He had always fought them off! They were just hallucinations!! His mind only thought he was being touched!! What happened?! How?! WHY?!

His breath came in larger gasps of air as he spiraled into panic. The hands, glowing and green, decayed and skeletal reached out of the darkness. Whispered words filled his ears, static and chiming all at once. He flailed out at them frantically, touching nothing. He whimpered. They weren’t real they weren’t real they weren’t real.

One of the hands grabbed his arm.

He cried out at the contact. The weak and raspy sound pulling painfully from this throat as he lashed out at the hand and fell back. The ectoplasm felt firm and plush beneath him.

Wait, was that really ectoplasm? Was this real?

Somehow in his retreat, he reached an edge. He slipped.

He fell.

He hit a hard surface and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. He choked on the strange air and grasped blindly around himself. There was no ectoplasm, nothing swishing around him as he moved. He struggled to breathe and reached frantically out to his sides.

There were no walls.

No walls, no ceiling, no swishing stale ectoplasm.

What…

He… he wasn’t in the box.

This couldn’t be real.

He scrambled back along what he felt was the floor until he hit something hard. A wall? He didn’t care. This wasn’t real, but it felt real enough to use as an anchor, so at the wall he stayed.

Danny grasped at his arms. Nails dug into muscle, piercing the skin and drawing ectoplasm. He felt the pain and it grounded him. He was real. He was still real. His breathing was still harsh, the panic still real. The hands still reaching for him weren’t real. The floor and wall weren’t real. He was just trapped in another hallucination.

He just needed to calm down and wait until he came out of it naturally or hurt himself into reality. Either way he would still be in the box.

Abandoned in the box.

He dragged his nails down his arms, leaving behind gashes that wept. He wasn’t concerned though. His ghost form would heal fast enough that it wouldn’t make a difference. All he needed was to stop seeing things that weren’t real. He’d shed enough tears over illusions of his friends and family. Been through enough terrors and memories to doubt his mind. He knew he was in the box. Once he found the box again he could try to go back to sleep.

He’d lost the will to do anything more what felt like a lifetime ago. All he had left to his obsession was protection. Self protection. Survival. Keep his human half alive. By staying a ghost and surviving the horrors of his mind.

It was all he had left.

He ran his hands up his arms to start tearing at his skin again and found… wetness? He hadn’t healed yet? He lifted a hand to his face and licked the wetness on his fingers.

Copper tang. The faintest taste of ectoplasm.

It tasted like… blood?

Danny’s heart stopped in his chest. Wrong. His heart stuttered in his chest and he scrabbled at his neck. He fingers found his pulse.

Oh no.

He had a pulse. He was human again!

The darkness surrounding him was suddenly suffocating, pulling at his breath and stealing his rational thought. He was real, but he was going to die. Humans can’t survive as long as he had without food and water and air! He couldn’t keep control of his ghost form and his human half was going to die! He had to change back or he would fail at doing the only thing he had left!!

He started hyperventilating and desperately grabbed at his ghost core. An immediate searing pain shot through his chest. The sound he made was akin to someone tearing paper and he fell over on his side. He began trembling all over.

That hurt so bad. That hurt so bad.

He couldn’t think. He could breathe but that just brought him closer to death. Tears welled from his eyes and caught on something just beyond his eyelashes, turning the blackness somehow darker. He was going to die and the recycled ecto had failed and he was going to die and the static wouldn’t stop and the hands wouldn’t let him go and he was going to die alone and forgotten he was going to die again nopleasenopleasenotagain-

Something touched his hands.

Danny jerked back and away, nausea surging up his throat. He pushed himself up only to vomit stomach acid. The only thing in his system. It burned as it came and went. His stomach clenched so hard that he curled over on himself. His muscles shook with strain as he hyperventilated. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move…

Something touched him again. A gentle pressure on his back. Warm and soft.

He tensed beyond what he thought he was able. Rigid, but shaking in fear. He had no thoughts beyond the sheer terror of what he thought was unreality becoming reality.

Moments passed. And nothing happened.

The pressure on his back stayed. It did not grasp at him like the hands did. It remained gentle and soft. A warmth. It was different. It was scary.

It felt nice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s breathing calmed. Slowly, he felt things around him. He felt the blood trickling down his arms. The cold floor under his legs. The soft, long shirt on his body didn’t close in the back or reach down past his knees. He was warmer than the floor which was strange, but made sense. He was human again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he turned back human. It was his greatest fear. To turn human in the box and die alone and small in the dark enclosed space.

But he wasn’t dying. He was breathing. The air was fresh. It tasted strange. His hands fluttered along the wounds on his arms. He felt pain and knew it was real. And the pressure on his back felt real.

Did… did someone open the box?

Hope hit him so hard that he began to cry softly. He couldn’t let himself hope, but he couldn’t deny it. Not when this all seemed so real. His crying grew harder. Harsh stuttering breaths that he couldn’t even hear. Which was kind of odd. Why couldn’t he hear himself? Did he still have ears? He slowly reached up and felt where his ears should be. There was something covering them. A hard plastic thing that went up over his head. Slowly his hands moved in front of his face. He found his nose and his mouth. They were still there. Then he touched the places where his eyes should be. He felt cloth.

His eyes and ears were covered?

Another hand touched his own and he jolted. It was as gentle and warm as the other hand. He could finally hear his ragged cries as the hand took his gently and intertwined the fingers. A gentle squeeze had the tears coming hard and fast. From fear or hope? There was no telling. A sheer outpouring of emotion.

Someone had opened the box.

And they were holding his hand.

He desperately hoped this was real.

----------

That's it for now! Honestly I'm just writing snippets of story beats and then stringing them together when the anxiety has quieted. I have an AO3 account now, but I'm still posting everything here first!

Nyeeeh keep an eye out for more I guess.

[heeseungwifey]

It's like a Polaroid... nude?

pairing: IdolJay! x y/n

warning: contains smut!

Jay loved fan mail. Receiving letters about how much someone loves him always strokes his ego, feeling rewarded for his hard job. He’s a total workaholic, both professionally and in his private life. He goes to the gym, eats healthy, rests well. He loves how his fans notice his muscular physique in the comments. 

Letters are usually from young girls, he appreciates the love and support but would never correspond to the romantic aspect of the messages. Often some older girls, his age and a bit younger make advances and he, as a man, feels the urge to meet up with them, signing an NDA just in case. They are groupies that just enjoy the experience but they never leave a big impact on him. 

The whole group goes to the hotel after a concert, exhausted from the busy schedule. Jay sees a group of fans waiting outside, his eyes meeting the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. The girl is standing there with a face mask on and a letter in her hand, she doesn’t seem as excited as the others and Jay gets curious.

The boys get closer to the crowd, signing CDs and receiving fan letters, all normal. Jay, on the other hand, is cautiously looking at this mysterious girl and directly grabs her letter, mouthing a thank you. 

The boys get in the van and some of them open the letters to read out loud, not aware that Jay has only picked up one, hidden inside his jacket waiting to read it at the hotel. He doesn’t know why but his intuition tells him the content of that letter is only for his eyes to see.

It’s midnight and Jay is ready to go to sleep, his pyjamas and skincare are done. He picks up the letter and touches it, feeling like there’s more than a letter, like little pieces of what seems like photographic paper. When he opens the envelope, a bunch of polaroids fall from inside, his curiosity spiking. When he flips them around he sees the girl who gave him the letter, wearing just her bra and red lipstick. it’s a selfie, her beautiful eyes and riqué outfit taking all the attention. The next Polaroid is a shot further away from her face, showing that she’s just wearing her bra and panties, getting Jay’s ears red for such an intimate gift. That’s what he thought until he saw the next one, her tits on full display and just her red lips, such a lewd picture Jay had to stop and read the letter. 

“Dear Jay,

This is me showing my love for you. I noticed you are trying so hard to look hot these days, did you think I wouldn’t notice your muscular tanned arms in those outfits of yours? Your strong legs while dancing and your huge bulge when you sit down? You grow the monster inside of me that wants to fuck you so dumb that you don’t even know the days of the week. To leave you so dry you don’t get with another bitch ever again in your life. To leave you like a puppy waiting for me. I wanted to return the favour for all this hard work and give you a little gift.

Here are some polaroids for your eyes only, for those lonely nights when you need help. I am your whore, just text me and I’ll go anywhere. You got me on my knees.

love and kisses, 

xxx xxx xxx”

Jay couldn’t believe what he just read. Her name wasn’t even on the letter, just her phone number. And a kiss with the red lipstick. Jay picked the other polaroids, realising right there that those left were way worse. A mirror picture fully naked, a close-up of her open legs, her red dripping pussy at the centre of the shot. A picture of her inserting a toy and looking at the camera with her tongue out was his favourite. 

He had to call her. Needed to. His eyes were darting from polaroid to polaroid, his bulge growing bigger and bigger and his thoughts clouding, just flashes of red lips. Jay picks up his phone and calls the number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up, biting his nails and touching his groin mindlessly. 

“Hello?” a sweet voice picks up the phone, which makes Jay wonder if he dialled the wrong number. How could a girl who makes such gifts have a voice this soft?

“Hello! Yeah, I received a letter today and it had someone's phone number, this phone number to be more precise. Is there any chance that the girl who gave me this letter is you?” 

“Jay? Is it you?”

“yeah, it’s me” Jay jumps on his seat, so it is her, the girl with the pretty eyes.

“Oh Jay, did you like my letter? I made it with so much love, I can’t believe you read it” She sounds naughty over the other side of the line, with a sultry voice mixed with innocence. 

“yeah, I did like it… a lot. I was wondering if you were up to meeting today, at my hotel” Jay is unsure this is gonna turn alright, asking with no confidence. 

“Oh really? Do you want me to go?” she sounds happy on the other side of the line, excited to meet her celebrity crush. 

“Yes, I do. I’m at the Palace Hotel, when you get to the front desk ask for room 549. A bodyguard will bring you up here” Jay can’t even believe what he’s doing, being used to meeting with girls he saw at the club and interacted a bit with, no a stranger.

“Okay Jay, I’ll be there in 20 minutes!” she sounded happy and decided like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Jay was tense instantly. Fuck, 20 minutes was too much waiting. He started picking from the floor the clothes and shoes that were scattered all around the room, to give a good impression. Making the bed, tugging the bedsheets and placing the pillows in their place. God, he even took a shower and cut his toenails. He was so desperate to give a good impression to this girl who, being honest, he didn’t have to win. She was already coming to his hotel room to fuck him anyways. 

When Jay was getting unsure she was gonna show up, three light knocks sounded from outside his hotel room. As fast as he could he got up from the bed and walked towards the door, trying to keep his cool. 

When he opened the door he was met with the same eyes he had seen that afternoon, foxy and deep brown. He was speechless, as if he hadn’t been imagining this situation for 20 minutes. 

“Hello Jay! Sorry for being late, couldn’t find a taxi” He opened the door for her, her figure walked inside the room. jay noticed what she was wearing, a long coat and knee-high boots. It was quite an outfit, given that it wasn’t that cold of weather to be in such a wintery outfit. 

“Can I ask for your name…? You didn’t tell me in the letter” Jay closed the door and walked to where she was, sitting in his bed and her purse on the table under the TV. 

“Oh really! how silly… my name is y/n. Sorry, I guess I wasn’t focused when I was writing the letter…” She’s sitting with her legs crossed, subtle movements that Jay catches as she’s rubbing them. She remembers what she wrote in the letter.

How could she forget when in front of her was Jay in a tank top and grey sweatpants, his sexy and toned biceps on sight and his protruding bulge obviously waiting for her. She knew what she had done with that letter and those polaroids, ready to satisfy him as soon as she walked into the room. 

“Oh, nice to meet you, y/n.” Jay gets close to kiss her on the cheek, as a greeting, but she turns her head and kisses him on the mouth instead. Yeah, fuck it, they both know for what they came for. Let’s stop acting dumb. 

Her hands push his head to deepen the kiss,  grabbing a fistful of his hair. Jay is standing right in between her legs as she’s sitting down and he’s standing. When the kiss gets more heated she takes off her boots and stands up on the bed, tongue-tied with him as she takes off her coat, wearing nothing underneath but a lingerie set. Jay can’t believe his eyes as he looks up at that sight. His hands go straight to her ass, groping and massaging it. God, the kiss has gotten him so worked up he needs to take his pants off immediately. 

“Oh baby, does it hurt down there? Do you want me to help you with that?” she says as she grabs his shoulders and gets off the bed, already on her knees by the time Jay gets to moan a yes. 

“Sit down honey, I’m going to put my money where my mouth is” Y/n pulls his pants down and pushes him to sit on the bed, his dick springing out and looking achingly red and precum coming out of it. 

“I knew it, it’s big! Fuck Jay, you don’t have an idea of how many times I have thought about doing this  to you…” She kisses it right on the head  “How many times I’ve fantasised about how it looks…” Another kiss “How it tastes…” she takes it and puts it in her mouth, slightly sucking on it. “Do you like it?’”

Jay can’t even speak, he’s sweating and if he tries to open his mouth he might let a whimper escape. She knows she’s doing a good job by Jay’s reaction so she keeps on going. Saliva all over his dick and her head bobbing as she makes eye contact with him, her hands slightly scratching his thighs. 

“stop… no, no… STOP” Jay grabs her head and stops her, trying really hard not to come because of the popping sound of her mouth leaving his dick. He knows himself and much rather fuck her with the energy he has now than waste it on some blowjob. He needs to fuck her and feel her tight walls around his cock, filling her with his cum. As much as he loves her mouth he knows she’s way better fuck. 

