#a toll of the emotions and decisions and look to him

[deathfavor]

@yeonban said: do you need a hug? / Shal & Chrollo... either after Uvo's/Paku's deaths or after his own & Kortopi's!

It should be a simple answer in theory. But Chrollo Lucilfer is a ghost, and things are rarely simple when it comes to phantoms and spirits. He is a ghost to the world, existing despite the fact that there is no hard proof - no birth certificate, no records, nothing. One simply has to have faith in the fact his is real. Not unlike faith in a god, not unlike faith in a ghost or demon. He is a greater ghost to himself than to the world. He is his own holy church and Hadean prison. Haunted and spectre all in one.

Shalnark's question provokes a moment of reposeful reflection within himself. Does he need a hug? What does he need? Unlike a piece of ancient machinery or mathematical equation, there is no formula to dissect the essence of the human soul. It is not so simply as solving an equation or inputting into a calculator or generator. It will not yield the answer in clear ink and crisp paper. Far too fickle for such limiting constraints.

This is a choice made by sensation. It is made by faith and trust. It is made not by cold and precise calculation, but the spirit's song in cathedral pillars.

" I think so. " Chrollo answers when he's settled upon his truth. There is no right or wrong, there is not even truth and lie. There is what is perceived as his truth and what is not. This answer feels right despite the fact he can neither explain what makes it right nor how he has come to the conclusion: it merely is.

No one has asked this of Chrollo. They look to him with expectation and he strides forward. He wonders if he has lost some fragments of himself somewhere in this approach. Has he left behind pieces of him that needed something? He will never know. All he can know is that this will not be one of those times.

" I do. " He solidifies his answer after a heartbeat passes. He knows Shalnark too ; he would not pose such a question towards him without understanding the possible ramifications of it.

Chrollo still lingers a moment, haunting the threshold of the invitation before he accepts it. He steps closer and sinks into the waiting embrace and it feels like coming home. Everything is not as it once was, time has worn the pillars and sealings, but it is no less a home for that. It is always what the troupe is. For all the blood spilled and crimes committed, Chrollo has always been at his best when he is not adrift at sea, but with someone. Be it the whole troupe, a handful, or just one. He finds himself there in a way he doesn't elsewhere.

He closes his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a momentarily reprieve from the cross-like burden of leader for a brief moment. He would not trade the cross for anything, and Chrollo is a master at concealing the skeletal fractures that sometimes splinter out. But Shalnark is just as sharp to see most of them when they happen to crack and appear. ( And in truth, all of this has pushed him towards an intensity of emotion he is not familiar with. ) He allows himself this time to rest in the safety of Shalnark's embrace. He's warm and alive.

" Thank you. "

[pucksandpower]

Rock and A Hard Place

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix has your protective side clawing to the surface

Lando trudges into his driver’s room, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. The scent of champagne clings to him, a bitter reminder of the podium celebration he’d just endured. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he closes the door behind him, shutting out the world and its expectations.

You’re already there, waiting for him. Your eyes soften as you take in his dejected posture. “Hey, champ,” you say softly, approaching him with open arms.

Lando looks up, his eyes meeting yours. There’s a storm of emotions swirling in those color changing depths — disappointment, anger, and a hint of relief at seeing you. “Some champ I am,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you wrap your arms around him.

“You finished P2. That’s still amazing,” you remind him, your voice gentle but firm. Your hands move to the zipper of his race suit, slowly peeling away the champagne-soaked fabric.

Lando lets out a bitter laugh. “Second place is just the first loser, isn’t it?” He winces as he moves his arms, the physical toll of the race finally catching up with him.

You shake your head, helping him out of the suit. “That’s not true and you know it. You fought hard out there.”

“I fought, alright,” Lando agrees, his voice tinged with frustration. “Fought with the team, fought with Will, fought with Oscar ...” He trails off, shaking his head.

As you help him step out of the suit, you can feel the tension radiating off him. “Talk to me, love. What happened out there?”

Lando sinks down onto the small couch in the room, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “It was all going so well at the start. Pole position, you know? I thought ... I really thought this could be it.”

You sit beside him, your hand finding his. “And then?”

“Oscar had a better start,” Lando explains, his free hand gesticulating as he speaks. “He took the lead, and I was right behind him. We were flying, both of us. But then the team ...” He pauses, swallowing hard.

“What did the team do?” You prompt gently, your thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his hand.

Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of hurt and confusion in them. “They told me to pit before Oscar. I undercut him, took the lead. I thought ... I thought they were backing me for the win.”

You nod, encouraging him to continue. The pain in his voice is palpable, and your heart aches for him.

“But then they started pushing for a swap,” Lando continues, his voice rising slightly. “They wanted me to give the position back to Oscar. Can you believe that? After I’d fought so hard to get there?”

“That must have been so frustrating,” you say softly, squeezing his hand.

Lando nods vigorously. “It was! I mean, I get team orders, I do. But this ... it felt like they were playing with me. One minute they’re helping me get ahead, the next they want me to give it all up.”

“Did you argue with them?” You ask, though you already know the answer from the tension in his body.

“For laps,” Lando admits, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Will probably has a headache from all my yelling. But in the end ... in the end, I had to do it. Three laps from the end, I let Oscar by.”

You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder. “That must have been a really tough decision.”

Lando’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer. “It was. I ... I know it was the right thing to do for the team. But it hurts, you know? To be so close and then ...”

“And then have it slip away,” you finish for him. “I can’t imagine how that feels.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “It feels like shit, if I’m honest,” he finally says, a weak laugh escaping him.

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “But you did it anyway. That takes a lot of strength. A lot of maturity.”

He shrugs, but you can see a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Maybe. Still doesn’t feel great, though.”

“I know,” you say, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “But I’m so proud of you. Not just for the podium, but for how you handled everything.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm. “You showed real team spirit out there. And let’s not forget, you started on pole. That’s incredible in itself.”

A small smile starts to form on Lando’s lips. “It was a pretty good qualifying, wasn’t it?”

You grin, nodding enthusiastically. “It was amazing. You were flying around that track like it was your personal playground.”

Lando’s smile grows, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I did feel pretty good yesterday. Like I could do no wrong.”

“Because you’re talented, Lando,” you remind him, your voice warm with affection. “So incredibly talented. One race doesn’t change that.”

He looks at you, his eyes softening. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

You shrug, a playful smirk on your lips. “It’s a gift. Plus, I happen to be your biggest fan.”

Lando chuckles, the sound warming your heart. “My biggest fan, huh? I thought that was Zak.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Zak’s got nothing on me. I’ve got the inside scoop on Lando Norris.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning. “And what’s that?”

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “That he’s not just an incredible driver, but also the kindest, funniest, most amazing person I know.”

Lando’s cheeks flush slightly, but his eyes are bright as they meet yours. “You’re biased,” he accuses, but there’s no heat in his words.

“Guilty as charged,” you admit with a grin. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Lando’s hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs.

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” you reply, leaning into his touch.

For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence, the earlier tension gradually dissipating. Then Lando speaks again, his voice softer now. “You know, even with everything that happened ... standing on that podium, I couldn’t help but think about how far we’ve come. The team, I mean.”

You nod encouragingly. “It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it?”

“God, yes,” Lando agrees, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “Remember when getting into Q3 was a big deal? And now we’re fighting for wins, getting double podiums ...”

“It’s incredible,” you say, your voice filled with genuine awe. “You should be so proud of the part you’ve played in that.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, considering your words. “I am,” he finally says, a note of surprise in his voice. “I really am. It’s just ... sometimes it’s hard to see the big picture.”

You nod, understanding. “That’s why you’ve got me. To remind you of how far you’ve come when you’re too close to see it yourself.”

Lando’s arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You grin up at him. “You were just you. That’s more than enough.”

Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with the room temperature. “I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, heart swelling with affection. “Forever and ever.”

As you lean in to kiss him, you can feel the last of the tension leaving Lando’s body. The disappointment of the race isn’t forgotten, but it’s faded into the background, overshadowed by the love and support between you.

When you finally pull apart, Lando’s smiling — a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “You know,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice, “I think I might need some help getting this champagne off me. Fancy a shower?”

You laugh, standing up and offering him your hand. “Lead the way. I hear you’re pretty good at that.”

As Lando takes your hand, his earlier frustration seems a distant memory. There will be other races, other chances for victory. But right now, in this moment, he has everything he needs — the love of his life, a promising career, and the knowledge that no matter what happens on track, he always has a home to come back to in your arms.

***

The soft glow of candlelight flickers across the table, casting dancing shadows on Lando’s face as he leans in, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. “You know,” he says, his voice low and playful, “I think I might actually be hungry enough to eat everything on this menu.”

You laugh, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Everything? Even the fish?”

Lando’s nose wrinkles, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Okay, maybe not everything. But close enough.”

The restaurant buzzes with quiet conversation around you, a contrast to the chaos of the track earlier in the day. It’s a small, intimate place, tucked away from the main streets of Budapest — a hidden gem Lando discovered during one of his previous visits to the city.

“I’m just glad we managed to sneak out without anyone recognizing us,” you say, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers with his. “It’s nice to have you all to myself for a change.”

Lando’s thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes soft in the candlelight. “Trust me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

As the waiter approaches with your drinks — a local craft beer for Lando and a colorful cocktail for you — Lando’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, a small frown creasing his brow.

“Everything okay?” You ask, concern coloring your voice.

Lando nods, but there’s a hint of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Yeah, just ... social media’s going a bit mad about the race. Some people aren’t too happy about how it played out.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Hey, look at me. What matters is that you did what was best for the team. That takes real strength.”

Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of gratitude and lingering doubt in them. “I know, I just ... sometimes I wonder if I made the right call.”

Before you can respond, a loud voice cuts through the restaurant’s gentle ambiance. “Oi! Is that Lando Norris?”

Lando stiffens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as you both turn to see a man stumbling towards your table. The strong smell of alcohol precedes him, and his eyes are slightly unfocused as he points an accusatory finger at Lando.

“It is you!” The man slurs, swaying slightly as he reaches your table. “The guy who gave up the win. What kind of racer does that, eh?”

Lando takes a deep breath, his media training kicking in as he forces a polite smile. “I’m sorry, mate, but we’re trying to have a private dinner here. Maybe we could chat another time?”

The man ignores him, his voice rising. “Nah, I wanna talk now. You know what? None of the greats would’ve done what you did today. Senna wouldn’t have moved over. Schumacher wouldn’t have. Hell, even Hamilton wouldn’t have.”

You can see Lando’s jaw clenching, his earlier good mood evaporating. “Look, I understand you’re upset, but-”

“Upset?” The man interrupts, laughing bitterly. “I’m not upset, I’m disappointed. You had a chance to prove yourself today, and you blew it. That’s why you’ll never be a world champion.”

The words hit Lando like a physical blow. You watch as he flinches, the doubt and self-recrimination from earlier flooding back into his eyes.

That’s when something inside you snaps.

You stand up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. The restaurant goes quiet, all eyes turning to your table.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice calm but with an edge of steel, “but I think you need to leave. Now.”

The man turns his bleary gaze on you, a sneer twisting his features. “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

You step closer, your eyes flashing with anger. “I’m someone who actually understands what happened out there today. Unlike you, who’s clearly talking out of your arse.”

Lando reaches for your hand, his voice low and urgent. “It’s okay, really. Let’s just ignore him.”

But you’re not about to let this go. Not when this drunken idiot is tearing down everything Lando’s worked so hard for.

“No, it’s not okay,” you say, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. “This man,” you gesture to Lando, “drove an incredible race today. He started on pole, fought hard for every position, and when it came down to it, he put his team first. That takes more courage and integrity than you could ever understand.”

The drunk fan scoffs, but you’re not finished.

“You want to talk about the greats? Let’s talk about them. Senna, Schumacher, Hamilton — they all understood the importance of teamwork. They all had races where they had to make tough decisions for the good of the team. That’s part of what made them champions.”

You’re on a roll now, your voice rising with passion. “Lando didn’t give up today. He showed exactly why he’s one of the best drivers on the grid. He proved he can make the hard calls, that he understands the bigger picture. That’s what separates the good drivers from the great ones.”

The man opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “And you know what? The fact that you can’t see that says a lot more about you than it does about Lando. A true fan, a true lover of the sport, would understand the complexity of these decisions. They’d appreciate the skill and the emotional strength involved, not just blindly demand wins at any cost.”

The restaurant is dead silent now, everyone watching the confrontation unfold. Lando’s looking at you with a mixture of awe and affection, his earlier doubts forgotten in the face of your fierce defense.

The drunk fan, however, isn’t backing down. “Oh, spare me the lecture,” he sneers. “You’re just defending him because-”

You don’t let him finish. In one swift motion, you pick up your cocktail and dump it over the man’s head.

Gasps echo through the restaurant as the colorful liquid drips down the man’s face, soaking into his shirt. For a moment, he stands there in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“I think,” you say, your voice cold, “that you need to leave.”

The man splutters, wiping ineffectually at his face. “You ... you can’t ...”

“She can, and she did,” Lando says, standing up to join you. There’s a new confidence in his posture, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “And she’s right. About everything.”

The restaurant manager appears then, flanked by two burly waiters. “Sir,” he says to the drunk fan, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate harassment of our guests.”

As the man is escorted out, still muttering under his breath, the tension in the room gradually dissipates. A few nearby diners even break into applause, offering you supportive smiles.

Lando turns to you, his eyes shining with a mixture of love and admiration. “That was ... wow. Just wow.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, the adrenaline of the moment starting to fade. “I’m sorry if I made a scene. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk to you like that.”

Lando shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you kidding? That was incredible. I’ve never had anyone defend me like that before.”

The manager approaches your table, looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that incident. Please, allow us to comp your meal and offer you a bottle of our finest champagne.”

Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you say? Fancy celebrating for a change?”

You laugh, the last of the tension leaving your body. “Absolutely. Though maybe I should stick to water from now on. I seem to have misplaced my cocktail.”

As you settle back into your seats, the other diners returning to their own conversations, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand again.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin. “Not just for what you said to that guy, but for believing in me. Even when I struggle to believe in myself sometimes.”

You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with affection. “Always. You’re an incredible driver. But more than that, you’re an incredible person. That’s what I love most about you.”

Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with the candlelight or the promise of champagne. “I love you too. More than I can put into words.”

As the waiter arrives with a bottle of champagne and fresh glasses, you raise your glass in a toast. “To Lando Norris,” you say, your voice full of pride, “future world champion and the best teammate anyone could ask for — on and off the track.”

Lando clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “And to you,” he adds, “my fiercest defender and the love of my life.”

As you sip your champagne, the earlier incident fades into the background. What remains is the warmth of your love for each other, the pride in what you’ve accomplished together, and the excitement for all that’s still to come.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter, good food, and quiet moments of affection. By the time you leave the restaurant, hand-in-hand, the difficulties of the race day seem like a distant memory.

As you walk back to the hotel, Lando pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You know,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “I think I might need to hire you as my official defender. You’re much scarier than any PR team.”

You laugh, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “Please, as if you could afford me.”

Lando grins, his arm tightening around you. “Oh, I think I could manage. How does a lifetime contract sound? All expenses paid, of course.”

Your heart skips a beat at the implication behind his words. “A lifetime, huh? That’s a pretty long time.”

Lando stops walking, turning to face you. In the soft glow of the streetlights, his eyes are full of love and certainty. “Not nearly long enough, if you ask me.”

***

The bedside lamp casts a dim light across the hotel room. Lando’s arm is draped lazily over your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck as you both bask in the comfortable silence. The events of the day seem far away now, eclipsed by the simple pleasure of being together.

“I think,” Lando murmurs, his voice heavy with contentment, “this might be my favorite part of race weekends.”

You turn slightly to face him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Even better than qualifying on pole?”

Lando grins, pulling you closer. “Well, maybe it’s a close second. But only because I get to do this every single night.”

You’re about to reply when Lando’s phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand, the screen illuminating with an incoming call. Lando groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “If that’s Andrea calling to debrief again, I swear ...”

But as he reaches for the phone, his eyes widen in surprise. “That’s ... weird.”

“What is it?” You ask, curiosity piqued by his reaction.

“It’s ... it’s Seb,” Lando says, his voice a mixture of confusion and excitement. “Sebastian Vettel.”

Before you can respond, Lando fumbles with the phone, his usual dexterity deserting him in his surprise. Somehow, he manages to not only drop the phone but also lose his balance, tumbling out of the bed with a yelp.

You can’t help but laugh as Lando scrambles on the floor, trying to answer the call before it goes to voicemail. “Hello? Seb?” He says breathlessly, still tangled in the bedsheets.

“Lando?” Sebastian’s familiar voice comes through the speaker, tinged with amusement. “Are you alright? It sounded like you were wrestling a bear there for a moment.”

Lando’s face flushes as he rights himself, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No, no, I’m fine. Just, uh, dropped the phone. Bit surprised to hear from you, to be honest.”

You scoot closer, curious about this unexpected call. Sebastian rarely reached out unless he was attending a race, which had become a once-a-season occurrence since his retirement.

“I can imagine,” Sebastian chuckles. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

“No, not at all,” Lando assures him, even as you playfully poke his side. “What’s up, Seb?”

There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone becoming more serious. “I watched the race today. Quite a day you had, wasn’t it?”

Lando’s shoulders tense slightly, the memories of the race and its aftermath flooding back. “Yeah, it was ... intense.”

“I can imagine,” Sebastian says, his voice softening with understanding. “Team orders are never easy to deal with, especially when you’re fighting for the win.”

Lando nods, even though Sebastian can’t see him. “It’s just ... I don’t know. Part of me feels like I should have fought harder, you know? Maybe I gave in too easily.”

There’s a gentle sigh from Sebastian’s end. “Do you remember Multi 21?”

Lando’s brow furrows in confusion. “The incident with you and Mark Webber? At Malaysia in 2013?”

“That’s the one,” Sebastian confirms. “I was in a similar position to you today, but I made a different choice. And I want to talk to you about it, if that’s okay.”

Lando’s eyes widen, and he quickly puts the phone on speaker so you can hear too. “Of course, Seb. I’d really appreciate that.”

Sebastian’s voice fills the room, carrying the weight of experience. “Back then, I was young, hungry for success. When the team told me to hold position behind Mark, I ... well, I ignored them. I overtook him and won the race.”

“I remember watching that,” Lando says softly. “It was a big deal at the time.”

“It was,” Sebastian agrees. “And you know what? In the moment, it felt amazing. I won, I had proven I was the faster driver. But looking back now, I realize it came at a cost.”

You watch as Lando leans forward, hanging on Sebastian’s every word. “What do you mean?” He asks.

“It damaged the team’s trust in me,” Sebastian explains. “It strained my relationship with Mark, with the engineers, even with some of the fans. And more than that, it ... it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, processing this. “But you were racing. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Fight for every position?”

Sebastian’s laugh is gentle, understanding. “That’s what I told myself at the time. But being part of a team means sometimes putting the team’s needs above your own desires. It’s a hard lesson to learn, and an even harder one to apply in the heat of the moment.”

“So you think I made the right call today?” Lando asks, a hint of hope in his voice.

“I think you showed incredible maturity and team spirit,” Sebastian says firmly. “It’s not easy to give up a potential win, especially when you’re in the position to fight for it. But by doing so, you’ve strengthened your team, shown your commitment to the bigger picture.”

You can see Lando’s shoulders relaxing as Sebastian speaks, some of the doubt from earlier melting away.

“But what about the championship?” Lando asks. “Every point counts, and I gave up quite a few today.”

Sebastian’s voice takes on a thoughtful tone. “Championships aren’t won or lost in a single race. They’re built on consistency, on the strength of the team as a whole. What you did today? That builds the kind of trust and respect within a team that can carry you through an entire season.”

Lando nods slowly, his fingers intertwining with yours as he listens. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Plus,” Sebastian adds, a smile evident in his voice, “there’s something to be said for karma in this sport. The goodwill you build up? It has a way of coming back around when you least expect it.”

“You really think so?” Lando asks, a hint of his usual optimism creeping back into his voice.

“I know so,” Sebastian assures him. “I’ve seen it happen time and time again. The drivers who put the team first, who understand the bigger picture? They’re the ones who end up with long, successful careers. They’re the ones who become true champions.”

You squeeze Lando’s hand, seeing the impact Sebastian’s words are having on him.

“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says, his voice thick with emotion. “I really appreciate you calling. It means a lot.”

“Anytime, Lando,” Sebastian replies warmly. “We’ve all been where you are. It’s important to support each other in this crazy world of Formula 1.”

There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone lighter. “Now, I hope you’re not spending the whole night dwelling on this. You’re in Budapest, after all. Beautiful city. Plenty to celebrate.”

Lando chuckles, some of his usual cheerfulness returning. “Don’t worry, we’ve been making the most of it. Even had a bit of excitement at dinner.”

“Oh?” Sebastian’s curiosity is piqued. “Do tell.”

Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s just say my girlfriend has a mean cocktail toss.”

You can’t help but laugh as Lando recounts the incident at the restaurant, Sebastian’s warm laughter joining yours through the phone.

“Sounds like you’ve found yourself a keeper there,” Sebastian says, his voice full of amusement and approval. “Don’t let that one go.”

Lando’s eyes meet yours. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to.”

As the call winds down, Sebastian’s tone becomes serious once more. “Remember, Lando. What you did today? That’s the mark of a true champion. Keep that spirit, that integrity, and you’ll go far in this sport. And in life.”

“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says softly. “Really, thank you.”

After they say their goodbyes and Lando hangs up, he sits there for a moment, still processing the conversation. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“You okay?” You ask gently.

Lando nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Actually, I’m better than okay. That was ... wow. I can’t believe Seb called just to talk about that.”

“He clearly thinks highly of you,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And he’s right, you know. What you did today? It was pretty amazing.”

Lando turns to face you, his eyes shining with renewed confidence. “You know what? It was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want to win. But maybe ... maybe there’s more than one way to be a champion.”

You smile, your heart swelling with pride. “That’s my Lando.”

As you both settle back into bed, Lando pulls you close, his voice soft in the darkness. “Thank you for being here through all of this. For defending me, for supporting me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You snuggle closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “You’d probably still be on the floor after falling out of bed,” you tease gently.

Lando’s laugh rumbles through his chest. “Probably. Good thing I’ve got you to keep me grounded, then.”

***

The early morning sunlight streams through the large windows of the hotel’s breakfast area, shining over the scattered tables. The room buzzes with the quiet chatter of guests and the clink of cutlery against plates. At a corner table, a group of McLaren team members are huddled together, their conversation animated despite the early hour.

You spot them as you enter, your eyes immediately drawn to Will Joseph, Lando’s race engineer. He’s gesturing with a piece of toast, apparently deep in discussion about yesterday’s race. For a moment, you consider joining Lando for breakfast in your room, but the memory of Will’s voice over the team radio, pushing Lando to give up his position, makes you change course.

With a bright smile fixed on your face, you approach the table. “Good morning, everyone!” You say cheerfully, your voice causing the group to look up in surprise.

Will’s eyebrows raise slightly as he recognizes you. “Oh, good morning,” he replies, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Lando not with you?”

You shake your head, your smile never wavering. “He’s still getting ready. I thought I’d come down and grab us some coffee.” Your eyes lock onto Will’s. “Mind if I borrow you for a moment? I’d love to chat about yesterday’s race.”

The other team members exchange glances, sensing the underlying tension despite your cheerful demeanor. Will hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Of course, no problem.”

As Will stands to follow you to a nearby empty table, you turn to the others. “I promise I’ll return him in one piece,” you say with a wink, eliciting nervous chuckles from the group.