“I don’t wanna come yet baby girl… let me be inside you for that” Jay gets y/n from the ground and sits her on the bed, lifting her by her ass and placing her in the middle of the bed. The lingerie set is starting to bother him, taking off the garters and the bra, leaving her only in her panties and thigh-high tights. Jay starts sucking and licking her perky nipples, moans escaping from her mouth as she just pushes his head up to her chest, going insane every second that passes and Jay doesn’t fuck her.

“Jay, please… do something, it hurts” y/n is almost crying at this point, rubbing her thighs is not enough to relieve the heat she feels between her legs. Jay smirks, pulling slowly her panties off and breathing heavily right next to her heat.

“Does it hurt here? do you need me to help you ease the pain?” Jay looks at y/n face from between her legs, y/n just wishing she could take a picture and keep this moment forever. Jay puts in one finger, realising how wet and ready she is for him. After getting three fingers in and many complaints from y/n to just fuck her already, Jay goes to his backpack and pulls out a condom. 

“Okay baby, I’m going in. You okay with it?” Even after almost supplicating him to fuck her he still makes sure she really wants to, which y/n feels a fire in her belly, he's 10x times hotter now than she already thought. 

“Yes Jay, I want you to fuck me like none has ever done it to me before” And with a kiss they both seal this promise, Jay going full in and bottoming out. He waits a few seconds so y/n can get used to the size, getting a few strands of hair out of her face, feeling too intimate while doing missionary position.

Jay starts moving slowly, y/n already asking for more and more, Jay feeling how her walls keep on getting tighter and tighter. He’s worried to get into it, cumming way too soon. His view is criminal, her hair all over the bed, her rosy cheeks and open mouth, her tits bouncing with each thrust… Jay needs to make her come before him so he starts doing circles on her clit, getting whimpers in response. Y/n is almost done, too tired to keep on going for this round. 

“Jay… Jay, I’m coming… stop it’s too much, I’m coming hard, ARHHHG!!!” y/n is laying on the bed, with blurry vision and an aching body. Jay finishes right after her, taking the condom off and painting her belly with his seed, satisfied with his job. 

y/n lays there for half an hour, Jay has let her chill on his hotel bed. She’s asleep as he cleans her up from the mess he made and waits for her to wake up to get her a bath ready. By the time she’s up again, Jay is cuddling with her and kissing her forehead, like she was his girlfriend and not some groupie. 

“Did you have fun? I think you kept your promise” Jay smiles as he remembers what the letter said. 

“What did I promise?” y/n is quite disoriented from the kick nap she just took

“You said something like… you were going to fuck me so dumb that … I wouldn’t even know the days of the week or something along those lines hahaha” y/n hides under the blankets as Jay pets her head. 

“To be honest… I wrote that when I was drunk… and horny… like I had just seen a fancam of you and you looked soo good… I got sad I didn’t stand a chance with you. But I guess I did” y/n looks up at him and he’s smiling at her, so cute she just had to kiss him. 

“So you were horny and you wrote that letter?”

“And took those polaroids, thinking of what your reaction could be to them. I guess I know now” 

“And did you think of me while you were touching yourself with that toy?” Jay wonders, already knowing the answer. 

“I don’t think I have ever touched myself without thinking of you Jay, I thought about you 24/7”

“That sounds good… now you just don’t have to think of me, now you can call me” Jay smirks and y/n understands perfectly, this will happen over and over again…

[caraetdeul]

Right Beside You

Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

Distance is nothing when you've got a love like this.

TW: None. Fluff, Long distance relationship, use of nicknames, some light cursing, slight mention of sex but nothing exclusive

A/n: this was shorter than the usual ones I write but nonetheless, it was still fun to do. Here's a fluff fic for Coups as a remedy for the angsty ones. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. If you haven’t felt the exhaustion in your body already, then the prominent bags under your eyes will definitely tell you that you are. But it’s not much of a surprise for you at this point because you know that the reason behind this isn’t something that should be astronomically studied. Instead, it all stems from the fact that you can’t sleep alone ever since your relationship with Seungcheol started.

Maybe there’s some sort of scientific reason as to why your boyfriend’s weight on your body as you cuddle up with each other is the only thing that can calm you enough to fall asleep. But maybe it can all just be a coincidence and you’re just having a mental breakdown at the thought of sleeping by yourself. Either way, nothing helps. And just like every night since Seungcheol left for his world tour, you’re left on your shared bed by yourself, staring at the ceiling while contemplating if the time difference between you won’t be much of a bother for him.

You know how tiring his work as an idol can be. Even when you’re far from him, there’s no doubt how much his job takes a toll on him just based on the updates you get from his messages and his group’s social media accounts. But even then, you still witness how hard he worked for each project they had. The passion and love that they give, not just for their work but also for their fans, are unmatched. As for you, you’ve never been so proud of someone until Seungcheol walked into your life and you always make sure he knows it. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t share the sentiment with you every time. So whenever you both come home from working all day, all your energy may be drained with the day’s demands but it will never hinder you from spending quality time within the comfort of each other’s arms. Safe to say, that was how your days always end.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol’s not faring any better than you. Jet lag may be a bigger factor in his exhaustion but he couldn’t deny that being without you by his side is also affecting him. Now that he thinks about it, that’s probably why the other members have been very mindful of everything that they do around him ever since they left the country. So when your phone rang just as you were about to Facetime him yourself, you knew right then and there that you weren’t alone in your misery. The relief of finally seeing your face once again washed over him the moment that you answered, the tension leaving his body in the meantime.

“Hi honey,” Seungcheol smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling with poorly hidden mirth, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You hummed, “No, I was already awake. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just missing you.”

Your heart melted at his innocent confession. You can feel your cheeks warm up as you reply bashfully, “I miss you too.”

Seungcheol’s smile widened but immediately turned upside down once he got a good look at you. Concern was written all over his face as he looked at you through the screen.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

Seungcheol sighed and you knew he caught your lie.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

You inhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not much of a why but more of a how…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been sleeping with you ever since we got together?”

Seungcheol snorted, his cheeks turning pink, “Oh, honey.”

 Your eyes widened once you realized the double meaning behind what you just said. The screen shook as you immediately sat up, your hands waving around as you tried to explain yourself, “That’s not what I meant! I promise! I was talking about how we’re sleeping together— beside each other! Beside. Each. Other. On the bed. Innocently. Not sex. Definitely not sex. But not like I’m saying that I don’t want to do that either ‘cause I do but that’s not what I meant. I just—”

Seungcheol’s laughter finally registered in your mind, effectively stopping you from digging yourself into a deeper hole. You pouted annoyed, “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol cooed, still laughing in between words, “I couldn’t help it. You were just being all cute and shit as you tried to defend yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as a smile fought its way onto your face. You then giggled when Seungcheol hadn’t stopped laughing, his joy outright contagious. As his laughter died down, so does yours. The air in your room was lighter than before and you only have your boyfriend to thank for.

“Now be honest, what’s the real reason why you’re not sleeping?”

You sighed, your voice softer with slight embarrassment, “I couldn’t sleep without your big arm around me and your body snuggled onto my side.”

His eyes softened, smiling remorsefully at the thought, “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I was there to be with you.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I know your work is very important and I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t want to be in between you and your work. I can deal with this in the meantime. This will pass, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The side of his lips twitched in thought, still unbothered by your situation despite your reassurances. His mouth opened, about to say something more but he was cut off by someone in the background shouting his name. You watched him from the other side of the screen as he talked to the person just out of the camera’s view.

Seungcheol turned back to you with a grimace, “Honey, I’m sorry but I got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Please, try and get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sent a flying kiss and laughed when Seungcheol caught it in the most dramatic way possible before ending the call. It wasn’t even a minute later when the silence of the bedroom dampened your mood. You sighed, lying down on your bed once again. You check the time on the bedside table, realizing that you only have 4 hours before you need to get up and go to work. Shuffling under the covers in an attempt to get comfortable as much as you can, you closed your eyes dreading another sleepless night.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since you had that call and since then, your sleep wasn’t getting any better.

You trudged your way into your apartment, exhausted from a stressful day at work. You probably had 3 cups of coffee already by lunchtime and an energy drink that was given to you by your coworker who had already witnessed you nodding off multiple times on your desk. Despite all of it, your sleepless nights were definitely catching up to you.

You made your way to your couch, leaving your shoes messily by the door. It’ll just be future me problem, you thought as you stumble through your living room. Plopping down on your couch, you were met by a big rectangular box on your coffee table with a note on top. Your senses immediately woke up, slowly panicking at the thought that someone was inside your apartment without you knowing. You cautiously took the note, eyeing the exterior of the box as if it were some kind of bomb waiting to explode on you. But once you opened the note, your heart slowly went back to its normal pace as you read through the letter.

To my loving and gorgeous partner in crime and in life,

I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping ever since I left and I know it’s because I’m not there with you to hold you while you sleep. So to make up for my absence, I bought this for you. Hopefully, it can suffice for the time being. I even sprayed it with my perfume so it would feel closer to the real deal. Stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Lots of love,

Seungcheol

P.S. Joshua got bored in the hotel so he begged me to embroider a small part of it. Couldn’t really deny his request when he told me his idea.

P.P.S. Please, don’t panic once you see the package in your apartment. I asked your mom to bring it to you and I told her where the spare key is.

You immediately opened the package and almost sobbed once you saw what was inside. You slowly pulled out the folded weighted blanket from the box which was also in your favorite color. Even from a distance, you could already smell Seungcheol’s perfume all over it which only made you want to cry more. As you unfolded the blanket on your lap, you finally found the embroidered part of the blanket which was on the top left corner. You laughed under your breath in amusement and awe once you realized that Joshua embroidered a chibi version of your favorite animal holding a big cherry and underneath it were both of your initials in red thread.

It was perfect.

That night, Seungcheol received a selfie of you snuggled up under the blanket with the embroidered part, which he was guessing was right over your heart. You then received a selfie of his own, which shows his dimpled smile with a half-heart sign on his cheek. Needless to say, you finally got a good night’s sleep.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[pretzel-box]

Tags: Comedy, Some Fluff, Streamer AU, GN!reader x Human! Sebastian

Words: 1,9k

"Pressured_Solace has started a stream. Click here to watch."

The blue notification button caught your eye as it popped up on your desktop, the usual alert signaling that your favorite streamer was live. A thumbnail of the game he was about to play accompanied the message, and without hesitation, you clicked to join the stream.

“Jellycatfished joined the stream!”

“Is that the real one??”

“Bet it's another faker looking for donations.”

A grin spread across your face as you slid your headphones over your ears, adjusting them for comfort as you leaned back in your gaming chair. Solace hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on setting up the stream and chatting casually with the early viewers. Hearing his deep, familiar voice through your headphones sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, filling you with a warm, giddy excitement. Pressured_Solace was your absolute favorite streamer—witty, thoughtful, and with a voice that could melt butter. Like you, he streamed without a face cam, leaving his appearance up to the imagination of his audience, which only added to his charm.

“I think… yeah, I’m all set. Everything’s good,” he mumbled into his microphone. You could hear the sounds of items shuffling around and the clatter of coffee mugs on a wooden desk in the background. Then he leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping to a playful tone. “Test, test, 1-2, 1-2. Can everybody hear me?”

The chat lit up with eager replies—greetings, questions, and a flood of emotes scrolling by at high speed. The sound of his chuckle was like music to your ears as he tried to keep up with the barrage of messages. You could feel his excitement; it was the same rush of emotions and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you streamed.

“Alright, just a heads-up,” he continued, his tone teasing. “I got a new microphone, and I haven’t fine-tuned all the settings yet. So if you hear anything other than my voice… well, that’s just proof I’m not a robot.”

His joke made you laugh out loud, and without a second thought, you hit the like button to show your support. This was classic Solace, always with that sassy vibe and the funny comments right up his sleeve.

You moved your cursor again, hovering over the donation button as you carefully selected the amount, leaning forward with excitement as you typed a message to accompany it. Money wasn’t an issue for you—you had sponsorships, collaborations, and a well-paying side job as a secretary at a company called Urbanshade. So you took the liberty of spoiling yourself a little by supporting your beloved streamer.

“Jellycatfished has donated $1000. ‘You're telling me you are not an AI that will take over the world, Solace??’”

The automatic voice read out your donation, and Solace burst into laughter, probably shaking his head in amusement. “Welcome back, beloved Jelly. How many times do I have to tell you not to donate so much, silly?” His words were playful, but there was a certain softness in his tone, a hint of affection that made your heart flutter. Knowing that your favorite streamer had noticed you always brought a smile to your face. “But seriously, thank you, Jelly, for the donation,” he said warmly. “I appreciate your support—although I’m starting to think you’re secretly trying to buy my loyalty.”

You laughed, quickly typing back into the chat, “Maybe I am! How else would I get the attention of the coolest streamer online?” A quick moment of embarrassment filled you as you suddenly regretted your message, was it too cringe? Too much?

Solace chuckled again into the microphone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “You don’t need to buy my attention, Jelly. You’ve always had it.”

The chat exploded with a flurry of reactions, hearts, and playful comments. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. This was the magic of streaming—the hidden identities, the mystery, the fun banter. It was your little escape from reality, and you loved every second of it.

Just then, a notification popped up on the screen.

“Pressured_Solace has invited Jellycatfished to a private match!”

It was an invitation to a combat pvp game that grew popular in the past few days, blowing up on social media. It became one of your favorite things to stream, and Solace knew that.