Once seated at the new table, you lean forward, your elbows resting on the surface, fingers interlaced. Your smile remains, but there’s a steely glint in your eyes that makes Will shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, Will,” you begin, your voice light and conversational, “quite a race yesterday, wasn’t it?”

Will nods, his posture stiff. “Yes, it was. A great result for the team, all things considered.”

“Mmm, indeed,” you agree, your head tilting slightly to one side. “A double podium. That’s certainly something to celebrate.” You pause, your smile growing a fraction wider. “Of course, it could have been even better, couldn’t it?”

Will’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Well, in racing, there’s always room for improvement, but-”

“Oh, I’m not talking about the racing, Will,” you interrupt smoothly. “I’m talking about your performance.”

Confusion flickers across Will’s face. “My performance?”

You nod, your expression one of exaggerated sympathy. “Your radio communications, to be specific. You know, I couldn’t help but notice how ... persistent you were with Lando yesterday.”

Will’s shoulders tense visibly. “I was just relaying the team’s strategy-”

“Were you?” You ask, your voice dripping with false innocence. “Because from where I was standing, it sounded an awful lot like emotional manipulation.”

Will’s eyes widen, a flush creeping up his neck. “ I... that wasn’t my intention at all. I was just doing my job.”

You lean back in your chair, your smile never faltering. “Your job is to support Lando, to help him perform at his best. Not to badger him into submission when he’s fighting for a win.”

“The team decision was-” Will starts, but you cut him off again.

“The team decision is one thing, Will. How you communicate that decision is another entirely.” Your voice drops lower, the cheerfulness giving way to a steely edge. “Do you have any idea what it does to Lando when you push him like that? When you make him doubt himself in the middle of a race?”

Will shifts uncomfortably, his breakfast forgotten. “I never meant to-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you say, your smile returning full force. “Which is why we’re having this little chat. So you can make sure it never happens again.”

Will’s brow furrows. “Are you ... are you threatening me?”

You laugh, the sound light and airy, completely at odds with the intensity of your gaze. “Threatening? Oh, Will, don’t be silly. I’m just having a friendly conversation with my boyfriend’s colleague. I’m simply pointing out that if I ever hear you speaking to Lando like that again, well ...” You pause, your smile widening to show teeth. “Let’s just say I can be very creative when it comes to protecting the people I love.”

Will swallows hard, his face pale. “I ... I understand.”

You clap your hands together, the sound making Will jump slightly. “Wonderful! I’m so glad we had this chat. It’s so important for the team to be on the same page, don’t you think?”

Before Will can respond, you stand up, your cheerful demeanor back in full force. “Well, I should get back to Lando. He’ll be wondering where his coffee is. Have a great day, Will!”

As you turn to leave, you pause, looking back over your shoulder. “Oh, and Will? Remember, Lando’s not just a driver. He’s a person. A brilliant, talented person who deserves respect and support. I trust you’ll keep that in mind next time you’re on the radio with him.”

With a final, dazzling smile, you walk away, leaving a stunned Will staring after you.

As you make your way to the coffee station, you can’t help but overhear snippets of conversation from the McLaren table.

“What was that about?” One of the engineers asks Will as he returns, looking slightly shell-shocked.

Will shakes his head, reaching for his water glass with a slightly trembling hand. “Just a friendly chat,” he mutters, his voice lacking conviction.

You smile to yourself as you pour two cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar to Lando’s just the way he likes it. As you head back to your room, you can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It might have been a bit dramatic, but if it means Lando gets the support he deserves on track, it’s worth it.

When you enter the room, Lando’s just finishing getting dressed, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks up as you enter, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“There you are,” he says, crossing the room to take one of the coffee cups from you. “I was starting to think you’d got lost on the way to the breakfast buffet.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just ran into some of the team downstairs. Thought I’d say good morning.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Oh yeah? Anyone in particular?”

You shrug, your expression innocent. “Oh, you know, just the usual suspects. Will was there.”

Lando’s eyes narrow slightly. “Will, huh? And how was that?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just a friendly chat. Nothing to worry about.”

Lando studies you for a moment, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”

You set your coffee down and wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Because you know me too well. But trust me, it’s nothing bad. I just ... may have had a little talk with Will about how he communicates with you during races.”

Lando’s eyes widen. “You didn’t ...”

“I did,” you confirm, your tone unapologetic. “Someone needed to say something. The way he was pushing you yesterday, it wasn’t right.”

For a moment, Lando looks torn between embarrassment and gratitude. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “You really are my fiercest defender, aren’t you?”

You grin, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of his hair. “Someone’s got to look out for you out there.”

Lando shakes his head, but his eyes are soft with affection. “You know I can fight my own battles, right?”

“Of course you can,” you agree. “But that doesn’t mean you have to fight them alone. We’re a team, remember?”

Lando pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, we are. The best team.”

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you can’t help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness. You know Lando is more than capable of handling himself, both on and off the track. But if you can make things even a little bit easier for him, if you can ensure he gets the support and respect he deserves, then you’ll do whatever it takes.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what love is. It’s standing up for each other, supporting each other, and facing the world together — whether that world is the circuits of Formula 1 or the quiet moments in a hotel room.

And as Lando looks at you, his eyes full of love and gratitude, you know you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Because he’s worth it. He’s worth everything.

[zaczenemiji]

Hi there! It's me...again. Hope your doing okay.

I was thinking about a new request about Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader based on the song "Please, Please, Please" from Sabrina Carpenter. Reader is a singer just like her so and has a relationship with Ken but she thinks that some things aren't doing good, but she also has him wrapped around her finger. Like the part with "I beg you, don't embarrass me, mother******". It can be angst but also fluffy and spice (Only if you want to but no smut) It can end in a happy ending.

The rest is up to you because I know you'll do a great job. No need to rush so take your time.

Don’t Prove ‘Em Right

Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader

Word Count: 1,358

Genre/Warnings: Angst (light), Character Development, Drama, Emotional, Redemption

Author’s Note: I went with a bit of angst 🤧

MASTERLIST

“You could do better.”

This was one thing you’ve always heard since you started dating men as a singer. Throughout your career, you were either cheated on, abandoned, or used in a way that they just rode your fame.

Other times, fans would ship you with another singer or celebrity or whoever famous and you’d give it a try for them but the ending is the always same: you two were just pretending for public entertainment and there was never love at all.

Your perception of love blurred the longer you got in the singing industry. You sang about it, wrote songs about it, but you’ve never really experienced it for a significant amount of time or for a significant depth.

That was until you met Kenji.

Despite his fame, he seemed down-to-earth and genuinely interested in getting to know you. He took you to his baseball games and introduced you to his teammates. In return, you invited him to your recording sessions.

Kenji was always supportive, and always encouraging. He seemed genuinely proud of your achievements and was always there for you. Despite his busy schedule, he shows up at your gigs and concerts and cheers you on from the front row.

He had a way of making you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was easy to overlook the occasional outbursts, the moments of impulsiveness that seemed to come with his fiery temperament.

You told yourself that everyone had flaws, and Kenji's good qualities far outweighed his bad ones.

You believed in him and in the future you could build together. Despite the red lights and the stop signs, you held on to the belief that this time, this love was right.

But as time went on, the cracks in Kenji's facade began to show. His temper flared more frequently, and his impulsive decisions started to take a toll on your relationship.

You made excuses for him and justified his actions to your friends and family. You told them he’s different.

But they told you that with the way he’s behaving, you’ll just end up in the dumps again—that he’s going to cheat on you, hurt you, leave you, and the ending will be the same…

“You could do better.”

Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another. You couldn’t afford your name dominating the headlines again. And for what reason? Another breakup.

You loved him deeply, but the constant cycle of highs and lows was exhausting. You wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the man you fell in love with.

But the more you tried to fix things, the more you realized that some things were beyond your control.

You sat in front of your vanity doing your makeup nicely. You glanced at the clock. Kenji would be here any minute to pick you up now. Tonight is your big night. It’s an afterparty to celebrate the release of your new single.

Your boyfriend had a reputation for causing a scene. It wasn't entirely his fault—he was passionate but it sometimes translated into impulsiveness. Tonight, of all nights, you needed him to be on his best behavior.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kenji stood there, looking dashing in a tailored suit, a grin spreading across his face as he saw you.

"Wow, you look stunning," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

"Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile. "You sure you wanna come?"

"Of course," he replied with a confidence that both reassured and worried you. “I’m always here for you.”

You arrived at the venue in no time. Celebrities, reporters, and fans filled the room, all eager to celebrate your success. You and Kenji mingled with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting congratulations.

But as the night went on, Kenji's behavior started to shift. The drinks were flowing, and while you had stuck to soda water, Kenji had not.

You watched with growing anxiety as he laughed a little too loudly, and gestured a little too wildly. The conversations around you started to feel like a backdrop to a ticking time bomb.

You pulled him aside. "Kenji, please," you whispered urgently. "Just... take it easy, okay?"

He frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his features. "What? I'm just having a good time."

"I know," you said, forcing another smile. “Just... for me, okay?"

He sighed but nodded and for a while, it seemed like he was keeping his promise. He stuck by your side, an arm around your waist, engaging in polite conversation with your friends and family.

However, you left him one moment and then the next, he was talking to one of the reporters. The latter walked away, a smirk on his face. Kenji turned to you, his face flushed with anger.

"Can you believe that guy?" he spat. "He had the nerve to ask about the last game. Said I sucked."

"Kenji," you said softly, trying to calm him down. You placed your hand on his chest. "It's not worth it."

"But—"

"Please, Kenji. Just... let it go."

He looked at you, the anger in his eyes slowly fading. He took a deep breath and nodded. "For you," he said quietly.

But the reprieve was short-lived. You caught sight of him at the bar, raising his voice at someone who had apparently made a snide comment.

The situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, Kenji had thrown a punch, causing a commotion that drew everyone's attention.

Your heart sank as security rushed in to break up the fight. You could feel all eyes on you, whispers spreading through the crowd.

You felt a sense of dejà vu as this wasn't the first time Kenji let his emotions get the best of him, and you were able to hold it together as you’ve always done, but then you heard the one thing you hated.

“She could’ve done better.”

Without a word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the venue, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

Not long after, Kenji arrived at your house, disheveled and remorseful. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he began, reaching out to you. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

You stepped back, keeping a distance between you. "Kenji, this can't keep happening. You promised me you would behave tonight!” You said in between sobs. “This was supposed to be my night, and you turned it into a disaster.”

You sat on your couch, your legs feeling too tired to keep you up. "I can't keep making excuses for you,” you continued. “I can't keep sacrificing my career for your mistakes."

Kenji fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He’s scared. He knew what those words meant. At that moment, he felt like the sky was crashing on him.

"I don't want to lose you, (y/n)," he said quietly, tears falling down. "I love you, and I know I've been screwing up. But I'm willing to do everything to make things right. Therapy, anger management, whatever it takes."

You stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and doubt. "Kenji, this isn't just about tonight,” you said. “This has been happening for a while now.“

“Please, (y/n),” he begged, his voice trembling as he knelt in front of you, embracing your legs as he rested his head on your lap. “I want to be the man you deserve. Please, give me one more chance."

Over the next few weeks, Kenji followed through on his promise. He made genuine efforts to address his issues.

He went out of his way to apologize to your friends and family for his behavior at the party, taking full responsibility for his actions.

Slowly but surely, he’s coming back to being the man you fell in love with. He made sure you wouldn’t be the one doing better because he was becoming better himself.

One afternoon, you had lunch with your friends. They asked about how things are now going between you and Kenji. You gave them a smile, a genuine one since after the party.

“He became better.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle

[nikxlaii]

➽ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓

☁ Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

☁ Category: Angst

☁Synopsis: He excludes you every time he's with her, and now he's living with the consequences of his actions, weighed down by their heavy toll.

�� Note: It looks better in my head, lmao. I got back into writing after school ended. Still preparing for 12th grade, I'm scared. Good luck reading this. Let me know how it goes. 06/12/2024

Do you not see me?