Your heart skipped a beat as you glimpsed at the sudden invitation. A private match? With him? You quickly accepted the invitation, feeling a rush of adrenaline and excitement. As the game loaded, Solace spoke again, his voice filled with that familiar teasing tone. “Alright, Jelly, let’s see if you’re as good in-game as you are at throwing money around.”

You laughed, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. It wasn’t the first time you played with him and surely not the last. “Bring it on, Solace. I’ve been practicing.” This was the last message you typed before the loading screen disappeared.

The game started, and the playful banter between the two of you continued over the ingame voice chat, filled with laughter, friendly taunts, and unexpected plot twists. The chat was loving it, spamming comments like “OMG, this is the collab we didn’t know we needed!” and “Ship them already!”

As the game loaded into the next round of the PvP arena, the tension between you and Pressured_Solace crackled like electricity. The map was a sprawling labyrinth of narrow corridors and open spaces, perfect for ambushes and quick escapes. You took a deep breath, fingers flexing over the keyboard, ready to bring your A-game. The chat, that was open on your second screen, was buzzing with excitement, filled with a mixture of support and playful taunts.

"Let’s go, Jelly! Show Solace who's boss!"

“Team Jellycatfished for the win!"

“Pressured_Solace may be good, but Jelly's got that magic touch!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the encouragement flooding in. The support from your fans always gave you that extra boost of confidence, especially when it came to facing off against someone as skilled as Solace. You knew he was good—really good. But you weren’t about to let that intimidate you.

“Alright, Jelly,” Solace’s voice came through your headphones, smooth and teasing. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

“Oh, I plan to do more than keep up,” you shot back, your voice light and playful. “I’m coming for you, Solace. How about a bet?”

“A bet?” He chuckles. “Sure.”

You started to smirk as an idea came to your mind. “If I win, I get to wish something from you.” It took a moment for Solace to reply, he was definitely teasing you by pretending to think. “Fine, but if I win, you're the one that has to fulfill a wish.”

“Deal.”

The match began, and you immediately took off, sprinting down a side corridor to grab some resources. You knew the map well enough to anticipate the power-ups and health packs that would spawn in certain locations. If you could get to them first, you might stand a chance.

But Solace was a step ahead. As you rounded a corner, you were met with a hail of bullets, forcing you to duck behind a crate. You could hear Solace chuckling through the mic.

“Nice try, Jelly, but you’re gonna have to be faster than that,” he taunted, his confidence evident.

Your heart raced as you peeked out from behind the crate, firing off a few rounds in his direction. He dodged easily, taking cover behind a wall. The chat was going wild, cheering you on, urging you to give it your all.

“Come on, Jelly! You got this!”

“Don’t let him intimidate you!”

“Use the power of the Jellycatfished!”

You grinned, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You quickly reloaded and made a break for it, dashing toward the nearest cover. You had to stay on the move—staying in one place too long would make you an easy target. Solace’s aim was deadly accurate, and you needed to keep him guessing.

But every time you thought you had a plan, he was already two steps ahead. He moved through the map like he was born there, seamlessly transitioning from offense to defense. You managed to get a few hits in, but he was quick to recover, always staying just out of reach.

“Having fun yet, Jelly?” he asked, his tone light but focused.

“More fun than you can handle,” you retorted, launching a surprise attack from above, dropping down from a higher platform. Your ambush caught him off guard, and you managed to land a few solid hits before he rolled away, retaliating with a well-placed grenade that forced you back.

The chat erupted with excitement.

“YES! Go, Jelly, go!”

“That was epic!”

“Don’t let up, Jellycatfished!”

Despite the cheers, you could feel the pressure mounting. Solace was clearly better, his skill evident in every move he made. He was precise, calm, and knew exactly how to control the flow of the game. You, on the other hand, were running on adrenaline and instinct, trying to keep up with his calculated strategies.

And then he made his move. In a swift, decisive maneuver, he cornered you in a dead-end alley, cutting off your escape routes. You fired desperately, but his shots were faster, more accurate. Before you knew it, your health bar was dwindling down to nothing.

“Looks like this is the end, Jelly,” Solace said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Any last words?”

You grinned, a surge of determination flooding through you. “Yeah… don’t underestimate me.”

With a final burst of energy, you lunged forward, launching one last, desperate attack. It was reckless, but you had nothing to lose. You managed to land a few more hits before Solace finished you off with a well-placed headshot.

“Defeated! Pressured_Solace wins the match!”

The screen flashed the results, and the chat exploded with a mix of cheers and playful groans.

“GG, Jelly! You put up a good fight!”

“Solace is just too good!”

“Rematch! Rematch!”

“That was intense!”

Breathless, you leaned back in your chair, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad, Solace. Not bad at all.”

“Not bad? I’d say that was a pretty solid victory,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But you did put up a good fight, Jelly. I’m impressed.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of pride despite the loss. “I’ll get you next time, Solace. Mark my words.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the screen. “I always enjoy a challenge from you.”

The chat continued to buzz with excitement, fans from both sides celebrating the epic showdown. Even though you didn’t win, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You may have lost the match, but you had fun, and more importantly, you had earned Solace’s respect. And that, in itself, felt like a win.

As the stream continued, you and Solace bantered back and forth, the playful rivalry only fueling the chat's excitement. It was moments like these that reminded you why you loved streaming so much—the thrill of the game, the support of the community, and the chance to connect with someone like Pressured_Solace, even if you didn’t know him outside of this virtual world.

But there was always tomorrow, and another game to be played. And who knows? Maybe next time, the outcome would be different.

A message plopped up at last, Solace texted you privately over the streaming platform.

“Alright Jellykitten.” He obviously joked by giving you such a silly nickname. “Time for my wish, prepare for your doom!”

“What is it, Solace?”

“Share your discord tag with me.”

[ruwhimsical]

“I WASN’T LEADING YOU ON, GIRL!”

He was no longer the sloppy volleyball player you hung out with, but he still was your best friend—right?

cw : heavy angst , slight fluff , gn!reader , miscommunication , hidden feelings , reader has some ass friends , idk what else !!just read and find out😈

——

You invited your friends to the MSBY match, knowing they’d be more than happy to accept. They weren’t your closest friends—just people you met along the way during university—but they were better company than going alone. The thought of running into Hinata by yourself made you uneasy.

One of your friends kept gushing about how all the players on the team were “eye candy.” This was typical for them—they’d always openly talk about guys they liked during class, feigning ignorance about how uncomfortable it made you. But you never said anything, afraid they’d drop you if you did.

Right now, though, you were thankful for their chatter. It was a convenient distraction from your thoughts, especially with Hinata on your mind. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to suppress the awkwardness when you saw him. The dread was already building in your stomach, even before the match had started. You knew he’d search for you in the crowd afterward, probably try to strike up a conversation. But what did he even want from you now?

The three of you made your way to the stands, your friends ahead, engrossed in a conversation you didn’t care to join. You took your designated seats.

“I’m so excited for this, oh my god! Do you think I could get Sakusa to sign my shirt?” one of your friends exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Be so for real… he’d probably send the biggest dirty your way,” the other one snorted, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

You tuned them out, your eyes scanning the arena. Then, your focus landed on MSBY’s number 21. Your “best friend”—or at least, that’s what you used to call him.

But that was before he cut you off. You had no right to crawl back into his life. He’d made that clear two years ago when you heard the news of his departure—not from him, but from Kageyama, of all people.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the velocity of a spike sent the ball smashing into the floor. You glanced at the scoreboard: Hinata had already scored a point for his team.

“Hey, Y/N… isn’t that orange-haired guy the one who invited you here?” one of your friends asked, piquing the curiosity of the other.

“Oh my god… are you guys secretly dating or something?” your friend giggled, leaning in with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to pry the answer out of you.

“It’s not like that,” you said quickly, offering a half-smile. How you wished it were, but that was a fantasy. “We just hung out during school. He messaged me and asked if I wanted to come, nothing crazy.”

“Bummer… but I won’t lie, he’s a really good player,” she said, slumping down in her seat.

You looked back at the arena, and there he was—Hinata, darting around the court with the same speed and stamina you remembered, reminding you of his old self. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much, after all. But then you noticed the difference—his movements were no longer sloppy. They were controlled, smooth, as if every motion had purpose. He was confident, proud, the embodiment of someone who’d truly grown.

The sight brought a bittersweet smile to your face. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration for how far he’d come. But looking at the back of his jersey, you were reminded of the cold, hard truth.

To achieve his dreams, he’d had to create distance. He had chosen to leave you behind to pursue them, likely never telling you in fear of you trying to stop him. You weren’t selfish—you would have fought for him. But maybe he saw you as a threat to his ideal life. He cut you off without a word, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

Now, here he was, trying to waltz back into your life. But you knew it wouldn’t feel the same. No matter how friendly he acted, no amount of effort could erase the two years of radio silence between the two of you.

You were no longer on the same wavelength. He had become someone who lived in a different world—out of reach.

——

As the match comes to an end with MSBY claiming victory, the stands erupt with energy. Fans rise to their feet, reporters swarm toward the sweaty players, and long lines form as eager supporters clutch their merchandise, hoping for a chance at an autograph. You, on the other hand, are desperate to leave, debating whether to send Hinata a quick text with an excuse that the commotion is too overwhelming to meet him.

But before you can make your escape, your friends pull you toward the crowd surrounding the players, hoping to catch their attention. You stand awkwardly on the outskirts, silently begging for this to end. Then, a light tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you feel your heart lurch, nearly stopping altogether.

There he is—the one and only Hinata Shoyo, smiling as if the past two years had never even happened.

He stands before you, now 5’7”, his once-boyish frame replaced by a lean, muscular build honed by endless practice and the fierce Brazilian sun, which left his skin with a tan that hasn’t faded. You realize you might not have recognized him if he hadn’t spoken first. This isn’t the same 5’4” kid you used to spend your days with. He’s different now—almost a stranger.

“Hey y/n, I’m so glad you could make it,” the change in his voice catches you off guard, making it hard to come to terms with the fact that he’s standing in front of you—not as the third-year high schooler you once knew, but as a professional athlete.

“Yeah…” At a loss for words, you try to shift his attention away from your awkward demeanor.

“You were great out there, I almost didn’t believe that was you,” you shoot him a nervous smile, hands tucked behind your back.

“Of course! They don’t call me Ninja Shoyo for nothing,” he puffs out his chest, attempting to impress you—but it only makes you laugh.

It almost—almost—reminds you of how things used to be. Maybe you could pick up the pieces of the friendship you two left behind, after all. And if you’re lucky, you might even be able to make something new blossom between the two of you.

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious, you know!” He glares at you, but then, he stops. He notices the way your eyes soften, and it hits him—he misses this. He missed you. He can’t let you slip through his fingers now that you’re finally here, standing before him.

“Y/N!!” One of your friends rushes toward you, pulling you away from him before you can reply. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You know she’s lying, but the way she eyeing Hinata and disregarding your existence burns.

“I’m your biggest fan! You’re so fine,” your friend says, grasping Hinata’s hand.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hinata flashes his best fan smile, like it’s second nature. But the one thing that hasn’t changed? Your ability to read him like an open book.

A surge of anger courses through your veins. Whether it’s jealousy or something else, you’re not sure, but it’s enough to push you into action. You need a way out of this awkward scene—and quickly. Then, you notice the subtle glance Hinata gives you, and it sparks your idea.

“Hinata, how’s your foot? Does it still hurt?” You look at him, hoping he’ll catch on.

Quick as ever, he feigns pain, rubbing his leg. “Yeah, now that you mention it, it does kind of hurt.”

“Oh, why don’t I help you get to the first aid? It’d be a shame if you couldn’t play your next match because of this,” you suggest, shifting to offer him your support. He carefully leans on you, but you can tell he’s being cautious, not wanting to put too much weight on you.

“Bye, guys! You can head on without me!” You hear their confused, skeptical glances, but you ignore them. You escort him outside, where their prying eyes won’t be able to reach.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Hinata bends down, holding his knee while resting against the wall. He looks up at you with a small, grateful smile.

“Don’t you deal with fans like that all the time?” you cross your arms, a cool demeanor returning as you lock eyes with him.

“Yeah, but it’s not every day I get to see you,” he says, a smile that’s real, not the one he gives desperate fans. It’s the smile of someone who’s been missing you, someone who’s never forgotten you.

“If those are your actual friends, I feel bad for you,” he adds, and you can’t help but feel a mix of dread and anger. You want to keep the mood light, but there’s something inside you that just won’t let it go. You can’t ignore the hurt anymore.

“Yeah, you could’ve been my friend if you hadn’t left without a word two years ago.” The words are out before you can stop them, and you watch as his smile falters, his gaze shifting away from you—avoiding it, as if running from the confrontation. But you’re not going to let him run again.

He turns away, looking at the ground, but the guilt is clear. His posture stiffens, as if he’s struggling to find the right words.

“About that… it was kind of hard to break the news,” he admits, and you almost see red. The anger wells up in you again as you whip your face toward him, seeing the tension in his clenched jaw. He’s distressed.

Your mind spirals, hurt and confusion overwhelming you. Did he think I was a nuisance? Did he forget about me? Or worse… did he not even care?

“What do you mean? You told everyone else with ease.” You scoff, trying to suppress the rush of emotions. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to fix things. But it’s clear now—he’s not on the same page.

“You’re different…” he says quietly, his voice breaking the tension.

You’re caught off guard, the air thick with the weight of his words. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to process it all.

“You’re special to me…” he continues, his voice soft, like he’s testing the waters. “There was just no way I could tell you without breaking down. I knew that if I told you face-to-face, I would’ve started doubting my decision. And you know how much volleyball means to me.”

“So do I not mean as much?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. You laugh bitterly. Does he think that’s a good enough excuse?

“You could’ve texted me, you know,” you mutter under your breath, but the words are sharp with the sting of betrayal.

“I know… but I had hoped if I just said nothing, then we could pick up where we left off when I got back. It’d be as if nothing had changed at all.”

Nothing had changed at all? The anger in you swells.

“You’re so selfish…” Your voice cracks, but you hold it together. “Do you know how many pitiful glances people gave me whenever your name was mentioned? How I spent months unable to function because I thought my best friend hated me? I doubted if you even considered me a friend!”

You feel your heart pounding as you try to keep it together. The frustration, the hurt, the confusion—all of it comes rushing back in a tide of emotion. The anger takes over, but beneath it is a vulnerability you refuse to show.

“I don’t hate you…” He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to gently take yours. “I could never hate you. I loved you, okay? I loved you, and I was afraid that if we stayed in touch, you wouldn’t be interested anymore. That I wouldn’t have time for you.”

The words hang in the air, suffocating you. He’s desperate. You can feel it, the weight of the years that passed between you two. It’s almost too much to bear.

“You could’ve told me before…” The words escape you in a whisper. “I would’ve tried. I would’ve made it work. Clearly, you undermine how much I care about you. When have I ever been bored of you?”

His eyes gleam with that hope again. “We can start fresh. Forget the last two years. Let’s make it work, please…”

You want to give in. You want to run into his arms and forget everything. But you can’t. You know it won’t be the same. You know that you can’t ignore the hurt of the past two years.

“I don’t think we can…” You pull your hands away from his grasp. The scene plays out slowly in his eyes as you begin to walk away from him—the same way he walked away from you.

“I’m sorry, Hinata. I just can’t bring myself to act like those two years didn’t happen.” Your voice cracks, but you don’t turn around.

And for the first time, it was his turn to feel the anguish you’ve carried all this time.

extra :

—> FREE ME exams are around the corner and instead of studying I’m doing this lol!😂😂😂😭😂😭😂😭😂😭😂

—> gulps i hope u guys enjoyed this cause I certainly did not enjoy writing ts!!

—> help i lowkey feel like no one gets the songs the thaf i reference as my title

—> this how we coping chat ….👅

© banner and writing belongs to ruwhimsical 2024. do not repost

mlist

[prettiestofpisces]

Breanna Stewart x Reader

nsfw 18+

💋: angst, car quickie, college stewie

⋆ ★ let me know if this is absolutely garbage and what to fix, you won’t hurt my feelings…muah

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you knew what breanna wanted when she asked if you were up.

“i want to come see you.”

you stared at the message contemplating if you wanted to get hurt yet again.

fooling around with thee breanna stewart, uconns mvp, was not for the weak. especially when she was up to no good. she wanted you for one thing and one thing only.

you two had met through mutual friends and as you attended her games your eyes lingered on breanna more than you’d like to admit. afterwards when all your friends would gather breanna couldn’t help but surround herself by you, asking where you were. becoming closer and closer you no longer needed a group of friends as an excuse to find your way back to one another. you two could enjoy each others company alone and conversate about life outside of basketball and aspirations while never getting tired.

spending sacred time together also meant there were hidden glances and touches that lingered that therefore only progressed.

after games there were no more nights out on the town but rather nights in with just the two of you that held no more innocent touches but instead the most ravishing sex you’d ever had.

after a hard loss breanna would be in distress and fuck you like there was no tomorrow. her pent up frustrations released into the rough kisses she gave you and forceful fingers rammed into your cunt.

however when they won, which was quite often, she’d treat you like a princess. holding your face in her hands pecking your lips and running her fingers through your hair.

nights like these you couldn’t help but to think you were in love. and sooner or later you’d be able to call breanna yours.

but those were not her intentions as breanna claimed this was just “for fun.” occupying her time and yours.

you should’ve known, you should’ve known she never had love for you once she orgasmed and rushed to put her clothes back on, never looking back.

but sex and to feel good clouded your judgment so now you’re here in the passenger seat of a 2005 toyota 4runner with the curly brunette in the drivers seat.

“why couldn’t i have come up again?” she questioned.

“because my roommate is sleeping B” you sigh and roll your eyes.

you lie between your teeth when in reality she begged you not to go downstairs. but you were consistent in telling your roommate you were only going to “talk” some things over, and to not worry.

as the stars twinkle breanna simply hums and scans your body, taking in the tight shirt which exposed your hardened nipples and short shorts that revealed your plush thighs.

“you look good” she mumbles.

“thank you B” you say flustered and unable to make eye contact. you look at the clock on the radio that illuminates the time, 12:37.

“look it’s late stewie and i’ve-“ she cuts you off to then grab your face, bring it close and whisper “so we need to be quick.” not able to resist, your breath halters and lips depart, you nod in agreeance and your facade faded.

breanna waste no time in securing your mouths together and playing with your bottom lip.

you whine, unsure of where to put your hands in which they result on her shoulders. sticking your tongue in her mouth they swirl together.

swapping spit was not in your night time regimen, but, you couldn’t resist all 6 foot and 4 inches of breanna. after some minutes of making out stewie grabs hold of your waist hoisting you up and over the middle console onto her lap. as you both release from the kiss a pop could be heard and you get settled in your new positions. breanna she pushes the seat down and back creating more room.

panting, you grind your clothed pussy on hers and slowly take off your top. breanna however quickly attaches one hand on to your tit and her lips on your neck. she sucked and scratched until after leaving a dark mark on your collarbone, satisfied. Leaning back into the seat she takes her shirt own off leaving just the black nike sports bra you knew all too well. in comparison she watched you struggle to manipulate yourself to take your shorts and panties off, a smile washing over her face.

you look at her with an annoyed expression and set yourself back on her lap, clit now exposed.

you look at each other in content.

“sit on my face” her grin widens

“hmm?”

“i said, ride my face, hard”

a puzzled expression takes over, and your nerves chewed you up.

in attempt to put your concerns at ease, stewie takes hold of you waist once again and forces you to move up over her chest.

seeing how bad she wants this you readjust some more and settle down to feel the immediate wetness of her tongue on your lips. hands still on your waist they move your hips back and forth and in circles along breannas lips, tongue and nose.

your hand makes it way to the window leaving a condensated print.

“B you make me feel so good” you moan and move harder, squeezing your eyes shut.

she chuckles and the vibrations tighten the knot in your stomach.

“o-oh my god”

“suck my clit harder please”

“mm fuck-“

dirty words expelled from you uncontrollably while stewie took one hand away from your torso to slap and grab your ass.

you yelp and just like that your orgasm was approaching.

everything on breanna is long, her arms, legs and especially her tongue. she stuck the muscle right in your pussy and with a few more pumps, in and out your orgasm hit you like a brick wall.

sliding off her face and back on breannas hips you cup your cunt as all the feelings became too much.

“you’re shaking” stewie says with a laugh.

“no shit B”

“we can really do this more often”

as stewie kisses you gently, reality then hits. more often meaning, late night calls and quickies.

your eyes taking in all her features glistening with your slick made you contemplate whether you’re able to really say goodbye and let her go.

“um- no B i don’t think we can…”

it’s breannas turn to then look puzzled.

her large palms move from your waist to the small of your back and rub the area in undetectable patterns.

“i-i don’t want to continue this.”

in search for your clothes you return back to the passenger seat.

“what?” she says plainly.

you slip your shirt and shorts on “i’m tired of doing this with you, pretending like i don’t want something more!”

breanna whips her head at you, eyebrows raised

“it pains me we’re so intimate but i can’t say you’re mine” you clutch your chest ready for whatever dismissive excuse she was about to give you. but instead she rubs her face and closes her eyes “okay.”

“okay?! breanna are you fucking serious?”

you’re hurt.

you never called her breanna, only “B” and on rare occasions “stewie.”

She blinks in disbelief “i truly don’t know what to say but i think it’ll all hurt your feelings.” she combs her fingers through her messy curls and you watch as the digits flex.

the words coming out her mouth sounded so good in her northern accent but their meaning sending you in shock.

you nod with wide eyes unsure of how the only person you had been so vulnerable with couldn’t give you the time nor day.

you simply get out of the suv holding back tears. on route back to your apartment, stewie watches your hips sway and you turn around to spit

“fuck you.”

you hear the engine to her car start.

she wasn’t going to call for you? yell out and tell you to come back?

no.

but she does wait until you’re in said apartment to speed away. leaving you to climb back in bed sobbing silently.

although the next morning you wake to a text reading

“i’m sorry.”

[breezy141]

that’s so cool | dave lizewski x f!reader masterlist.

a lil one shot. lemme know if u want a pt. 2 tho :))

before opening your locker door you quickly checked if anyone was wandering around in the hallways, you didn’t really want anyone to see what was hidden in there. the coast was clear so you put in the combination and yanked it open as quickly as you could.

a smile crept onto your face as you pulled out the comic you were halfway through, the amazing spider-man, you had a reputation to withhold in this school, you weren’t going to let some geeky comic books tarnish that so you hid them as if it was some kind of drug.

“you have the amazing spider-man, with the limited edition front page!? holy” you heard a familiar voice speak out to you, you spun around holding it behind your back. dave lizewski was stood there, his hands holding the straps of his backpack. he was a nerd, one you shouldn’t be seen with. i mean, you always thought he was so precious and such a cutie but unfortunately, you cared more about your stupid reputation.

“n-no what are you talking about? it was an english book” he frowned and tilted his head a little. “listen, i won’t tell a soul. plus, i’ve read enough comic books to know exactly what that is” to be honest, he was a bit of a geek so who’d believe him if he said anything anyway, you thought to yourself.

“fine.” slumping your shoulders a little you pulled the book from behind you and showed the front cover to him. “my daddy got it for me! it was a birthday gift, apparently there is only a hand full available. thankfully i own one” dave was in pure awe. he couldn’t believe it.

“that’s..so cool. i never knew you were into comic books” he said with a small giggle, you caught yourself smiling at that. noticing quickly, you pressed your lips into a fine line and looked down at the ground.

“yeah, i’ve always been into them. as i grew up i kinda drifted from them but when daddy got me this i could not resist so that phase has kinda come back” he nodded as you spoke, “hey, um, i have loads that i could give you, o-only if you wanted them! maybe it could inspire you to read them again”

frowning, you debated whether or not you should take them. usually, guys would never actually care for your interests; all they cared for is seeing you on their bed, sprawled out across the bed, wearing next to nothing for them.

“if you don’t want me to give you them here, maybe we could meet up somewhere and i’ll show you some” dave spoke up after he noticed you were unusually quiet.

“well, why don’t we do both? you could give me a couple now and show me some others another time, maybe on the weekend” dave’s eyes seemed to light up “really?!” you flashed a confused smile at him.

“i, erm, i mean yes we can do that” you giggled a little at his awkwardness. pulling out a pen from your cute pink bag, and a random slip of paper you wrote your number down and passed it to him. “when you get home, message me. we can figure out a time we can both do, and then meet up” he took the paper and stared at it for a little.

“but for now, let’s go to the library, the private section of course, and read some of these comics you were talking about” he pocketed the paper and nodded, you linked your arm around his and began walking to the library.

part of you cared about people seeing you together, but the other half didn’t. maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing getting to know dave, he was such a cute guy!

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — fifteen: you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

You drape a warm blanket over Hanni, sighing as you watch her chest move up and down as she lets out slow breaths.

You had texted Heeseung earlier that you’d have to do a rain check on the dinner he had planned, made some lame excuse about how much homework you had in your international relations class.

“Is she okay?” Your younger brother Riki looks over at the sleeping girl, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes, she’s just shaken up.” You bite on your lip nervously, not sure what to do. Did she really mean she never hated you in the first place?

“I thought you stopped that habit when you moved to Korea,” Riki says.

“What?”

“Biting your lip whenever you’re nervous.” He shrugs. “Mom says you did, but I guess it redeveloped.”

You’re not sure what to say to that. “I guess.”

“I’m going to go out.” He grabs his jacket, “with Danielle. We’re just going to go to the movies and then eat at Jack’s Gelato. Did you want me to bring you back some?”

“If they have hazelnut, then sure.” You look out at the window, tiny droplets of rain had started to turn into pours. “Bring an umbrella, will you? Mom would kill me if you were sick.”

He nods, grabbing a purple umbrella on the way out.

Now all you could do is sit and reflect back on your thoughts alone. Had you been wrong this whole time about Hanni? Was it Seojun and Sunghoon who were in the wrong?

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when there’s a loud knock at the door. Hanni shuffles in her sleep, making you silently panic.

You rush over to the door, which reveals a wet haired Heeseung who looked like he practically ran a whole block to get to you.

“Heeseung? What the hell?” You say, shoving him quickly inside your house so he wouldn’t freeze to death outside.

“I’m sorry—I got your message and I felt something was wrong—I don’t know.”

He’s out of breath, but as his eyes land on Pham Hanni sleeping on your couch, he swore he falls back from the overwhelming dizziness.

“Jesus, you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” You say, pulling the much taller boy up to his feet.

“What is she doing here?”

“I saw her crying,” you explain. “In the corridor. Then she got overwhelmed and passed out on me. That’s why I told you I couldn’t make it.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue, not too sure what to make of the whole scenario.

The girl he was sure he’d always wanted was sleeping on the couch across from him. The girl who he knows he wants now was standing right in front of him, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Why didn’t you tell Sunghoon?”

“I don’t trust him.”