You stood in the field of glaze lilies, the soft night breeze gently caressing your skin, a sense of isolation surrounded you. The silence was deafening, save for the voices of the divine beings before you, talking as if you were not there. It was as if they were lost in the charms of the evening, indifferent to your presence.

You knew that going with Morax was a foolish decision the moment you realized that the God of Dust, Guizhong, would also be there. You shouldn't have come, you shouldn't have gone. But your heart would not permit you to resist the urge to spend time with the man you've always loved, even though it may not have been the wisest course of action.

Despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you couldn't let the chance of being with him slip through your fingers. Yet as the night wore on, a seed of doubt had started to take root within you, gnawing at your innermost thoughts. You now wish you had the foresight to realize that accompanying Morax wasn't the most commendable choice.

"Here," Guizhong, with a playful glint in her eye, reached down to pluck one of the glaze lilies dotting the ground, a sweet scent filling the evening air. With a sweet smile, she tucked the lily behind Morax's ear. "How nice it looks on you!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with amusement. Morax's eyes softened at Guizhong's sweet gesture as he smiled softly at her, an expression you'd never seen on his face before. It was clear that only Guizhong could bring that soft smile to Morax's stoic face.

You stood there watching them, a silent observer, as they talked to one another. Even what they're talking about is unknown to you, making you feel like nothing more than a passive object in the room. You bore witness to the way the man you loved gazes at her with yearning and adoration—a glance that you wish was aimed at you instead.

The sight was not one to behold, causing a deep and unrelenting pain to well up within the deepest reaches of your emotional being. It was a peculiar feeling that possessed you. It was as if a sense of resentment towards the goddess gradually seeped into your bones, permeating your very essence.

But how can you hate such an innocent god who has never actively done any harm? In particular to you? Nonetheless, deep down you can't help but wish she'd never come into his life. That he had chosen you instead of her, that it was you in his arms, the object of his desire. Yet you know it's a futile dream, for you two are incompatible, you are the god of war while he is the god of contracts, forever parted by the gulf between your natures.

Guizhong, being the epitome of refinement and grace, captivates all who lay eyes on her. Unlike you, the deity of battles, Guizhong was a wise, compassionate, and intelligent god who never harmed a single soul. Conversely, you nevertheless bore the scars of battle on your body. Your skin stained with blood from countless battles. You see why Morax is so captivated by her—she was everything that you weren't.

"Oh, I think it's best I leave for now. Perhaps we can meet another time?" You force the words past your lips, your voice a mixture of hurt and disappointment. You hug your arms tightly to your chest, waiting for a response from either the two of them, only to realize that they don't seem to care about your presence. They're too caught up in their own world, and you're not a part of it. Maybe it's best to leave them be.

That night marked the end of your presence in their lives. It was then that you knew that it was time to move on. You couldn't change the way things were, nor could you force Morax to love you. As difficult as it was, you had to accept that your relationship with him was not meant to be. So, with a heavy heart, you decided to leave, choosing to cut all ties and put the past behind you. It was the only way to find peace and move forward.

-

In a tragic turn of events, the Archon War raged on with no end in sight. The God of Dust lost her life in a fierce battle over the Guili Plains and perished amidst the Glaze Lilies, leaving behind a sea of sorrow in her wake, particularly for Morax. Imagine his grief when he lost her too. He should have known the impending doom that was about to happen, and maybe, just maybe, he would have saved her too. Everything was a massacre.

Despite the passing years, he never ceased his search for you, holding a faint glimmer of hope that you were still alive. Despite giving up his gnosis, his rulership, and the weight of responsibility that he's borne for millennia, his determination to find you remains steadfast. It's as if he's incapable of letting go of the notion that you're still out there, somewhere, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps the gnosis is now in the hands of the Fatui and has become their possession. He continues to look for you without ceasing.

Despite the selfish intentions behind his actions, he continued to search for you over and over again. He knew that he was to blame for your departure, as his behavior had led you to leave his life forever. Nevertheless, he persisted in trying to find you, driven by the guilt and regret that had filled his heart. He struggled to come to terms with the consequences of his actions, and the sadness that weighed upon him only continued to grow. All he could do was hope that somehow, someway, he could make amends.

But...

Would he ever see you again?

☁ Note: Zhongli, you selfish man, jkjk, I love you. No hate towards Guizhong! I love her so much. She's so cute. Who do you think is at fault here? Of course, me! for creating this.

[propertyofwicked]

you're gonna go far - ln

♬ so pack up your car, put a hand on your heart. say whatever you feel, be wherever you are...

warnings: angst. thats kinda it icl

masterlist the playlist

at 16, had anyone asked y/n where she saw her life now, she probably wouldn’t have expected to answer that she was still watching lando’s career in motorsport blossom into a legacy. not that she didn’t imagine him being successful, it was just hard to comprehend that the boy who fell asleep in the back of his dads car on the way back from a karting race would one day be one of the most successful formula one racers on the 21st century. the boy who wiped sweat from his forehead, his other hand shaking as he raised the flowers he held up and mumbled a quick “will you be my girlfriend?”

and when lando got his first break in racing, y/n was there, cheering the loudest, her eyes shining with pride.

at 18, the two laid together, having late-night conversations about their futures, promising to support each other no matter what. lando was progressing in his career, working closely with mclaren, y/n was looking at universities, dreaming of what she would spend the rest of her working life pursuing.

and at 20, moving into the flat had been a dream come true. lando's career with mclaren soared. he became a household name, known for his skill and charisma on and off the track. y/n was always there, cheering him on, even when she couldn't be at the races in person. and the two found solace in returning to their little flat, cooking together, being surrounded by each other in every aspect.

but at 22, she did not think that she would be sat in their home, hands tightly gripping a mug between her hands, the sun casting a golden hue that spread softly throughout the flat.

the distance between them had grown. the long hours, the constant travel, and the relentless demands of the sport started to take their toll. y/n felt it most on the nights she was alone in their flat, the silence a stark contrast to the roar of engines and the cheers of the crowd. she tried to fill the void but nothing couldn't mask the loneliness that crept in.

lando's absence became more frequent. their once lively home felt emptier with each passing day. phone calls and video chats couldn't bridge the gap, and y/n found herself missing the little things - his laugh, his touch, the way he made her feel alive. she tried to stay positive, reminding herself of his dreams and the promise she had made to always support him.

the air was thick with unspoken words as they stood in the kitchen. the flat was filled with a tense silence that neither of them knew how to break - it was like this any time he came home recently. lando seemed restless, his eyes avoiding hers. finally, he broke the silence.

"i'm planning on moving to monaco," he said matter-of-factly, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth, "it's the best move for my career, to be closer to other drivers and in a better position to travel to races."

y/n felt her heart clench, a wave of numbness washing over her. she couldn’t reason with him, she didn’t want to. understanding that their relationship had been unravelling for a while. she had become an afterthought, a part of his past that didn't quite fit into his future.

"i understand," she replied softly, her voice void of emotion.

lando looked at her, his expression a mix of relief and regret. he stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled away gently.

"it's okay," she whispered. "i know you're gonna go far. this is the best decision for you career," she said, echoing his previous statement, void of any ability to fight this.

and across the following weeks, as lando packed his things, y/n watched from a distance, feeling detached from the life they had built together. the memories of their laughter, their dreams, and their love seemed like distant echoes. she moved through the days like a ghost, mentally distanced from everything around her, unable to talk to anyone about the emptiness growing inside her.

she missed the way he would come home and wrap his arms around her, the way they would stay up late talking about their dreams. she missed the feeling of being loved. they hadn’t even discussed the break up, or the fact they had even broken up - “im moving to monaco” was a weighted sentence, a statement that had no place for her.

when the day came for lando to leave, y/n stood by the door, her eyes dry and her heart heavy. he hugged her one last time, and she held on just a moment longer, savouring the last trace of lando in her life.

"take care," she murmured, almost coldly, before stepping back and letting him go.

as the door closed behind him, y/n felt a hollow ache in her chest. she knew lando was destined for greatness, but the price had been their love. she sat down in the empty flat, the silence now a testament to what had been lost. she wandered from room to room, each corner filled with memories of a time when they had been inseparable.

their friends noticed the change in y/n, the way her laughter no longer reached her eyes, the way she seemed to be merely existing rather than living. they tried to reach out, to offer comfort, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about the emptiness she felt. she painted smiles on her face, but inside, she was numb, unable to process the loss of the person who had been her world.

as months went by, y/n threw herself into her work, hoping to find solace in the one thing that had always been constant in her life. she worked hard, she improved, but every achievement felt hollow without lando by her side. she watched his races on tv, feeling a mix of pride and sorrow. he was going far, just as she had always known he would, but he was doing it without her.

standing on the balcony of their flat, looking out over the city they had once explored together, the lights of london stretched out before her, a reminder of the dreams they had shared. the city looked the same, the lights still cascaded through the rows of buildings, the cars still sped through the streets at all times of the day. how could she be angry? he was achieving his dreams, she was doing the same. it wasn’t fair to keep him here against his own volition.

it wasn’t fair, but it didn’t make it any easier. it didn’t stop her from hurting, thinking about how easily he’d left her behind in search for something greater. she took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to move on, let go of the past, find a new path.

with a heavy heart, y/n too began packing up the flat, each item a reminder of the life they had built together. she carefully wrapped up the photos, the mementos of their time together, and placed them in boxes.

when the flat was finally empty, y/n stood in the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been their home. she knew it was time to close this chapter and start a new one, to find her own path, even if it meant doing it alone. as she locked the door behind her, she whispered a silent goodbye to the life they had shared, knowing that lando was destined to go far and that she had to find her own way, with or without him.

[haechoxo]

[7:07 pm]

cw; suggestive lol,,

“it wasn’t supposed to be complicated,” you admit, your voice softening. “we were both stressed with school and work, and it just… happened. i thought maybe, eventually, he’d see me as more than just a friend. but now… i don’t know what to think.” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you as you recall the day your arrangement with haechan started.

your tiny apartment was filled with the scent of coffee and the sound of pages turning. you and haechan were huddled at the coffee table, textbooks, notes, and highlighters spread out before you. finals week was taking its toll, and the exhaustion was evident in both your expressions.

haechan stretched, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “ugh, i can’t take it anymore. my brain feels like mush!”

not glancing up from your notes, stifling a yawn of your own. “just a few more days, and we can sleep for a week.”

he smirked, leaning back on his arms where he sat on the dingy rug. “or, you know, we could find a more fun way to relieve some stress.”

you raised an eyebrow, too tired to fully engage with his antics. “like what? please don’t say more coffee, because i’m pretty sure it’s running through our veins at this point.”

he leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “nah, i was thinking something a bit more… intimate.”

your pen paused mid-sentence, finally looking at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. “intimate, huh? like what, a hug?”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “we could fuck.”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, your fatigue momentarily forgotten as your mouth felt incredibly dry, “a-are you serious?”

“dead serious,” he replied, his tone playful as he shrugs, “we’re both stressed, and we’re best friends, what better way to work it out?”

you blinked, trying to process his suggestion, not that the offer wasn’t tempting, the amount of times you pictured kissing his perfect pouty lips, but still! “donghyuck, i don’t… what if it makes things weird?”

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “it won’t, i promise. we’re adults, we can handle this. besides, if we can’t help each other out, who can we rely on?”

you chewed on your lower lip, his words doing little to ease the anxiety bubbling up inside you. “i don’t know, hyuck….” all you can think about is your feelings bubbling over, and he finds out in the worst way possible.

“come on, y/n,” he coaxed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hand. “trust me, it’s fine, it’ll be fun!”

you sighed, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “okay, but if this goes badly, i’m blaming you entirely.”

he grinned, joining you on the couch, “deal. now, let’s get out of study mode for a bit. my brain needs a break from all this academic torture.”

the air between you charged with anticipation as he sat down beside you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with what-ifs, but haechan’s gentle touch and soft smile as he leaned closer gave you the reassurance you needed.

“still okay?” he murmured, his breath warm on your skin.