And it’s true. You don’t. No girlfriend would cry that much if they were in a good relationship with no worries about their finances. It was all too good to be true.

“Heeseung?”

The groggily voice of Hanni breaks you and Heeseung’s intense eye contact.

“Hanni.”

She gets up, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“What’s going on?”

“Do you want to explain why Seojun is paying for your tuition?”

You slightly gasp at how straightforward your words are, taking a step back from Hanni and Heeseung.

“What?”

Heeseung looks at Hanni intensely. “Is that true? Seojun is paying for your fees, Hanni?”

Hanni stays still, then let’s out a laugh. It’s a small, hollow, laugh. Almost as if it was devoid of emotion.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I was supposed to be one of the scholarship kids. The poor ones we would constantly make fun of.”

It’s like a sting to your entire body the way Hanni talks about the scholarship kids as if they were nothing. You and your friend group strived off the scholarships and were given opportunities many would die on hills wishing for. How could she even think that cruelly about people who were in the same position as her if Seojun had not come in and saved the day?

“We’re going to make an exposé,” you say, voice almost shaking. “About how Seojun’s dad is a fraud. You’re going to lose all the money you have and be kicked out of Decelis.”

Hanni bites the inside of her cheek. “So?”

“So?” Heeseung throws his hands up in the air. “God, Hanni, are you even listening to yourself?”

“Are you listening to yourselves?” Hanni gets up, pointing directly at both you and Heeseung. “You can try to aim for my heart, but in the end, I’ve already lost everything important to me. You think I care about Decelis now? You really think I would care?”

“You don’t have to be the bad guy,” you say. “You could help me. You could take Seojun’s father down and do what’s right.”

Hanni looks conflicted for a brief minute before she shakes her head.

“Look,” she says. “I appreciate you lending me a place to rest. But I just can’t.”

She gets up to leave, but not before turning around to face you two.

“Oh and Heeseung?”

He looks up at her.

“I would’ve loved being your girlfriend.”

Your throat feels like sandpaper and you try to reach for her but Heeseung pulls you back abruptly.

“Don’t.” He breathes out, “you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

[leclerc-hs]

me or him? - cl x hs

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader, ex!harry styles x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon, in which your ex (harry styles) shows up to the paddock and brings jealousy to Charles Warnings: some smut, language, bad writing?? Word Count: 1098 Author's Note: You ask and I shall deliver!! Sorry I didn't make Harry as toxic in it, it was hard for me to make him too much of an asshole because he's such a cutie patootie LOL. I really did want to make him more of an asshole. Maybe I'll make another. I hope it's up to your standards for now! I tried my best ❤️ French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

YOU COULDN'T HELP but feel like the universe was playing a twisted joke on you. In what world would Harry Styles be attending a Grand Prix, let alone the Monaco Grand Prix, and to make things even more surreal, he’s in the Ferrari garage. Where you presently stood beside Charles.

To the casual observer, it might not have seemed like anything out of the ordinary. Just another celebrity making a visit to the paddock. But there was a significant detail that set this celebrity apart from the rest: he happened to be your ex-boyfriend.

It was a detail of your past you didn’t get to mention. To be fair, you and Charles were still a relatively new couple, and you hadn’t found the right moment to discuss past relationships with one another just yet. 

“You look so beautiful, ma chérie.” My darling. You both were hidden in the corner as he pecked a gentle kiss onto your lips. Your hands slowly wrap around the back of his neck, a knot formed in your stomach. You needed to give him some warning.

“Cha, I need to tell you this fast. My ex-boyfriend is here.” You whispered it so fast and so low you don’t even know if he heard you correctly.

You and Harry hadn’t parted on bad terms; in fact, your breakup had been quite mutual. However, it was also fair to admit that it was messy in terms of ending up in each other’s bed every so often. But that was before. Before Charles.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupts, and you both quickly separate from each other. You felt like a deer in headlights.

“Harry! How are you doing?” You gave Harry a small, polite hug, still avoiding eye contact with Charles. The thought of his reaction made you nervous, and you couldn’t get yourself to meet his gaze. 

Charles had never exhibited a penchant for possessiveness, or at least, you had not perceived him as such. Nevertheless, in this instant, the proximity of your ex-boyfriend, who gazed at you as if you were the sole focus of this entire room, ignited an uncontrollable urge to clench his fists and drag you someplace else. Somewhere far away from here.

“Doing well,” Harry began, his gaze unwavering on your face. “I thought I’d run into you at the annual Christmas soiree,” he mused with a chuckle, following it with, “I’ve missed you.”

You almost choked on your response.

Charles could sense his frustration intensifying at the undivided attention of Harry seemed to be giving you. Although you continued to avert your gaze from Charles, the vice-like grip of his hand on your hip conveyed an unmistakable message of his discontent.

Harry’s gaze traveled, from your face down your body, following the path of Charles’s hand that had claimed its place. A slight frown forming on his lips.

“Harry, meet Charles, my boyfriend.” You said with a soft smile. Harry extended a hand towards Charles, who, though still visibly tense, accepted the handshake.

Silence filled the space between them, unspoken words hanging in the air. You found yourself ensnared amid an unvoiced rivalry. Harry who struggled to divert his attention from your face for more than a fleeting moment. Charles who wanted to stake claim.

Charles felt increasingly invisible as you and Harry further engaged in conversation. He couldn’t even decipher what you were discussing at this point. His focus had shifted entirely to observing the way Harry was looking at you. Like he wanted you. Like he had no shame.

It made Charles livid.

“Ma chérie, we need to go grab my helmet. I left it in my driver’s room.” Charles cut off the conversation by pulling you away. Not even sparing another glance to Harry. 

You didn’t get to see the expression on Charles’ face as he hurriedly led you into his driver’s room. You didn’t even have a chance to take a single step, as the moment the door was shut, you found yourself pushed up against it and your dress was bunched at your waist.

"You're helmet was literally in the garage Cha," you squealed out.

“Are you trying to drive me insane?” His breath was hot against your ear. You felt goosebumps arise almost instantly at the sound of him shoving his race suit down his legs to free himself. 

“Thinks he can have you back.” He scoffed. “Thinks he can stare at what’s mine.”

He spit directly onto his hand, mimicking the gesture of spitting on the sidewalk. An act of frustration. Almost instantly, he brought his fingers between your fold. “Ma chérie, you’re already so wet.” He hissed as he rubbed his cock through your slick folds.

“Always,” you breathed out heavily as he pushed himself all the way in. “Always for you.” 

His hands were fervent, rubbing and pinching all the right areas to send you quickly towards the edge. 

“Yeah?” He emitted a deep, guttural moan, quickening his rhythm as his hand descended to the spot that you yearned for most. You began nodding your head fervently in response.

Yes. Yes, you’re the only one. You’re the only one I ever want.

“You all wet for him? Hm?” He sneered. “Talking to him got you all hot and bothered?” He was playing with fire.

“No, never,” you were shouting. Needing more. More of him. 

“You’re my little slut, ma chérie?” He groaned in your ear. His hips rapidly picking up the pace. You found yourself utterly incapable of forming a coherent response; the strokes of his cock so deep you were in bliss. Instead, all that escaped your lips were unintelligible groans, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. “Look at you, so cock dumb. Can’t even speak properly.”

It didn’t take much time at all. Your intense desire for him, your deep connection, it all culminated in a swift and intense climax. Him, lost in the same ecstasy as he quickly finishes all over your backside. Dragging his heavy cock over your ass to smear his cum into you.

After a few moments of heavy panting and the gradual return of normal breathing, you finally turned to meet Charles’ gaze. His countenance bore a mix of elation and something more complex, not quite sadness, but perhaps a touch of insecurity.

“Cha, you’re the only one I want.” You confirmed the phrase with a firm kiss to his lips. You felt him smile into it. His hands squeezing any area of your body he grabs onto. As if you would wither into thin air if he didn’t. 

“You’re stuck with me, ma chérie.” He pulled away. “I’m never letting you go.”

[noneorother]

All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part 1*

The Bonkers Meta Series part 2: Electric Boogaloo.

I so rarely get a chance to misuse my experience in classical music, but here we are. When I realized on my most recent watch-through of the series that the David Arnold score was brilliant, but also really wonky in some parts and I couldn’t put my finger on why, @embracing-the-ineffable suggested I listen to the album soundtrack to compare.

And when I tell you what I found hidden in there, you’re going to need Eccles cakes...

1) The Song is the Clue

So right up top we have this banger. The 12th track on the album is the orchestral backdrop to the scene in the Job minisode where Aziraphale reveals Crowley’s crow/goats. The duration is 2:22 (the only track with multiples on the album), and if you look at the track by itself it doesn’t mean much. But the song just before it is actually from this fucking scene:

You know, the one where there’s a song that’s a clue to a mystery. Except Clue is capitalised, and Aziraphale pronounces it. I’ve seen guesses that this is a reference to the movie Clue, but I would put a lot of money on the fact that we are supposed to read the title of the song currently playing at that moment in the show *as a Clue*, which is super convenient, because the word Clue is capitalized in the track listing. 

Seems like the overlords of Good Omens have a message for us : The song is the Clue. It’s what God wants. Cool cool cool. WHAT SONG?

2) Symmetry in all things 

Before I straight up tell you, we have to go back and look at season 1.

Now I’m far from the first to notice tons of parallels between the story, details and even lines in both seasons. It got me thinking that maybe there are some fun synch-up parallels between the two season’s soundtracks, seeing as they are both 6 episodes long. Here’s the end of S1 and then S2

Oh that’s a bummer, I thought to myself. 

They don’t even add up to the same number, or playtime, and neither of them is exactly 60 tracks. But do you want to hear a secret? S2 is actually missing 3 tracks on the album. And because there are 2 discs in S2 (cute), the numbers of the tracks start over again from 1. Remember how much God likes sevens? Check out where all the weirdness is happening in disc 2 (I’ve added the missing track listings in red to add context):

After checking each track with the show and listening side by side (for reasons that will become clear in another post) I can definitively say that there is something *very weird* going on at the end of episode 4. 

First is track 7, Zombie dressing room, which seems to actually reach over two distinct scenes of the photo evidence in the dressing room and then Shax in hell even though it only has one title.

But *between* these two scenes we get an eerily silent wine date with Aziraphale & Crowley.

There’s really no music or even sound here besides the dialogue and room tone (until after the cheers), and it seems like a very intentionally silent version of a ritz date from season 1.

My best guess is that we are supposed to divide that track into two tracks of 7, before and after the date to get a second track 7. Or maybe the silent one is missing music? The third track number 7 is the weirdest one. It’s this scene here, when Nina parks her bike, and Aziraphale parks the car at the end of S2E4.

If you take a close listen to the music, it’s a jaunty little piece, with an oom-pah base in 3 ⁄ 4 time. The thing is, this music does not exist in any Good Omens album. Please feel free to correct me, but I’ve tried to find any part of any song that this could even be a reprise of, and I Shazammed it to be sure it wasn’t anything else. This song does not exist anywhere except in this scene. (It quickly morphs into a reprise of the original theme once Nina leaves Aziraphale). It’s an invisible song.

So we have 3 tracks at the end of S2E4: a long one, a silent one and an invisible one. Only one of which is numbered 7, but that all fit into that place in the track listing.

Which, when we add the two extras to the original total of fifty-nine we get... sixty-one! Hey wait a minute.

How are we going to get to 62?

3) The real missing track. 

So the real reason we had to go back to the S1 album was because it contains the missing track that God is talking about. Let’s compare the last tracks on each album.

I’ve highlighted the mismatch between the in-show music and the album in S2, which means I had to add A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square back into the S2 album because guess what, it’s not in the S2 album. Even though it plays in the show. 

You want to know how not in the album it is? Amazon had to track it in the show as a season 1 song. They had to give Tori Amos credit for her song on Good Omens in the X-ray bonus features because that’s how not in the album this song is.

So my fellow beings, if the song is the Clue, then It’s what God Wants.

And if God wants a happily ever after with Aziraphale and Crowley on their own side, then by Job, I think Neil is going to give it to her.

-----------

And there's more where that came from! Part 2 coming shortly.

[novaursa]

A Lion's Leap (strategic truce)

- Summary: The king announces the betrothal of his youngest daughter, you, to Tyland Lannister. But even the Lannister Lord is taken off guard, as there has been some miscommunication regarding the proposal.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Note: This is the last chapter in this story.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: unplanned, unbroken

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @misspendragonsworld

It was a quiet morning at Casterly Rock—a rare and precious occurrence. Tyland had just poured himself a cup of wine and was savoring the peaceful moment when a raven arrived from King’s Landing. He took the message with a casual nod, but his expression quickly shifted from calm to bewildered as he read through the words penned in Otto Hightower’s unmistakable, formal handwriting.

You looked up from your seat, noticing his frown. “Something troubling, love?”

Tyland cleared his throat, squinting at the letter as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning. “It’s from Otto. He’s… calling for a truce?”

“A truce?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “What on earth could he want a truce for?”

Tyland huffed, waving the parchment around. “Apparently, because our children are ‘terrorizing’ the realm. He says their ‘antics’ are making troop movements and shipments from King’s Landing to the surrounding regions ‘unsafe.’”

You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. “Our children? Causing havoc across the realm? Surely he’s exaggerating.”

“Oh, no, he’s quite specific,” Tyland muttered, skimming the letter with an expression caught between amusement and indignation. “He claims that Alyssa and Daemon ‘swooped upon a supply convoy’ near the Stormlands, scaring the horses and leaving the soldiers fleeing for cover.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “Well, that sounds like them, doesn’t it?”

Tyland gave you a look, though you could tell he was trying not to laugh himself. “And then they apparently decided to ‘escort’ a fleet near Blackwater Bay, which involved them setting a few of the sails on fire ‘for sport,’ as he put it.”

“Setting sails on fire? I must say, they’re getting creative.” You smirked, clearly proud of the havoc your children had been causing.

“Oh, but here’s the best part,” Tyland continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “Otto insists that if we can’t ‘rein in our offspring,’ he’ll be forced to consider drastic measures.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Drastic measures, you say?”

Tyland rolled his eyes. “The man is calling for a truce, all because our children decided to treat the realm like their personal playground. And he has the nerve to ask me, of all people, to ‘bring my household in line.’ As if I’m responsible for the dragons too.”

“Oh, love,” you said, placing a hand on his arm, “don’t be offended. If anything, it’s a compliment. Our children are so much trouble, even Otto Hightower himself is begging us to intervene.”

Tyland scoffed, setting the letter down with an indignant huff. “A truce over two Lannisters and their dragons. The man must be at his wits’ end.”

You grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, if he wanted us on his side, he should have thought of that before conspiring to marry us off in the first place.”

Tyland laughed, though his tone was still tinged with disbelief. “Imagine the gossip in King’s Landing. ‘The Hand of the King forced into negotiation by a pair of Lannister dragonriders.’ If anything, this letter should be framed.”

“Or perhaps,” you suggested, leaning back with a smirk, “we could write back to Otto, saying we’d consider a truce if he sends along a detailed list of all the trouble our children have caused. Just for our amusement.”

Tyland chuckled, clearly amused by the thought. “I’m half-tempted to, just to watch him squirm. But honestly, what does he expect us to do? Chain them to their beds?”

“Perhaps we could suggest a family visit to King’s Landing,” you said with mock seriousness. “Let him deal with the children in person if he thinks it’s so simple.”

Tyland’s eyes gleamed with wicked delight. “Now that might be the finest revenge of all. Can you imagine Otto trying to reason with Daemon and Alyssa?”

You both dissolved into laughter at the image, picturing Otto’s face as he attempted to lecture your children about “proper behavior” while they circled him with dragon-induced chaos. Tyland took a deep breath, finally setting the letter aside.

“Well,” he said, picking up his cup again, “let Otto fret all he likes. A truce over dragon-induced inconveniences… as if that’s going to stop our children.”

You smiled, lifting your own water cup in a toast. “To young Daemon and Alyssa, then. Terrors of the realm and Hightower’s nightmare.”

Tyland clinked his cup against yours, grinning. “May they keep him up at night as much as they’ve kept us entertained.”

And with that, the two of you shared a hearty laugh, knowing that the realm would have to adjust to a new kind of rule—the kind where your children could turn even the Hand of the King into a pleading, desperate negotiator.

In the low lit chambers of the Red Keep, Otto Hightower paced the floor, his face a set in a grimace of frustration as he discussed recent losses with his daughter, Queen Alicent. Aegon lounged nearby, looking thoroughly disinterested as he swirled his goblet of wine, while Aemond stood at the far end of the room, arms crossed and looking particularly annoyed.

“We are losing supplies, morale, and most importantly, patience,” Otto said, his voice taut with irritation. “Those Targaryen-Lannister children are making a mockery of our efforts. Every convoy, every shipment, disrupted or terrorized. It’s becoming untenable.”

Aegon snickered, clearly entertained by the chaos. “Well, Grandsire, who’d have thought you’d be bested by a pair of them? I’d almost feel sorry for you if it weren’t so amusing.”

Alicent shot her son a withering glare. “This is hardly a laughing matter, Aegon. Your throne is at stake.”

Aegon raised his goblet in mock salute. “Yes, and I can clearly see that my throne’s greatest threat is a couple of young dragon-riders playing tag across the realm.”

Aemond’s expression darkened as he glowered into his own drink. “Those… brats,” he muttered, “need a lesson in discipline.”

Otto paused, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against his chin. “Perhaps discipline isn’t the only way to handle them.” He looked pointedly at Aemond. “If we want to avoid further... ‘mishaps,’ perhaps we should consider a strategic marriage.”

Aemond arched an eyebrow, clearly not following. “A strategic marriage?”

“Yes.” Otto’s gaze sharpened, a slight gleam of calculation in his eyes. “You, Aemond, could marry Alyssa. It would bring a certain level of… control over the situation.”

At this, Aemond, in the middle of taking a drink, promptly choked, spraying wine all over the floor. “Marry Alyssa?” he sputtered, looking as if he’d just been told to walk barefoot over hot coals. “You must be joking.”

Aegon burst out laughing, slapping his knee as he watched his brother’s horrified expression. “Now that would be a sight. Aemond, trying to tame a Lannister. Go on, Otto, this is the best suggestion I’ve heard in ages.”

Alicent, still somewhat stunned by the idea, looked at Otto skeptically. “Father, Alyssa is… spirited, to say the least. I doubt she’d easily fall in line.”

Otto shrugged. “Spirited or not, the match would ensure some form of influence over them. And it would bring peace to this absurd game of cat and mouse.”

Aemond, regaining his composure, glared at Otto. “I’d sooner face a battlefield than court that wild dragonling. She has about as much interest in me as I do in playing nursemaid to her mischief.”

Aegon snickered, clearly delighted by the suggestion. “Oh, come now, Aemond. Think of the possibilities. You could spend your days flying after her, trying to keep her from setting more sails on fire.”

Aemond shot his brother a murderous glare. “Not another word, Aegon, or I’ll personally send you to Pentos.”

At the mention of Pentos, Aegon’s face suddenly brightened. “Speaking of which—Mother, Grandfather, I’ve had a rather brilliant idea.”

Alicent sighed, rubbing her temples. “Oh, Seven save us, what now?”

Aegon leaned forward, grinning. “Let’s just… go to Pentos ourselves. Let Rhaenyra have the bloody crown, and we’ll take a nice, quiet life across the Narrow Sea. No throne, no dragons, no pesky nephews and nieces playing aerial games with the troops.”

Alicent looked utterly appalled. “Aegon, that is not an option. The throne is your birthright.”

Aegon shrugged. “Birthright or not, it’s starting to sound like more trouble than it’s worth. Besides, Rhaenyra can keep the realm’s dragons from eating the sheep. Everyone wins.”

Aemond scoffed, looking at his brother as if he’d sprouted two heads. “You would just… leave? After everything?”

Aegon held up his goblet in a toast. “Oh, I’d leave in a heartbeat. No more Otto sending ravens about ‘urgent matters,’ no more dragon antics causing political fallout. Just wine, women, and no more Targaryen infighting. Sounds like paradise, if you ask me.”

Otto’s face darkened. “Paradise or not, this is the Iron Throne we’re talking about, Aegon. You have responsibilities to the realm.”

Aegon waved a dismissive hand. “Responsibilities, sure. But who’s to say the realm wouldn’t be better off with Rhaenyra? Perhaps she’s better suited to handling… unruly cousins.”

Alicent looked horrified, turning to Otto for support. “Father, surely you have a plan to stop this madness. We can’t just hand over the throne.”

Otto, ever the strategist, sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, these… incidents will continue unless we find a way to rein in those children. We’ll need something beyond Aemond’s patience, which appears thin enough as it is.” He glanced back at Aemond, who still looked mutinous about the marriage suggestion.

Aegon laughed again, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Oh, by all means, try your plan, Otto. Maybe a marriage is exactly what Aemond needs to keep him… entertained.”

Aemond shot him a death glare, gripping his goblet so tightly it looked like he might shatter it. “You’ll pay for this amusement, brother.”

Otto, clearly unimpressed with Aegon’s antics, crossed his arms. “Until a more agreeable option presents itself, Aemond, consider the marriage proposal.”

Aemond gritted his teeth. “The day I marry Alyssa Lannister will be the day I willingly set foot in the Dragonpit unarmed.”

Aegon, smirking, raised his goblet in a mocking toast. “To marriage, and to Pentos—where we’d all be much happier.”

Otto and Alicent shared a look of exasperation, but Aegon’s laughter rang out, echoing through the chamber as he toasted his bemused and thoroughly vexed family.

The great hall of Dragonstone was unusually lively as Rhaenyra received a raven with an unexpected invitation—one that bore the official seal of the Hand of the King himself. Her advisors and family gathered around, watching her as she broke the seal and began to read.

Jacaerys, standing close by, looked on with curiosity. “What does it say, Mother?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes scanned the parchment, her brows rising in disbelief. She read aloud: “‘In light of recent… unfortunate incidents caused by young Daemon and Alyssa Lannister, the Hand of the King formally requests a peace meeting between the factions of the Blacks and Greens, to be held at a mutually agreed location.’” She paused, blinking, then added, “‘It is the hope of King Aegon and his council that we may bring an end to hostilities, for the good of the realm.’”

The room fell silent, and then, as if in perfect timing, Daemon—who just returned from Harrenhal—let out a hearty laugh, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “So, it took a couple of Lannisters with dragons to bring Otto Hightower to his knees?”

Rhaenyra smirked, setting the letter down. “It appears that young Daemon and Alyssa have accomplished more mischief than even Otto could handle. They’re practically forcing him into peace talks.”

Baela and Rhaena, standing by with identical smirks, exchanged a glance. “To think,” Baela said, “all it took was some aerial pranks and a bit of ‘creative’ intimidation.”

Jacaerys looked mildly stunned. “Our cousins… forced Otto’s hand? By what? Stealing his supply caravans?”

Daemon grinned, crossing his arms. “Oh, it was much more than that, my boy. They turned half his fleet into smoldering wrecks, and it seems they’ve taken to using his convoys as practice targets. I’d wager Hightower’s had about enough of that.”

Rhaenyra couldn’t suppress her own amusement, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Otto must be beside himself with fury, having to call for peace because of two teenage dragonriders.” She paused, reading the parchment once more. “And to think, he’s phrased it all so… carefully, as though this were a matter of great diplomacy.”

Daemon chuckled, shaking his head. “Diplomacy, my love? No, this is a white flag. Hightower’s waving it desperately before young Daemon and Alyssa burn more of his prized fleets.”

The group shared a round of laughter, the tension in the room melting away at the absurdity of it all. Rhaenyra lifted her chin, her smile transforming into a thoughtful look. “Well, if it means a chance to end this war, perhaps we should consider his invitation. Even if it was coerced.”

Ser Erryk, ever loyal, raised an eyebrow. “Do you think it’s safe, Princess? To trust Otto Hightower?”

Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Safe? Hardly. But if they’re going to such lengths, I say we give them a taste of Targaryen hospitality. We’ll make sure to bring the children along, just as a reminder.”

Rhaenyra grinned. “Oh, yes. I’d like to see Otto’s face when Alyssa and young Daemon arrive.”

Joffrey, always full of energy and rarely still, piped up, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Are we all going? Are we going to show them what real dragons look like?”

Rhaenyra’s smile softened, and she placed a hand on Joffrey’s shoulder. “Not all of us, my love. But perhaps just enough of us to remind them why we are not to be trifled with.”

Daemon chuckled, patting Joffrey’s head. “Just imagine, love—Otto, desperately trying to keep his composure while two Lannister dragons swoop over his head.”

The hall burst into laughter again at the mental image of Otto Hightower, stiff as a board, watching Daemon and Alyssa dart through the sky in mock intimidation. Jacaerys shook his head, clearly still stunned. “It’s unbelievable. Of all the strategies, all the battles, and it’s this that forces his hand?”

Rhaenyra gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps we’ve all been thinking too much like adults. Daemon and Alyssa saw an opportunity we might never have considered. And it seems to have worked.”

Daemon folded his arms, clearly proud. “Oh, I don’t doubt it worked. But let’s be clear—this meeting doesn’t mean we’ll be playing nice. We go with our heads high, our dragons ready, and our terms firmly in place.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her expression resolute. “Exactly. Let Otto stew in his own desperation a bit longer. We’ll make him understand that we are not here to be pacified or bribed. If he wants peace, he’ll have to pay for it.”

As she looked around at her family and allies, she felt a surge of pride. This was her family, her strength, and with Daemon, her children, and her loyal supporters by her side, she knew they were unstoppable. Whatever Otto had planned, she would be ready.

Taking up a fresh sheet of parchment, she began to draft her reply, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Shall we make this… official, then?”

Daemon grinned, standing beside her. “Yes, let’s. And perhaps add a note for young Daemon and Alyssa: ‘Your recent ‘diplomatic efforts’ have not gone unnoticed.’”

The hall echoed with another round of laughter as Rhaenyra wrote, each word crafted with the precision of a queen who knew that, in the end, dragons could win the day—whether they were on the battlefield or in the sky, piloted by a pair of teenage terrors who had turned diplomacy into an art form of mischief.

The Blacks and the Greens had gathered in a neutral castle, the great hall prepared as though it were the stage for some dark comedy.

Rhaenyra and her family arrived in grand fashion, her children flanking her with the reader and Tyland standing proudly beside them. Alyssa and young Daemon both looked particularly pleased with themselves, clearly relishing the fact that their antics had led to this moment. Tyland, meanwhile, looked slightly weary but kept a tight hold on his dignity, which was more than could be said for the other side.

Otto Hightower sat stiffly with Alicent beside him, both looking thoroughly resigned, while Aegon lounged in his chair, clearly bored. Aemond stood nearby, his face a mask of irritation that barely concealed his nerves. He looked over at Alyssa and young Daemon with something that might have been dread mixed with respect.