“yeah,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “just... nervous.”

“don’t be shy,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face. “it’s just me, remember?”

you nodded, his lips brushing yours softly at first, testing the waters. your heart raced as you kissed him back, the familiarity of his presence merging with the freshness of the situation, it almost felt natural. he deepened the kiss, one hand finding it’s way to your waist, pulling you closer, while his other held your face, thumb caressing your cheek.

kissing him was everything you imagined it would be—gentle, yet intense, filled with unspoken emotions and years of hidden feelings. as his lips moved against yours, you felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty, the weight of your decision pressing down on you.

just as the kiss began to deepen further, you pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his, breathing heavily as he continued, kissing down your neck.

as if he’s done it a million times before.

“can i keep going?” he whispered against the column of your neck, his voice low.

previous - next

a/n ; erm… can u tell it was my first time writing a kiss scene🤓 im actually sooo grossed out this was an experience i never thought id breach the topic of… anyway! hope u enjoy!! advice n ur thoughts are appreciated! xoxo jelly

[thedensworld]

What a Fate | Y.Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x Reader

Genre: humor, suggestive, smut

Words Count: 3k

Summary: Who would have thought your next meeting after having a one-night stand would be this unexpected?

 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Jeonghan's frustration lingered from the recent board meeting where his cousin, Seungcheol, secured the position of vice president in their grandfather's company. Despite Jeonghan's tireless efforts for the company's 60th anniversary celebration, his ambitions were shattered due to a scandal that befell him just weeks before the crucial vote.

As the CEO of their food and beverage company, Jeonghan has been diligently working towards the success of the family business. However, a sudden scandal arose when a former secretary from four years ago accused him of verbal bullying during their professional association. The accusation, given his prominent familial ties, tarnished the company's image.

Jeonghan, disheartened by the false accusations, found himself grappling with the fallout of the scandal. The situation escalated as the woman, who had once served as his secretary, admitted to fabricating the allegations. It was revealed that she had been nursing an unrequited love for Jeonghan, leading her to concoct the damaging story.

The relief of the truth emerging was accompanied by the bitter taste of betrayal. Jeonghan couldn't help but feel the weight of the injustice that had cost him the chance to inherit the family business. The emotional toll of the scandal, compounded by the familial dynamics at play, cast a shadow over what should have been a moment of celebration for Jeonghan and the company.

Jeonghan, guided by Joshua's advice, surrendered to the allure of the night and found himself embracing the spontaneity that the club offered. In the dimly lit space, fueled by the rhythm of the music, he discovered a fleeting connection with you. The chemistry between them escalated, and in the heat of the moment, they succumbed to the passion of a one-night stand.

The club's pulsating beats seemed to echo the heartbeat of the impulsive decision, and for a brief moment, Jeonghan let go of the burdens that had weighed him down. The physical connection became a temporary escape, a way to numb the lingering frustrations and disappointments.

As dawn approached, reality set in. The night, once filled with liberation, now carried the weight of consequences. Jeonghan, caught between the thrill of the moment and the complexities of his personal and professional life, grappled with the aftermath of the impulsive choice.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jeonghan muttered, the weight of realization hitting him as he hastily gathered his clothes. The consequences of the alcohol-fueled night began to sink in, and regret cast a shadow over him.

A sudden groan from you interrupted his frantic activity, causing Jeonghan to freeze. Relief washed over him as he realized you were still blissfully unaware, providing a temporary shield from the aftermath of their impulsive actions.

Stepping out of the hotel room, Jeonghan's first instinct was to call Joshua for a quick escape. The clock stubbornly displayed 2 a.m., an hour that should have deterred most people. However, Joshua, known for his penchant for late-night revelry, was the chosen confidant in this moment of crisis.

"My friend!" Joshua's voice, brimming with excitement, greeted Jeonghan as he opened the car door. In the midst of his own turmoil, Jeonghan found himself trapped with an exuberant Joshua. After directing Joshua's driver to head towards his home, Jeonghan couldn't escape the barrage of questions.

"I was looking for you, Jeonghan. Where have you been?" Joshua's enthusiasm clashed with Jeonghan's drained energy. Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan turned away, seeking a reprieve from the relentless inquiries.

"That's mean!" Joshua's protest echoed before giving way to the unexpected sounds of snoring. A chuckle escaped Jeonghan as he realized Joshua had succumbed to sleep, leaving the impending conversation for a more conscious moment.

The car ride became a surreal blend of exhaustion and Joshua's snores. Jeonghan, lost in his thoughts, braced himself for the inevitable talk he would have with Joshua once the overly-energetic friend returned to full consciousness. The night's events had left Jeonghan grappling with a mix of emotions, from regret to amusement at the unpredictable turns his life had taken.

The shrill ring of Jeonghan's phone pierced through the haze of his extended slumber, rousing him from a deep sleep. His body, oddly resistant to the routine of heading to work, had lingered in the realm of dreams, perhaps still grappling with the disappointment from the previous day's board meeting.

"Hm..." Jeonghan's response was a simple murmur, his voice carrying the remnants of a dizzy head after indulging in an unusually prolonged sleep—almost 12 hours of it.

As he reluctantly confronted the reality of the waking world, his secretary's voice permeated through the fog. Apologies were offered before the revelation struck like a sudden storm. "Your nephew, Mingyu, got into a fight and is now in a detention center."

Jeonghan's eyes snapped wide open, the abrupt news shattering the remnants of his grogginess. "What?!" The word escaped his lips, a mix of shock and frustration evident in his tone.

"He was bullied and made a defensive move, but they were captured by the cops as they fought behind a convenience store building," the secretary explained, weaving a narrative that only added to Jeonghan's growing list of familial challenges. Mingyu, his sister's son, seemed to have an uncanny ability to find trouble at the most inconvenient times, leaving Jeonghan to grapple with the repercussions once again. The responsibility he shouldered for his nephew intensified, adding another layer of complexity to an already tumultuous day.

A curse escaped Jeonghan's lips, a frustrated response to the recurrent challenges posed by his nephew, Kim Mingyu. The young troublemaker seemed to have a knack for causing chaos at the most inconvenient moments, leaving Jeonghan to bear the consequences.

Reflecting on recent incidents, Jeonghan's frustration intensified. Two weeks prior, he found himself reluctantly purchasing an expensive painting after Mingyu 'innocently' sneezed in front of it. A month ago, an expensive plate was shattered at a family gathering, forcing Jeonghan into the heart-wrenching position of apologizing to his grandfather for Mingyu's actions.

Sighing deeply, Jeonghan ended the call after obtaining the address of the police station where Mingyu was detained. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders once again. Determined to impart a lesson, Jeonghan knew he had to handle the situation personally.

A decade had passed since the tragic accident that claimed Jeonghan's sister and her husband, thrusting him into the role of responsibility for their son, Mingyu. Initially, the burden was shared with his parents, a delicate balancing act of familial obligations. However, as Mingyu navigated through his teenage years, his penchant for trouble escalated, prompting Jeonghan to shoulder the responsibility more exclusively.

Considering the high schooler's propensity for getting into mischief, Jeonghan made a conscious decision not to burden his aging parents further. He chose to bear the weight of guardianship alone, shielding his elderly parents from the additional stress.

As he prepared to confront Mingyu's latest misadventure at the police station, Jeonghan couldn't help but ponder the alternate scenario. Imagining what would happen if his father received this distressing information brought a shiver down his spine. The elderly patriarch, already burdened with the weight of years, would likely find the news overwhelming.

Jeonghan entered the police station, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he spotted Mingyu in the detention room, anxiously calling out his name. However, his heartbeat skipped a fraction when his eyes fell upon you, seated in front of the officer. The stark contrast in your attire from the previous night caught him off guard, and confusion clouded his features. The officer introduced you as Mingyu's homeroom teacher, and Jeonghan's mind raced to piece together the unfolding situation.

Jeonghan, torn between frustration and the need to understand the circumstances, addressed the officer, "I'm Jeonghan, Mingyu's guardian. What's going on?"

The officer explained the situation, detailing the fight and emphasizing the need for the guardian's presence before Mingyu could be released. Jeonghan's gaze shifted between you and Mingyu, sensing an air of complexity in the dynamics at play.

Other students had already been released and gone home, but Mingyu remained in captivity. You, as the homeroom teacher, withheld the crucial signature needed for his release until Mingyu's guardian arrived.

"Do you have time to talk after this, sir?" Your polite inquiry caught Jeonghan off guard as you both made your way to the parking lot. His eyes briefly flickered at Mingyu, who observed the peculiar atmosphere between his uncle and his homeroom teacher.

Jeonghan, his curiosity piqued, nodded in agreement, and motioned for Mingyu to wait in the car. As Mingyu stepped out of earshot, Jeonghan's heart raced in anticipation. What could you possibly want to discuss? Was it about the events of last night? Did you remember him as vividly as he remembered you?

The memory of the night played in Jeonghan's mind like a vivid reel. Your tight black dress accentuating every curve, flawless makeup adorned with a bold red lipstick, had captivated him. Yet, it was the sweet and unexpectedly addictive scent of caramel popcorn from your cologne that lingered in his thoughts. What a twisted charm you have.

Standing before him in your teaching attire—a baby blue blouse paired with white wide pants—your natural beauty surpassed Jeonghan's expectations. The sudden shift in his breath caught him off guard as he momentarily lost himself in the understated grace you exuded.

"Mr. Yoon?" Your voice broke through his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment.

"I'm so sorry to cause you trouble. I know Mingyu's family is very busy, but your presence was rather important for him and also for me as his homeroom teacher," you explained, and Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion lingering. The events of last night loomed in the background, and he wondered if they would be addressed.

As he waited for an explanation, you continued, "If you have time tomorrow morning, I would like to have a discussion about Mingyu's future education and career. Here's my contact information: Just in case you couldn't be present tomorrow, please inform me."

 

*

 

Jeonghan found himself in the counseling room of Mingyu's high school, bewildered by an inexplicable impulse that led him to cancel a crucial meeting. Outside, he waited with a strange mix of patience and nervous anticipation, uncertain of the forthcoming conversation. The memory of the recent hotel encounter lingered—an unspoken chapter between you two.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Yoon. I just finished a class. Thank you for coming. Do you need anything? Tea? Coffee?" Your unexpected presence disrupted Jeonghan's thoughts, prompting him to swiftly adjust his posture as he graciously declined your offer.

Seated across from him, technically in front of the table that acted as a silent mediator, you handed Jeonghan Mingyu's academic report. As he immersed himself in its contents, a narrative of Mingyu's scholastic journey unfolded, a canvas painted with both struggles and untapped potential.

The room held tension, an unspoken dialogue brewing beneath the surface. Jeonghan's eyes moved meticulously over the report, absorbing the nuances of Mingyu's academic challenges juxtaposed with his aspirations.

"As you can discern, Mingyu faces academic challenges. However, he stands as our school's basketball captain with tremendous potential for a professional career," you began, extending another paper containing Mingyu's career aspirations.

The weight of Mingyu's familial background as a businessperson hung in the air. "But, Mr. Yoon, Mingyu himself expressed zero interest in the business industry; his heart is set on pursuing a career in sports."

Jeonghan gently placed the report on the table, his hand following suit. His eyes, now directed at you, betrayed a mix of surprise and realization. "I never knew about this," he confessed, the admission carrying a layer of contemplation.

Jeonghan's mouth grew dry as he spoke, gratitude laced in his words. "Thank you so much for telling me this. Mingyu and I never really had a conversation about his school or his hobby."

You nodded empathetically, acknowledging the complexities of understanding a high schooler. "I understand, Mr. Yoon. Mingyu might seem like a very happy teenager, but we never truly know what's inside his head. I recommend you have a talk with him regarding his future; it'll be a good approach in case you two have different perspectives, and I believe both perspectives are important."

Jeonghan, appreciating the advice, nodded in agreement. "Thank you so much for the suggestion. Ms...?"