Otto cleared his throat, his voice strained but formal. “We’re here to discuss the possibility of a lasting peace between our families. It’s clear that the realm suffers each day this conflict continues.”

Rhaenyra gave him a measured nod. “Go on, Otto. Speak your terms.”

Otto shot her a stiff smile, turning to Aemond, then to Alyssa, who stood with her chin held high, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “To secure our peace,” Otto began, choosing his words with care, “I propose that Alyssa Lannister marry Prince Aemond. A union between them would seal our families’ bond and bring stability to Westeros.”

Aemond, sipping from his goblet, choked slightly, shooting his uncle a horrified look. Alyssa, however, seemed entirely unfazed. She arched an eyebrow, considering the proposal with a surprising air of indifference.

“Well,” she said, her tone thoughtful, “I can think of worse matches.” She threw Aemond a mischievous look, watching as his face turned an impressive shade of red.

Aemond set his goblet down a bit too forcefully, looking completely unprepared for her response. “Wait… you’re not objecting?”

Alyssa shrugged, flashing him a challenging smile. “What’s there to object to? I think you’ll find I’m quite a handful.”

Aegon let out a snort, clapping his hands together in mock applause. “This meeting’s already worth it for that alone! Poor Aemond, bound to be outwitted by a Lannister.” He leaned back, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”

Rhaenyra, regaining her composure, steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. “That’s all very charming, Otto,” she said, eyes narrowing, “but what of the throne?”

Aegon, as if waiting for this moment, waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, the throne.” He sighed heavily, looking every bit the bored king. “Honestly, Rhaenyra, if you want it so badly, you can have it. Helaena and I have been talking, and we’re quite eager to go on a grand tour—explore the realm, visit Essos. The crown’s just been…” He searched for the word. “Dull.”

Alicent’s mouth fell open, and Otto’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple. “Aegon!” Alicent hissed. “This is not the time for foolish jokes!”

But Aegon just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Mother, I’m completely serious. Rhaenyra here wants the Iron Throne, I’d prefer to see the rest of the world, and honestly, it feels like a win for everyone. Besides, maybe ruling will be as dull for her as it was for me. Then we can all laugh about it.”

Rhaenyra shot him a look that was equal parts baffled and amused. “You mean to say… you’d give up the throne?”

Aegon raised his goblet in a mock toast. “Absolutely. All yours, dear sister. I’ll keep the crown as a keepsake, of course. Just a souvenir.”

Otto’s head snapped toward Tyland and you, who were quietly watching the entire display with mild amusement. Otto’s eyes narrowed, noticing your advanced pregnancy, the way you held your hand to your back as if the strain was weighing on you.

“How many children are you planning to have?” Otto asked, his voice coming out in a strained whisper as he watched Tyland’s relaxed, almost smug expression.

Tyland feigned surprise, putting a thoughtful hand to his chin. “Oh, I’d say… six? Or perhaps a full dozen? It’s hard to say, really. We do seem to have a knack for growing the family, don’t we, love?”

You shot Tyland an amused look, catching the glint of jest in his eye, and nodded with a sly smile. “Who knows, Otto? It may end up being more. Dragons and Targaryens have a way of multiplying.”

Otto looked positively stricken, his face ashen as he contemplated the idea of even more dragon-wielding Lannisters tearing across the realm.

Alicent glanced at her father, noting the horror on his face. “Father, I think… perhaps we should have prepared for this meeting differently.”

Otto shot her a look of exasperation. “Oh, trust me, Alicent. I had preparations… but nothing could have prepared me for this family.”

Tyland leaned over, lowering his voice just enough for Otto to hear. “Now, Otto, think of it as… population growth. A sign of peace and prosperity.”

Otto closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. But before he could say anything more, Rhaenyra turned back to him, her voice calm but steely.

“Well, Otto,” she said, “it seems you’ve gotten what you wanted—a union, peace, and a clear path to the throne. Just as you planned, isn’t it?”

Otto’s mouth opened, then closed, clearly at a loss. He looked around at the grinning Aegon, the smug Tyland, the mischievous Alyssa, and the serene Y/N, and finally slumped in his chair, thoroughly defeated.

“Yes,” he muttered, almost to himself, “exactly as I planned.”

And as the room filled with laughter and smirks, it was clear to everyone present that the Greens had lost not just a battle, but their last shred of dignity as well.

The grand hall was alive with music and laughter as the great celebration for Alyssa’s and Aemond’s wedding reached its peak. Lords and ladies from all corners of the realm raised their goblets in toast after toast, their voices mingling with the melodies played by the musicians. Even Aegon, normally so indifferent to royal festivities, seemed genuinely amused as he clinked goblets with guests, a lazy smile on his face.

But amid the revelry, there was one figure notably absent: you, the bride’s mother.

Instead of joining the festivities, you were in a nearby chamber giving birth, a fact that had drawn murmurs of both awe and concern among the guests. Tyland, ever the loyal husband, had been in the room with you as long as possible, pacing and muttering encouragement, though it was clear he was barely holding himself together.

Outside, however, there was another spectacle in full swing. Viseron, your son Daemon’s dragon, was trying his very best to stick his massive bronze head through the doors of the great hall from the courtyard. Every now and then, the dragon’s golden-green eye would peek through the doorway, much to the terror of Ser Criston Cole and his men, who were trying—without much success—to deter the curious beast from sticking his snout into the festivities.

“Back! Go on, shoo!” Ser Criston waved his arms frantically, his usually stern expression replaced by one of pure desperation.

Viseron, unimpressed, tilted his head, letting out a low rumble that sent half of Criston’s men scrambling for cover. The dragon huffed, smoke billowing from his nostrils, making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of being shooed away from whatever curious noises were happening inside the hall.

Just as Ser Criston was about to wave for more reinforcements, the doors swung open, and Tyland burst into the great hall, his face flushed but positively beaming. He cleared his throat, shouting above the din of the party, “My lords and ladies, it is my pleasure to announce… that my wife has given birth!”

A cheer rose through the hall, goblets raised as shouts of congratulations filled the air. Tyland held up a hand, grinning. “And not only that—twins! A son and a daughter!”

The hall erupted in another round of cheers, even louder than the first. Guests raised their glasses, laughing and clapping, and Aegon whistled, clearly entertained by the news. “Twins, you say?” he called out, smirking. “Well done, Tyland! Twice the dragons, twice the trouble!”

Tyland chuckled, but his smile faltered slightly as he caught sight of Prince Daemon standing up from his seat at the high table, a smirk on his face and… two dragon eggs, one in each hand.

“I thought this moment might come soon,” Daemon declared with a glint in his eye, holding up the eggs for all to see. “So I brought these along in case. Gifts for the newest Targaryens.”

Tyland’s face turned several shades paler, and he nearly dropped his goblet. “Daemon… two dragon eggs?” His voice was barely more than a squeak as he looked at the eggs, which gleamed with fiery hues under the candlelight.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, you have two new children, don’t you? It seems only fitting they each have an egg of their own.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the hall as guests exchanged knowing smiles. Tyland’s eyes darted to the dragon eggs, then to Daemon, then back to the eggs as if calculating just how much more chaos his household could take.

“I… well, I appreciate the thought,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, “but perhaps we could… delay the dragon gifts just a little bit?”

Daemon smirked, stepping forward and placing the eggs on a cloth-covered table, the heat from them palpable even from a distance. “Come now, Tyland. You married into this family. This is what you signed up for.”

Aegon, lounging nearby, raised his goblet in a toast. “Here’s to more dragons! I say the realm’s overdue for a few more fire-breathing beasts.”

The guests laughed and clinked glasses, while Tyland cast a sidelong glance at his son Daemon and daughter Alyssa, who were clearly relishing their father’s discomfort. Alyssa leaned over to her brother, her voice loud enough for Tyland to hear. “What do you think, Daemon? Shall we teach the twins dragon-riding as soon as they can walk?”

Young Daemon grinned, casting his father a wicked smile. “Absolutely. We’ll have them in saddles by the time they’re talking.”

Tyland looked as if he were about to faint, muttering something about needing a very strong drink. But before he could escape, Prince Daemon clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. “You’ll be fine, Tyland. Look at it this way—you’re helping to rebuild the Targaryen legacy one dragon at a time.”

In the background, Viseron took another try at sticking his head through the doorway, sending a plume of smoke wafting into the hall. Ser Criston’s desperate shouts were barely audible over the cheers and laughter, and one could only imagine the chaos waiting outside as the dragon continued to persist in his curiosity.

Tyland sighed, resigning himself to his fate, raising his goblet one last time in a toast. “To family, to dragons… and to surviving this mad, mad world.”

The hall echoed with laughter as the celebration continued, and somewhere in the crowd, someone muttered, “Only a Targaryen wedding would end with two new dragons on the way and a dragon trying to join the party.”

And with that, the revelry resumed, leaving Tyland with the knowledge that his family—and his household—was about to become more chaotic, more fiery, and far more unforgettable than he had ever anticipated.

[mononijikayu]

"i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you." — gojo satoru.

And now, you realize how human Gojo Satoru was. How normal he was. How tender he was for a world that was not the same towards him. You sighed, parting from him slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a look towards you, as though searching for the universe behind your lilac eyes.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: in another life by son lux

NOTE: waiting for my meds to kick in and i saw the clip from everything everywhere all at once where waymond says, 'in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you' and i just thought of them....thought of genmei (you) and satoru, just enjoying this sort of life. very short but this is one to warm your heart. let's remember satoru as the man he was. as the loving human being who was fun and generous and tender. i'll be doing this for a while. until i get my head straight. in a way, this is how i'll mourn him. by remembering him lovingly <333

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU ALWAYS LIKED HAVING SATORU AROUND THE HOUSE. Your husband was if anything — always not at home. Even if he’d like to be, it’s not up to him. And you as much as he does, hated it. You’d always understood that. You could never feel hate for Satoru about things he genuinely could not control. 

In these past few years of marriage, you were lucky if he could get the Sundays off. He’d always made the point to the higher–ups that he would never answer calls on that day. He’d like to focus on being around you, being around Tsumiki and Megumi — to be as present as possible.

But in the past few years, the number of curses had dramatically increased and the number of professional sorcerers had dwindled. Of course, you yourself felt some guilt in that. You yourself have taken a leave for almost two years now, having followed in Nanami’s footsteps. Even now,  principal Gakuganji has been pressuring you for your return each and every day. But you flat out refused each and every turn, every call, every message. Satoru did not fault you for it, he understood.

Considering that you had wanted to be more attentive in giving Tsumiki and Megumi an active presence in their lives. You wanted that for Satoru too. You wanted him to know that there was always someone waiting for him to come home. That there was going to be someone that was willing to stay awake, yearning for him to return every day and every night. He had always been so gleeful about that — smug even. 

Because he had something to live for. He had something to look forward to when the days get rough with the amount of curses he’d have to go through left and right. He didn’t mind that your duties in the jujutsu world became his own. What mattered was that he had Megumi and Tsumiki and you, his precious wife.. He couldn’t ask for anything more.  He’d brag to Shoko and his sister about how he had someone waiting for him to come home. 

"You know," Satoru began, a playful glint in his eye, "I brag to Shoko and my sister about how I have someone waiting for me to come home."

You looked up from the cutting board, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, really? And what exactly do you tell them?"

He grinned, leaning casually against the counter. "I tell them about how you're always here, making the place feel like home. How you cook amazing dinners and make sure everything runs smoothly."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "You're exaggerating, Satoru. I'm just doing what anyone would."

He shook his head, his expression turning more serious. "No, you're not. You make all the difference. Coming home to you... it's everything. It makes all the craziness worth it."

Your heart warmed at his words, and you set down the knife, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. "Well, for the record, I brag about you too."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? To whom? And what do you say?"

“To the mothers at Tsumiki and Megumi’s school,” You grinned at him. "I tell them about how my precious husband always manages to juggle being the busiest person I know and still you always make time for me, even when you're exhausted. And how you make me feel safe and loved, no matter what. How you make Tsumiki and Megumi feel happy and safe—seen and cared for.”

Satoru's cerulean eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you feel that way. Because that's all I want—for you to feel safe and loved."

You squeezed his hand, the connection between you palpable in the quiet kitchen. "I do, Satoru. Every day."

He smiled, the kind that lit up his entire face. "Good. Because I plan on bragging about you for a long time."

And so, now that he also gets calls on Sundays, Gojo Satoru makes the most of anything and everything — every moment was important for him to measure up to. Today was one of those rare, precious days off for your husband, and you both intended to savor every moment of it. 

The usually bustling Gojo residence was quiet and peaceful, with Tsumiki and Megumi still out for the day. They were still in school, doing some more club activities. Megumi took up baseball, while Tsumiki took on band music. So you and Satoru wouldn’t have to go to school until 5:30 pm. It was only 4:00pm. And so you were adamant to start prepping for dinner — so that when you all got home, the hotpot would just need some cooking. You were there again in your turf, the kitchen, as you hummed a song that’s been stuck in your head for a while. 

As you sliced the vegetables with practiced ease, you could hear your husband Satoru enter the room. He had taken off his usual blindfold, and opted for his round dark glasses. Your husband had a habit of taking even the round glasses when he’s around you. But you know it hurts his head to even do so. 

He’d pout and he’d stomp all about, saying how he just wanted to see how pretty you were. But you always stood your ground. Still, you could still feel how revealing those striking blue eyes glaring at you even when they’re covered up. They always seemed to see right through you. 