You gasped, covering your mouth, in a moment of realization. "Oh my goodness, I haven't introduced myself. Y/n, Ji Y/n. I'm a Korean teacher and also Mingyu's homeroom teacher."

As Jeonghan smiled, he expressed gratitude for Mingyu having a kind and attentive teacher. The mention of considering private school after the last incident hinted at the complexities of Mingyu's situation. "Ms. Ji, I am glad to know that Mingyu has a very kind and attentive teacher in his school. My family has considered sending him to a private school since the last incident. But I don't think we have to."

Jeonghan swore he noticed a faint blush on your cheeks as a soft chuckle escaped you. "It was such a big compliment for a teacher like me, Mr. Yoon," you responded, your tone carrying a modest grace. The unexpected exchange left a subtle warmth in the air, a departure from the serious tone of their earlier conversation.

As the discussion concluded, both of you walked out of the counseling room. Jeonghan nodded appreciatively as you motioned the way to the school entrance, a tacit agreement to walk together. The rhythmic tap of your shoes against the hallway floor echoed the unspoken tension lingering between you two.

Upon reaching the entrance, Jeonghan felt an itch to address the elephant in the room. Did you recognize him from the recent one-night stand just two days ago? "Ms. Ji..." he began, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You turned to him, your attention fully on him, a smile gracing your face. Jeonghan, in that moment, found himself captivated by your smile, his gaze unconsciously drawn to your lips. Memories of the recent encounter flickered in his mind, an unexpected longing surfacing.

"Perhaps..." Jeonghan hesitated, his mind wrestling with the question he was about to pose. "Have we ever met before?"

He shook his head hastily, answering his own question before you had the chance. "No," he said, the denial leaving a lingering tension in the air.

"Perhaps you remember me?"

Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and the sudden realization flickered in your gaze. Jeonghan's unspoken question had found its answer.

 

*

 

Your walls were clenching as Jeonghan thrust into you passionately. The way you moan around the room made Jeonghan's head go dizzy. You whisperedly asked him to speed up the pace before your lips met each other, craving the moistness caused by lust.

"You're so tight, baby." Jeonghan's sigh escaped from his mouth as his pelvis moved harder than before, earning your climax. He swore that the way you clenched him had sent him into heaven. Your sinful moans are Beethoven's masterpiece. The way your lips flushed, your cheeks stained red, and your hair stuck to your forehead were magical sights for him.

His left hand roamed your body. Praise them like you are such a goddess of beauty. His finger has met your nerves, and playing it has made your walls clench him even more, making it harder to thrust.

A moan slipped out of his mouth as he could feel your walls tighten and you hit your climax. The thrust became slopier, and it was the moment he felt that he was ready to burst because of you.

"Where do you want it, baby?" Jeonghan whispered in your ear. Thrusting you harder is a sign for you to answer him immediately, or he might burst inside you.

"My mouth, my mouth, please."

Shit, you'll be the death of him.

"Argh.."

Jeonghan's eyes are wide open. He just cummed on his bed while sleeping. Jeonghan blinked, his surroundings shifting from the intimate scene to the familiar sight of his bedroom. The remnants of the dream lingered, leaving him disoriented. He sighed, realizing it was all just a vivid fantasy playing in his subconscious mind. The sensations, the passion—all evaporated as he woke up to the reality of his empty room.

Jeonghan shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering heat of the dream. The intensity of the emotions felt so real, yet he was alone in his bed, his body untouched by the events that had unfolded in his mind.

Jeonghan, dressed in his work attire, couldn't help but notice Mingyu having breakfast at the table. Reflecting on yourr conversation from the previous day, he decided to break his usual routine and take a seat across from his nephew. It had been quite some time since Jeonghan had the chance to grab a morning meal.

As Mingyu chewed his food, his uncle's unexpected presence halted the motion of his jaw. The helper, accustomed to preparing breakfast for Mingyu alone, observed the unusual scene with curiosity. Confusion knitted Mingyu's brow as he wondered about Jeonghan's sudden change in behavior.

Jeonghan broke the silence, "How's school, Mingyu?" Mingyu, caught off guard, stammered a bit before replying, "Great, I have a lot of fun in this school."

Jeonghan nodded, deciding to share his own surprise. He casually mentioned that he had visited Mingyu's school the day before. Mingyu's reaction was unexpected, a slight protest evident on his face. Jeonghan, raising an amused eyebrow, asked, "Why are you so worked up?"

Mingyu confessed, "I don't want to be transferred to another school. What happened last time was a mistake of mine; I failed to control myself." He dropped his head, a mix of guilt and apprehension clouding his expression.

Jeonghan's brow rose, and he clarified, "Who said you're going to be transferred?" Mingyu, bewildered, tried to explain, "I heard that—"

Cutting him off, Jeonghan interjected, "I met your homeroom teacher. She told me you're a really good basketball player in school. Is that true?" A hint of pride and curiosity danced in Jeonghan's eyes, dispelling any misunderstanding that Mingyu might have had.

Mingyu's cheeks colored with embarrassment as he shrugged, "I don't know. She's praising me so much by saying that to you."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Do you want to go to a sports school in the future?" he asked, curious about Mingyu's aspirations, although he already had a good idea of the answer.

Mingyu shrugged back, asking tentatively, "Would you let me?"

Mirroring Mingyu's movement, Jeonghan replied, "Of course, why not?"

A wide smile lit up Mingyu's face upon hearing his uncle's supportive words. His laughter bubbled with excitement as he processed what had just transpired. "No way! Is Ms. Ji behind this?" Mingyu shook his head in disbelief. "Woah, Ms. Ji... Woah! I can't believe this."

Jeonghan observed his nephew's elation with amusement, his mind already brewing with a mischievous idea. "With one condition," he added, immediately causing Mingyu's smile to drop.

"What is it?" Mingyu asked impatiently.

Jeonghan rose from his seat, finishing his breakfast and preparing to leave for work. Just as he was about to go, he turned his head toward Mingyu and dropped a bombshell, "Set me up with Ms. Ji."

He walked away, leaving Mingyu stunned and taken aback by his uncle's unexpected request. The air hung with a mix of surprise and anticipation as Mingyu processed the playful twist his uncle had added to the morning conversation.

[sheerfreesia007]

Moves Too Quick

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 2,587

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Han is coming to terms with his feelings for you, his best friend. What happens when he sees you in a bikini of his favorite movie?

Nae Sarang: My Love, Gongjunim: Princess

Han laughed loudly as he watched Changbin grab onto Hyunjin and pretend to throw him into the pool as the taller boy tried to stay on the pool deck. The group of them were all gathered to hang out at the pool to try and stay cool in the heat wave that they were experiencing right now. It was supposed to be a fun filled day but Han was a little on edge with the addition of you to their group.

Lee Know had made the decision to invite you along to the pool day without letting anyone know until about a half hour before you were all supposed to meet up. Normally it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to come hang out with them but lately Han had been struggling with his feelings towards you. You were beautiful and so sweet and kind to all of them that he had found himself falling hard for you and trying to keep up with his growing affection for you. And while you hadn’t caught onto his emerging emotions the other boys had and used every opportunity possible to tease him about it.

There had been a few times when he thought you had understood what the boys were teasing him about but you never said anything and while he was thankful for that it was always maddening because he kind of wanted to just rip the bandaid off and see what happened. But then his anxiety would rise up and nearly seize his insides and keep him in a chokehold. He hated this constantly flopping back and forth with his emotions and needing to express them but not being ready to hear the rejection he was sure you’d give him. It was starting to take a toll on him. He hated this constant state of being on edge or anxious around you.

Han darted his eyes around his friends for a moment before he spotted you talking to Lee Know looking a little nervous about something. He wondered idly what you had to be so nervous about but when he saw Lee Know put a soft hand on your shoulder and say something to you that he couldn’t hear he felt his chest stutter with air. You looked so unsure of yourself and Han instantly wanted to reassure you with whatever it was that made you nervous and unsure.

You nodded at Lee Know for a moment before taking a step back and quickly slipping your baggy t-shirt off your body. Han felt his mouth go dry as he saw the bikini top covering your torso, it had some sort of pattern on it but it was held together with thin straps that hooked at your back and behind your neck. Not to mention the image you made wearing a pair of baggy basketball shorts that made you look so tiny and precious that Han’s heart thudded heavily in his chest.

”You’re drooling.” Chan says softly and Han immediately wipes at his mouth as Chan and Changbin laugh at him teasingly. He scowls and shoves Chan away from him as Changbin cackles loudly at him. Han moves to shove Chan again as the older man wiggles his eyebrows at him but he’s instantly halted when your sweet voice speaks up.

”Hey fellas.” You greet them and Han turns to you with a soft smile on his face while Chan and Changbin chuckle knowingly at the younger man before happily greeting you.

“Hi Gongjunim!” greets Changbin as he wraps you in a tight hug before lifting you off your feet slightly making you squeal softly as your arms wrap around his neck. Your laughter is infectious as Chan and Han both grin at the display of affection Changbin has for you before he’s setting you back on your feet making you wobble slightly. Han reaches out to stabilize you but Chan beats him to it as he holds your elbow steady letting you find your balance as you grin up at the older man.

“That’s a pretty bathing suit.” Chan says suddenly and Han frowns at him quickly before his head turns and he gets a good look at your bikini. His eyes widen into big saucers when he notices that the bikini has different scenes from Howl’s Moving Castle all over it and he feels his brain turn to mush, you knew his favorite Studio Ghibli movie was Howl’s Moving Castle the two of you had plenty of movie nights where you’d both debate the pros and cons of all the Studio Ghibli movies. He knew your favorite was Spirited Away, which made him wonder why you hadn’t chosen to buy a bikini with that movie’s scenes on it.

“Thanks! It was a toss up between this one and Spirited Away to wear today. Felt like Sophie today.” you responded with a shrug of your shoulders and a soft smile on your face. Han’s eyes dart over your body and feels himself grow warm at your explanation as he smiles adoringly at you. You’re beautiful in that easy unbothered way that he loves about you, and while he still feels conflicted with his emotions he can’t help but be drawn to you and how relaxed you make him feel just by being you.

“You look hot!” he says boldly and silence falls over the pool area as your eyes widen while a pretty red blush creeps across your body starting from your exposed chest. Chan and Changbin gape at him while you duck your head embarrassedly as Han suddenly freezes with panic. “I-I I mean.” he begins to stutter softly when suddenly Seungmin and Jeongin burst out in loud laughter. Han watches as you turn to them still blushing to scowl at them as they continue to laugh. “I’m so sorry.” Han says softly before he jumps into the pool to get away from the awkward situation, he swims to the far corner of the pool where Felix and Hyunjin are hanging out. Felix immediately reassures him as Seungmin and Jeongin still laugh loudly, Han doesn’t look at you as he feels his whole body heating with the hot flush of his embarrassment but out of the corner of his eyes he can see Lee Know at your side saying something to you as you nod your head.

It’s later in the day and the hangout is starting to wind down, Han has successfully avoided you ever since he blurted out that he thought you were hot earlier. Though he has caught on that you’ve also been avoiding being near him as well as you played and relaxed in the pool with the others. He felt bad about avoiding you but he felt even worse when he realized that you were giving him space and not being as close to him as you normally were.

Han watched from his spot in the corner of the pool as you and Hyunjin laughed at something Changbin said while lounging on the steps of the pool. Your head was tossed back and the muscles in your neck were on display to him, making his body heat with desire and affection for you. Suddenly Jeongin calls for you as he’s standing over by the lounge chairs letting you know that your cell phone is ringing, Han watches as you scramble out of the pool and quickly race for your cell phone, able to grab it before it stops ringing. They all watch as you talk to whoever is on the other line before you nod and hang up the phone.

“Alright guys, I’ve gotta get going. One of my girlfriends needs me to help her with something.” you tell them with a bright smile on your face. Han feels instant disappointment that you’re leaving already but he follows the boys out of the pool to say goodbye to you. You’re quickly drying yourself off as Lee Know and Chan say goodbye to you while giving you big hugs and thanking you for joining them today. The rest of the boys are slow to say their goodbyes and Han watches quietly as you easily slip on your clothes once more before storing away your towel in your backpack. You turn and hug Seungmin and Hyunjin quickly before your eyes darted over to Han and he perks up a little bit. “Walk me to my car Ji?” you ask him with a soft smile on your face. He eagerly nods his head and feels his chest puff up importantly as you give him your attention.

“Of course.” he responds and slips his sandals on before guiding you to the gate that leads to the parking lot. The two of you are quiet as you wave one last time at the boys as they all yell goodbye to you causing you to chuckle and smile at their antics. You then turn your head and smile brightly at Han and he responds with his own wide smile as you fall into step next to each other. YOur eyes crinkle at the sides and Han feels his heart thud heavily in his chest, you’re too cute for his sanity and he can’t seem to control himself now. “I’m sorry. For earlier.” he says suddenly and you look at him with furrowed eyebrows before your face clears and you smile softly before ducking your head and chuckling. He can see your blush coming back and he feels his panic start to return as his hands come up to try and assuage your embarrassment and his panic.

“It’s okay Ji.” you say fondly to him as you smile softly at him. Your face is still sporting your pretty blush but your smile is kind and the sparkle in your eyes is teasing. He watches as you turn to face him while walking backwards towards your car and he picks up his pace to make sure that you don’t trip or fall as you continue walking to your car as you smile warmly at him. “I know your mouth moves too fast for your brain sometimes. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable though.” you say with a shrug of your shoulders and Han stumbles slightly at your words. You were worried more about him being uncomfortable than him just blurting out that you were hot? He can feel the warmth in his body from his panic earlier start to melt his insides at how considerate you were of him. He should’ve known that his words would just roll off your back and he shouldn’t have been embarrassed, you knew just as well as he knew you. It’s not like this was the first time his mouth had gotten him into the hot seat with you. But he wanted you to know that what he said earlier was the truth for him, he thought you looked hot and gorgeous in your bikini. So once again he let his mouth get the better of him.

“It’s the truth though. You looked so good in your bikini.” he said truthfully as his eyes focused on yours and you nodded at him with a pleased smile on your face. Suddenly your back hit the back passenger door of your car and you looked over your shoulder at your car before turning back to him.

“Thanks Ji.” you said, sounding thankful of his words as your cheeks were dusted pink at his compliment.

“Why did you choose Howl’s and not Spirited?” he asked curiously as he remembered that you had mentioned having bought two bathing suits with the two movies on them. He watched as your eyes widened slightly before you turned your head to the side and chuckled softly as if you were embarrassed.

“Well you see Lee Know’s been on my case about being honest about my feelings lately and I thought if I wore a bikini with your favorite movie on it then it’d give me courage.” you explained to him and he tilted his head to the side confused on what you were trying to say.

“Courage for what?” he asked and you smiled shyly down at your feet as he took a step closer to you.

“Courage to confess to you how I feel about you.” you said softly and Han’s breath stuttered out of his chest as his thoughts fell into chaos at your soft admission. He licked his suddenly dry lips as his eyes danced across your downturned face trying to connect with your eyes but you weren’t allowing him to.

“And how do you feel about me?” he asked breathlessly and you grimaced softly before smiling adoringly down at the ground.

“I’m in love with you Ji.” you say softly as your face turns up to stare at him with soft adoring eyes. “But I don’t want to pressure you or anything.” you say quickly as you raise your hands to hang in the air shaking between the two of you. “I adore you and feel so comfortable and safe with you but I won’t push for anything more than friends if you don’t like me back.” you reassure him and he feels his heart seize in his chest before it begins to race double time. You were in love with him, you were in love with him. Han felt like he was on cloud nine as he stared at you with wide eyes as his mouth dropped open slightly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make this weird or awkward!” you say suddenly and Han quickly shakes his head as he sees you begin to panic at his quietness.

“No!” he suddenly bursts out and you stare at him surprised as he cages you against your car. His arms come up to bracket you in and you stare at him with wide shocked eyes. “Please, give me one second. My mind is racing.” he pleads softly and you smile fondly at him before nodding your head slowly. You settle against your car and Han takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you for the past few weeks.” he starts to explain. “You’re my best friend and I’ve started to feel like I’ve wanted more than just friendship lately. I want more than just cuddles during movie night, I want to be able to press kisses to your lips and skin without it being weird. I want to spend the night with you just holding you close to me. I want to take you on cute couple dates where no one else matters but each other. I want all of it with you.” he confesses softly and feels his heart sing inside his chest as he sees the blossoming grin on your face as your eyes sparkle excitedly. “I’m in love with you too nae sarang.” he whispers to you and he suddenly feels your hands grip his damp t-shirt before you pull him forward up against you as your lips press to his in a chaste kiss. He grunts against your mouth before you pull away to rest your forehead against his as you grin widely at him.

“Sorry my mouth moved too quickly for my brain there for a second.” you tease him and Han chuckles softly before cupping your face and pressing another soft chaste kiss to your mouth.

“We both have that problem huh?” he asks goodnaturedly and you chuckle at him before nodding your head eagerly with sparkling eyes.

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt. 5

Missing Him

◀︎previous part

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan's indecisiveness is starting to take a toll on you tags more angst

wc 1.5k

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 Every day since that afternoon in the church has been hell. Your dreams were so close to coming true. He said he wanted to make things work and treated you more affectionately than ever before, but quickly changed his mind not even an hour later. You felt your hope and happiness drain from within you, leaving you to be that empty shell you were before that day in his office. 

 You sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on some cereal. Your stomach was in far too many knots for food to be enjoyable. Thoughts of Negan plagued your mind no matter what you did. You heard someone walk into the kitchen, but you didn't bother looking up from your soggy cereal. 

"Honey," you mom said softly. You glanced up at her awaiting her next words. 

"Could you run down to the store and get a few things for the church picnic tomorrow?" she handed you the grocery list on a folded sheet of paper before you could even answer. You groaned internally, mainly because you didn't want to go to the store, but because you had forgotten all about the church picnic. You grumbled to yourself as you cleaned up your breakfast and trudged up to your room to get dressed. You were so dejected that you couldn't bring yourself to care about your puffy eyes and overall disheveled appearance. 

...

"You look like shit," you heard a voice say as you were looking at the expiration date on a carton of milk. You already knew who it was without having to look. It was Negan. Only he would break your heart then laugh about the aftereffects. 

"Feel like it too," you replied without looking at him. You couldn't, even though you desired to see his handsome face once again. You were sure you'd start bawling about what could have been. He'd have to be blind to not notice how heartbroken you were. You were wearing your heart on the sleeve of that tattered t-shirt you wore. He knew what it would take to brighten you back up again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It'd be wrong no matter how he tried to spin it. The best thing he could do for you, was let you go. 

"Have a blessed day, Coach," you muttered sardonically before continuing your shopping. He sighed despondently before calling out your name, catching your attention. 

"What do you want, Negan!" you asked, tears burning in your eyes. You did not want to cry in front of the man again and he didn't want to be the reason you cried, not again. 

"Not pursuing this," he said motioning to him and you, "is what is best for you. I am not doing this to hurt you, and you know that." 

"That's not for you to decide! I am an adult who can make her own decisions and I want us to work," you argued, a lump forming in your throat making your next words difficult. You didn't know when you and him became an us, but calling it anything else would've been a lie and you both knew it. "Every minute away from you has been painful a-and I really miss you." The tears were falling now and you couldn't bear to look at the older man. You breathed shakily as you used your sleeves to wipe your tears as they left your eyes. Negan's hand clasped around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you closer to him and your arms away from your face. He held your face in his hands and swept your tears sway with his thumb. Negan's touch was comforting, but you didn't dare let your guard down around him. You couldn't handle him leaving again. 

"Doll, I-"

"If you're n-not gonna be serious about me, just let me go," you whispered, cutting him off. He looked at you with too many emotions swirling in his hazel eyes, rejection burning on the tip of his tongue. As if it were like you could feel it, you pulled away from him and stormed off, leaving him in the dust as you continued your shopping.

...

 The day of the church picnic arrived faster than you anticipated. After welcoming everyone to the picnic, you excused yourself and set up your own picnic blanket in an isolated area. You needed some alone time. Your mind was still reeling from that encounter you had with Negan the other day. Nauseous. That's how you felt. You were sick that you let Negan consume your thoughts like this. You cried about him before spring break, during spring break, and probably will after spring break. You hugged yourself as you bit back tears, grateful that you were far enough away from the others so they couldn't see. 

"There you are. Been lookin' for ya all over the goddamn place." Your head snapped in the direction of Negan's voice, your eyes meeting his as he stood over you, holding a plate. 

"Wha-? What are you doing here?" you asked, scooting up into a sitting position. He pulled out a pamphlet that was advertising the church's picnic and tossed it to you. 

"I wanted to come talk to ya since you wouldn't listen to me at the store," he explained. You stubbornly turned away from him, crossing your arms. You felt him sit beside you on your picnic blanket, but you still refused to face him. He slid the plate toward you, on it was a hotdog and some potato chips. 

" 'M not hungry," you lied, pushing the plate back to him. 

"Are you gonna fuckin' listen to me or should I just leave? Because I did not come all this way for your stubborn ass to ignore me." He was getting frustrated, which was obvious by the way he raised his voice, but he immediately regretted it when he heard you whimper and saw your shoulders shake. 

"W-what do you wanna say?" you choked out. Tears silently flowed down your face as you sniffled, choking back your sobs. 

"I shouldn't have kept leading you on like that, especially since you're so goddamn sensitive. So, I came to let you know that I'm done with that. I wanna make you happy, doll, I wanna spend time with you," he admitted. Your eyes widened. You didn't know of this was a dream or not. But when you felt his thumb swipe away your tears, you knew it was real. You tackled him into a hug, causing him to collide with the ground, taking you with him. 

"You better be a hundred percent sure this time," you mumbled into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you close. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at being in such an intimate position with him. He's hugged you before, but never like this. Instead of a teacher pitying his student, he was hugging you because he wanted to, not because he thought you needed it. The intimacy flustered him too. Feeling you on top of him was igniting every feeling he worked so hard to bury. But he was getting tired of burying those feelings. He saw the way his resistance was hurting you and seeing you hurt hurt him. 

"I am. I promise," he whispered into your ear. You held him tighter, not wanting to let him go, and it seemed like he didn't want to let you go either. But you were actually hungry, so you sat up and began eating the hotdog he got you. 

"Does this mean we can spend time together...outside of school?" you asked, batting the lashes of your doe eyes at him. 

"Of course, doll." The nickname, along with his promise of companionship, caused heat to blossom upon your face.  From a distance, you heard your father shouting your name. You looked at Negan longingly, not wanting to leave his side for fear he'd disappear, but he nodded his head toward your parents, giving you the go ahead and a silent promise that he'll still be here.

"Yes, dad?" you asked after trudging your way through the grass over to him and your mom.

"Ah, there he is!" he said, looking past you and at Negan who you didn't know followed you. You looked at Negan, confused, but he just smirked at you.

"Mr. Smith, my wife and I just wanted to thank you for bringing our daughter home last Friday," your father said gratefully. 

"Oh yes, our daughter talks highly of you. Says you make school that much better for her," your mom chimed in. 

"It's no problem," Negan replied. 

"Why don't you pop on by for dinner tonight? We'd love to show you our appreciation." Your face was flaming at the possibility of Negan being in your house. Butterflies flapped around furiously in your tummy at the thought of him seeing your bedroom. He must've noticed how antsy you were, because he smirked at you before he quickly accepted the offer. 

"That is very kind of you all. I'll be there." 

next part ▶︎

[estellan0vella]

Face It Together ❀ SatoSugu Masterlist HFBU

You sit in the sterile, overly bright doctor's office, your fingers anxiously twisting the fabric of your shirt. The familiar clinical scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils as you wait for Dr. Kuroda to enter. You've been struggling with your epilepsy for years now, and your current medication isn't working as well as it used to. Seizures have become more frequent, more intense, and you've been feeling increasingly desperate for a solution.