Satoru sighed contentedly, his thumb still gently brushing over your knuckles as he watched you chop. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was soothing, a small anchor in the storm of your lives. His presence beside you felt like a protective shield, his love and strength enveloping you like a warm embrace. He leaned against the counter, watching you with a contented smile. The quiet hum of domesticity felt foreign yet comforting.

"You know," he said softly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "Sometimes I envy the ordinary people. They have no idea about the world we live in, the dangers we face. Their biggest concerns are mundane things like bills and grocery lists."

You looked at him, a somber smile on your lips. "It's the simplicity we crave, isn't it? The idea of living a life where our biggest worry is what's for dinner, not the next life-or-death battle."

Satoru's cerulean eyes sparkled for a moment. "Exactly, y’know? Rare for us to get moments where we can pretend, just for a little while, that we're just like everyone else."

You smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for the man standing beside you. "And those rare moments mean everything. They remind us why we fight, why we keep going."

He pulls at your other hand, taking it to his own as you gasped. He presses a kiss on your palm. "You always know how to put things into perspective."

“You know, you don’t bring up these things unless you’re thinking a lot.”

He grins. “Oh, but who says I’m thinking a lot?"

“My love, I’ve known you long enough to know you only talk when you feel like you can’t keep it inside anymore.” You say, putting your knife aside and squeezing the hand he occupies with his own. ”Tell me, what's on your mind?"

He hesitated as he stayed silent. He didn’t know how to say it, having to close and then open his mouth. Satoru was just like that too, when you met him. He took a moment before he just sighed deeply, his expression softening. 

"I don't want to be doing this anymore," he said quietly, almost to himself.

You stopped mid–chop and turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. "Doing what?" you asked, needing clarification.

"This!" he repeated, gesturing vaguely around him in the empty space like a mad man."Well, not our life. That’s the best part. But I’m…… I’m always away and I miss this, y’know? I miss having to just be here. Enjoying this. I miss it a lot, darling.”

“Satoru, my love,  you can’t help it if you’re busy.” You say to him tenderly, sending him a soft smile. “That’s your job.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” He says as he lowers his gaze, his lips tight in a prominent pout. He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that it’s wishful thinking but I just…y’know? What if I don’t have to? What if I just left? What if we just got to Hida and hid forever? All the fighting, the constant danger……the weight of being the strongest. It’s taxing, darling.”

You looked at him, your eyes echoing pain at his words. You walked over to him, his bright blue eyes not leaving your own lilac ones. You opened your arms and knowing Infinity is down when he’s with you, wrapped your arms around him. He settles in your touch rather quickly, resting his chin against your shoulder as he wrapped his own strong arms against your own.

“Is that what you want?” You ask him in a small whisper, looking at him as though trying to make sure he’s sure. “Would you not regret leaving it all behind?”

“I want this, I'm sure I am." he continued, his voice taking on a more wistful tone. “I’m sure I am.”

“But what about your work—”

“I just…” He leans against you even more. "This little suburban, quaint type of the normal sort of peace. All I want in life.  I don’t wanna hear the depths of some curse’s stimulation, darling. Just…. Just wanna hear your breath or the rhythm you have when you chop the veggies for the hotpot. ‘miki’s violin strings when she practices before breakfast, ‘gumi’s little chants in secret when he watches the baseball league by himself. Just…..just want this.”

If you hadn’t fallen for him years ago, you think you would have fallen for him now. His words hung in the air, heavy with longing and sincerity. Your heart was enraptured by him, completely. 

It was always hard for Satoru to be honest with his feelings. You’ve known that the first time you met him, when Yaga forced you to check on your new special grade sorcerers. When he first spoke to you, all of his words sounded ever so pretentious. Annoyingly so. But over time, you realized much about him. You learned much about him. You started to embrace him. 

And now, you realize how human Gojo Satoru was. How normal he was. How tender he was for a world that was not the same towards him. You sighed, parting from him slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a look towards you, as though searching for the universe behind your lilac eyes. 

"Gojo Satoru," you said softly, your eyes searching for him beneath all that cerulean hue. "I swear to you, my love,  this life or the next — in another life, I would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you."

He chuckled, a soft, genuine sound that made your heart swell. His cheeks were red scarlet as he looked at you bashfully. His cerulean eyes seemed to grow even brighter, reflecting the depth of his love for you.  He presses his cheek against your shoulder, resting there for a moment as though to just let his warmth be felt by your own skin. To let you know, even his warmth was for you.

"Me too." he admitted, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I imagine a life where the biggest worry we have is what to make for dinner or whether we should wash the whites separately."

You smiled, the simplicity of the idea bringing a sense of warmth and peace. "That sounds perfect."

Satoru's gaze softened as he leaned in closer. "You know, I think about that sometimes. A life without all the chaos, just us. It’s nice to dream, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," you whispered, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "But even in this life, come what may, I'm grateful to have you for all of it. I couldn’t have asked for anything more."

His fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise of his unwavering support. "And I'm grateful to have you, darling. You really are my dream, you know?”

You both laughed, the sound mingling with the quiet of the room. The idea of such a mundane life felt strangely appealing, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that defined your existence now. But at that moment, it was a dream worth holding onto.

"Maybe one day, we’ll have it." you said, squeezing his hand. "It’s not impossible, hm?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and determination. "Yeah, it’s not.”

For now, though, you both knew your responsibilities were far from over. The weight of the jujutsu world and its relentless demands pressed heavily on your shoulders, but this stolen moment of peace, this shared dream of a simpler life, was enough to sustain you through the battles yet to come.

“I love you, Satoru. Whatever happens.”

He grins at you, kissing your cheek tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. Always and forever.”

You were living the best of life, loving him.

epilogue

The aroma of the hotpot filled the kitchen, promising a delicious meal. You and Satoru were still wrapped in your own little world, working together seamlessly as you finished up the preparations. Meanwhile, in the dining room, Tsumiki and Megumi were setting the table, so that you can eat soon after the hotpot is cooked and done.

Tsumiki hummed happily as she placed the plates and utensils, a bright smile on her face. "It's so nice to see them like this," she said, glancing back towards the kitchen where Satoru was playfully teasing you as you stirred the pot. “its so lovely again!"

Megumi, however, was less than thrilled. He sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping as he set down the last of the chopsticks. "I swear, Gojo-san is like a clingy puppy. It's like he can't do anything without being attached to her."

Tsumiki giggled, nudging her brother. "Oh, come on, Megumi. It's sweet. They're happy, and that's all that matters."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I guess. But do they have to be so... mushy about it?"

Just then, Satoru's laughter echoed from the kitchen. "Hey, be careful! You almost burned my hand!" he teased, making you laugh in response. “Darling!~”

“Satoru, be careful or the pot will fall!”

“Ah, but I wanna hug you some more!”

“The kids won’t have dinner if I crash on this pot! Satoru—"

"Blegh! Just one more squeeze! Stop pushing me back!"

"Gojo Satoru, if we starve tonight, it would be your fault!"

Tsumiki placed the last napkin on the table and turned to Megumi, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? Everything is right in the world when they're like this. Besides, it's good to see Satoru–san relaxed for once."

Megumi sighed in feign annoyance. But Tsumiki was sure that there was a hint of affection in his eyes as he watched Satoru lean over to kiss your cheek. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right……As long as they're happy, I guess…..we’ll be able to deal with it."

As you and Satoru brought the steaming hotpot to the table, Tsumiki clapped her hands together. "Dinner is ready! Everything looks delicious. Thank you so much for your hard work!”

Satoru beamed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "All thanks to my amazing partner here," he said, giving you a squeeze. “We can eat well tonight!”

You smiled in tandem with your blush, playfully swatting his arm. "And the help of our wonderful family."

Megumi shook his head. "Alright, enough with the love fest. Let's eat."

Tsumiki giggled, taking her seat. "Don't worry, Megumi. One day, you'll find someone who makes you as happy as they make each other."

Satoru smirked, ruffling Megumi's hair. "Yeah, and then we'll tease you mercilessly about it.”

Megumi groaned, swatting Satoru's hand away. "Shut up!”

“Darling, our son’s being mean to me again~”

You smiled at both of them. “I’m not getting involved!”

“But darling!”

[allybxtch]

Secret Night Escape

bakugo x reader

The night had fallen over the U.A. dorms, and silence reigned in the hallways. Y/N was in her room, looking at herself in the mirror, adjusting her jacket with a mix of excitement and curiosity bubbling inside her. Katsuki had sent her a cryptic message earlier, something completely unexpected. “Be ready by 11 PM. Don’t ask, just come.” It wasn’t like him to do something like that, especially with such a mysterious vibe. Though she tried to appear indifferent, her heart beat a little faster just thinking about what he might have planned.

Minutes before the designated time, Y/N slipped out of her room, making sure no one saw her as she stealthily made her way to the rooftop of the building. As she got closer, the cool night air wrapped around her, calming her nerves a bit. When she opened the door to the rooftop, she was greeted by a scene that left her speechless.

Katsuki was there, his back to her, but what caught her attention most was the setup he had prepared. Under the soft glow of the stars, a small but cozy tent was set up near the edge of the rooftop. There were a couple of blankets spread out on the ground, surrounded by a few fairy lights that glimmered faintly, like extra stars. On one of the blankets was a small box of snacks, some water bottles and juice, and a thermos that seemed to contain something warm. Katsuki, with his typical carefree air, was adjusting the lights with a focused expression.

“What… what is all this?” Y/N asked, approaching with a smile of disbelief as she looked around. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Katsuki turned when he heard her voice, a lopsided grin appearing on his face, the kind of smile he only showed when they were alone, away from the curious eyes of others.

“What does it look like, dummy?” he replied with that teasing tone he had learned to soften just for her. “It’s Friday, we’ve got the whole weekend, and I figured it’s better to hang out up here than be surrounded by those idiots.”

Y/N chuckled softly, stepping closer, and she could tell that, though he tried to act casual, he had put considerable effort into organizing everything. This wasn’t just an improvised getaway; there was something deeper behind his actions. Katsuki watched her for a few seconds, admiring how the light of the stars and the tiny fairy lights highlighted her hair, then gestured toward the tent.

“What, you don’t like it?” he asked, though there was a hint of insecurity in his tone, something he rarely let show.

“Are you kidding me? I love it, it’s…,” Y/N searched for the right words as she moved even closer to him, “perfect.”

Katsuki visibly relaxed, though he tried to hide it with a scoff.

“Of course it is. I made it, what’d you expect?”

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing and let Katsuki take her hand, guiding her to the blankets spread on the ground. They sat comfortably, and Katsuki started pulling out some of the snacks, offering Y/N her favorites—something she didn’t miss.

“Did you really plan all this?” she asked, looking at him with a mix of surprise and affection.

Katsuki let out a low laugh, his hand fiddling with one of the nearby lights as he gazed up at the starry sky.

“Yeah, well… I figured you deserved it. After everything that’s happened lately,” he said quietly, referring to the recent missions and the dangers they both had faced. His tone grew more serious as he continued, “I wanted you to relax a bit. You need a break.”

Y/N looked at him closely, seeing the concern hidden behind his arrogant facade. She knew that since the mission with the rough villain, something had changed in him. There was a new fear in Katsuki, something he tried to hide but couldn’t always control. She had seen it in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing, in the nights he woke up from nightmares, his eyes filled with panic.

“You okay?” she asked gently, scooting a little closer to him. Their hands met, and though he was usually the one to take the initiative, this time it was Y/N who intertwined her fingers with Katsuki’s.

“Pft. ‘Course I am. I just wanted to be alone with you, away from… all that.” He waved a hand in a gesture that encompassed everything else. “Just the two of us.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward but filled with mutual understanding. Katsuki looked at her again, his eyes burning with a different kind of fire than he usually showed in battle or training. This one was softer, warmer, and when he spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper.

“I hate thinking about what could’ve happened to you that day. If you hadn’t found the strength to push that bastard away…” His voice cracked for a second, something Y/N didn’t miss.

“But I did, Kats. I’m here, right?” she said with a calm smile, trying to reassure him.

“Yeah, but…” Katsuki turned away, his jaw tightening. “I can’t stand the idea of losing you. You don’t know how fucking hard it was to see you lying there, not moving.”

Y/N, her heart tightening, gently took his chin, forcing him to look at her again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Katsuki. I promise.”

For a moment, his hardened expression seemed to soften. Then, with a quick, determined movement, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. Y/N barely had time to react before their lips met in a slow, deep kiss, one that seemed to speak all the emotions he couldn’t put into words.

The kiss was sweet, different from the usual ones they shared, and when they pulled apart, Katsuki rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed.

“You’re a stubborn idiot,” he murmured, his voice full of affection, “but you’re my stubborn idiot.”

Y/N laughed softly, cuddling closer into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. The night continued to move forward, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. They were alone, under the stars, with all the time in the world.

“And you, Katsuki Bakugo, are an adorable idiot,” she teased, running her fingers through the back of his hair. His laughter echoed into the air, but it quickly faded when Katsuki looked at her again, a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” His voice dropped a few tones as he pulled her even closer. “Then how about I show you just how adorable I can be?”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he gently laid her down on the blankets, positioning himself beside her and looking down at her with a mix of flirtation and affection he rarely showed.

“Katsuki…” Y/N barely managed to say before he interrupted her with another kiss, this one more passionate, more intense.

The night continued on, and as the stars sparkled above them, Katsuki and Y/N forgot the outside world, focusing only on each other, on their little secret escape. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

heyyy, how’s everyone? I’ve been a bit busier than usual, can you believe it’s already october? crazy. I thought of this while I was getting ready for bed. hope you guys like it! ∩^ω^∩