When the door finally opens, Dr. Kuroda walks in with his usual confident stride. His white coat flutters slightly, and he offers you a cursory smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Good afternoon," he says, glancing briefly at your medical file. "What brings you in today?"

Taking a deep breath, you explain your situation, your voice wavering slightly as you describe the worsening seizures and the toll they're taking on your life. "I really need to try a different medication," you finish, looking at him with a mix of hope and apprehension.

Dr. Kuroda leans back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "You know," he begins, his tone condescending, "we have to be careful with changing medications, especially for young women like you. You might want to have children someday, and many of the more effective medications can cause complications with pregnancy."

You feel a flush of anger rise to your cheeks. "But I'm not planning on having children right now. I need to be able to live my life now."

He waves a hand dismissively. "Women often change their minds about these things. It's important to keep your future options open. Besides, you need to understand that your worth as a woman isn't just about your career or personal achievements. Motherhood is a beautiful and fulfilling role."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, incredulous. "Are you saying that my life and well-being right now are less important than some hypothetical future children?"

Dr. Kuroda's expression hardens. "I'm saying that we need to consider all factors, including your potential role as a mother. Let's not make any hasty decisions. We'll have a follow-up appointment for when you're feeling less emotional"

The rest of the appointment passes in a blur. You feel numb, your mind replaying his words over and over. By the time you leave the office, your anger has given way to a deep, aching sadness. The sun is setting as you make your way home, the sky a beautiful wash of orange and pink that you can't bring yourself to appreciate.

When you step into your shared apartment, the familiar warmth and comfort of your home does little to alleviate the weight pressing down on your chest. Satoru and Suguru are in the living room, their faces lighting up when they see you. Satoru's white hair is slightly tousled, and Suguru's long, dark hair is tied back in a loose ponytail. The sight of them usually fills you with a sense of peace, but today it only reminds you of how helpless you feel.

"Hey, how did it go?" Satoru asks, his blue eyes scanning your face with concern.

You force a smile. "It was fine," you lie, dropping your bag on the floor and slipping off your shoes. You walk past them and head to the kitchen, needing a moment to compose yourself.

Suguru follows you, his brows knitted in worry. "Are you sure? You don't seem fine."

You busy yourself with making tea, your hands shaking slightly. "Really, I'm okay. I just... need a moment."

Satoru and Suguru exchange a worried glance but give you the space you need. You lean against the counter, taking deep breaths, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water over the tea leaves, the familiar ritual grounding you somewhat.

Finally, you carry your cup to the living room and sink into the couch between them. The silence stretches out, heavy and uncomfortable. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"

The tenderness in his voice is your undoing. You burst into tears, burying your face in your hands. "It's just so unfair," you sob. "He wouldn't change my medication because he thinks I might want to have kids someday. He acted like my whole worth is tied to being a mother."

Suguru's eyes darken with anger. "He actually said that?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

You nod, wiping at your tears. "He said we shouldn't make any hasty decisions and that motherhood is a beautiful and fulfilling role."

Satoru's grip tightens on your shoulder, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. "That's bullshit," he says bluntly. "You're worth so much more than just the potential to have kids."

Suguru takes your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "We're going to find you a new doctor," he says firmly. "Someone who will listen to you and take your needs seriously."

The warmth of their support begins to chase away the chill left by Dr. Kuroda's words. You sniffle, looking between them. "Thank you," you whisper. "I just feel so powerless."

Satoru brushes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "You're not powerless," he says softly. "You've got us, and we're going to fight this together."

Suguru nods. "You're strong, and you deserve to live your life on your own terms. We're here for you, no matter what."

Their words are like a balm to your wounded spirit. For the first time since the appointment, you feel a glimmer of hope. You lean into their embrace, the weight of their love and support easing the ache in your heart.

The next few days are a blur. Despite the reassurances from Satoru and Suguru, a lingering sense of dread keeps you from sleeping well. Your symptoms persist, and the frustration mounts. A few days later, you schedule another appointment with Dr. Kuroda, feeling like you need to give him one last chance before moving on. You decide to bring Shoko along. She's known you for a long time, and her medical background means she can advocate for you more effectively.

When you arrive at the office with Shoko, the atmosphere feels tense. Dr. Kuroda's condescending smile returns as he sees the two of you. "Good afternoon," he greets, though his tone is less than warm. "I see you've brought a friend."

Shoko's presence bolsters your confidence. "Yes, this is Shoko Ieiri. She's a medical professional and a friend."

Dr. Kuroda's smile tightens. "I see. So, what can I do for you today?"

You take a deep breath, summoning the strength to speak up. "I've been thinking about our last appointment, and I really need to address my current medication. It's not working, and the seizures are getting worse."

Dr. Kuroda sighs, leaning back in his chair. "We've been over this. Changing your medication could impact your ability to have children in the future. It's important to consider that."

Shoko interjects, her voice calm but firm. "Dr. Kuroda, while it's important to consider future fertility, the primary concern should be her immediate health and quality of life. There are alternative medications that can be explored."

Dr. Kuroda's eyes flicker with irritation. "With all due respect, Miss Ieiri, this is a matter for a qualified physician to handle. The patient needs to understand that her priorities might change."

Shoko's expression hardens. "And with all due respect, Dr. Kuroda, I am a qualified physician so it's Dr Ieiri, and I'm here to ensure that my friend gets the care she needs. It's clear that her current treatment is insufficient."

Dr. Kuroda's demeanour shifts to one of open hostility. "I appreciate your concern, but women often regret hasty decisions about their reproductive health. It's essential that we don't close any doors."

You feel a surge of anger at his patronizing tone, but Shoko beats you to the punch. She stands up, leaning over his desk. "What is essential is that she doesn't suffer from untreated epilepsy. Your job is to treat her medical condition, not to impose your personal beliefs about her reproductive future."

Dr. Kuroda's face reddens with anger. "I don't appreciate being spoken to in this manner."

Shoko's eyes blaze with fury. "And I don't appreciate your blatant disregard for your patient's well-being. If you refuse to adjust her treatment, we'll find someone who will."

You feel a rush of gratitude and empowerment at Shoko's fierce defence. Dr. Kuroda glares at both of you, but you no longer feel intimidated. "We'll be seeking a second opinion," you say, standing up beside Shoko. "Thank you for your time."

As you leave the office, you feel a mix of relief and lingering frustration. Shoko puts a comforting arm around your shoulders. "We'll find you a doctor who actually cares about your health," she assures you. "No one should have to put up with that kind of treatment."

Back at home, you relay the encounter to Satoru and Suguru. Their anger mirrors Shoko's, but their support is unwavering. Satoru pulls you into a tight hug. "You're not alone in this. We're going to find someone who listens."

Suguru nods in agreement. "You deserve the best care, and we'll make sure you get it."

The intensity of the moment softens as the three of you settle into the cozy living room. Satoru shifts so you can nestle more comfortably against his chest. His arms are secure around you, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a grounding presence that makes you feel safe. "You know," Satoru murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face, "you're the strongest person I know."

You let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "I don't feel very strong right now."

"That's because you're tired," Suguru says, sitting down beside you and Satoru on the couch. He places a gentle hand on your knee, his touch warm and reassuring. "But strength isn't about never feeling weak. It's about pushing through, even when it's hard. And you're doing that every day."

Satoru nods, his eyes full of unwavering confidence. "Exactly. We're so proud of you, and we’ll be here every step of the way."

The warmth of their words begins to dissolve the lingering tension from your appointment. Satoru's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, while Suguru's steady presence beside you provides a comforting anchor. You lean into Satoru's embrace, feeling the weight of the day's stress slowly lift.

"Let's do something relaxing tonight," Suguru suggests. "How about we order some takeout and watch a movie? Something light and funny."

Satoru perks up at the idea, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "I've got just the movie in mind. You guys are going to love it."

You can't help but smile at their enthusiasm. "That sounds perfect."

As the evening unfolds, the apartment fills with the comforting aroma of your favorite takeout. The three of you gather on the couch, a tangle of limbs and shared blankets. Satoru insists on picking the movie, and soon enough, the room is filled with laughter as a ridiculous comedy plays on the screen.

Every so often, Satoru and Suguru exchange knowing glances, silently checking to make sure you're okay. Their concern is palpable, but it's wrapped in layers of affection and camaraderie. They make you feel like you're not just a patient or someone who needs protection, but a beloved partner whose happiness matters deeply to them.

As the credits roll, Satoru nudges you gently. "Feeling better?"

You nod, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Yeah, a lot better. Thanks to you two."

Suguru wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We're a team, remember? We're here for the good days and the bad ones."

Satoru plants a playful kiss on your forehead. "Exactly. And we'll always make sure there are more good days than bad."

You close your eyes, basking in the warmth of their presence. "I don't know what I'd do without you both."

"Luckily," Satoru says with a chuckle, "you'll never have to find out."

Suguru squeezes your shoulder gently. "We're in this together, always."

The three of you stay curled up on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. Every word, every touch, every glance reminds you that you are deeply loved and supported.

As the night wears on, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The world outside might be uncertain and sometimes harsh, but here, in the safety of your home, you have everything you need. Satoru's playful banter, Suguru's calm strength, and the unbreakable bond you share make you feel invincible.

"Let's get some rest," Suguru suggests softly. "Tomorrow is a new day, and we'll face it together."

Satoru stands up, stretching his arms above his head. "Agreed. And who knows, maybe tomorrow we'll find the perfect doctor."

You rise from the couch, feeling lighter than you have in days. As you head to bed, sandwiched between Satoru and Suguru, you realize that no matter what challenges come your way, you have the best possible support system by your side. With them, you know you can face anything.

The next morning, you wake up feeling refreshed, ready to take on whatever the day brings. And with Satoru and Suguru by your side, you know that you'll never have to face it alone.

This is actually a genuine struggle young women face when getting placed on meds for any form of epilepsy. So you get given the ones with worse side effects that make you depressed and sick because who cares how we feel right? Inspired by this

[cece693]

You Can't Outrun Fate (Hannibal Lecter x Male! Reader)

This came to me in a dream :) Well, a mix of dream and me seeking out alternative timelines in the Hannibal show. Hope you enjoy.

tags: posessiveness, slight jealousy, heartbreak, sad male reader, misunderstandings, m/n leaves Hannibal, but when does Hannibal allow something of his to escape his control, kidnapping

Hannibal Lecter was a drug, a highly addictive one at that. His charm, words, and actions ensnared you in his web until it was too late. This drug left you with nothing and no one, except him. M/N knew this all too well; he could hardly remember his old life before the murderer waltzed in and deemed him worthy of seeing past his multiple facades and joining his side. It had been years since that day, and M/N didn’t regret it. Like a blooming rose, M/N eagerly soaked up any attention Hannibal gave him. But nothing good lasts forever.

Hannibal was a man who thrived on adrenaline and enjoyed being challenged. What better challenge than finding Will Graham, a man harboring darkness which he tried hard to mask behind this front of normality? For the first time since M/N, someone had forced their way into Hannibal’s mind palace and made a home there.

M/N had known since the beginning of their relationship that it wouldn’t be long before Hannibal grew bored of him. Hannibal detested routine more than he detested rudeness—being chained to M/N without the ability to indulge in others was unbearable for him. M/N was foolish to think he would be enough to satiate the monster within Hannibal. Will Graham became the perfect canvas for Hannibal to mold into his equal, leaving M/N in the dust.

It began innocently enough with Hannibal bringing the detective into their conversations, making off-handed comments about Will’s unique gift. His fascination grew, and soon enough, Hannibal was deserting M/N at their home without a note or message, prioritizing Will’s 7:30 pm sessions.

At first, M/N tried to rationalize it. He told himself it was fine to see Hannibal off, knowing he would return soon. But then those therapy sessions started blending into real life, with Hannibal spending more and more time trailing behind Will like a shadow. 

M/N knew it was over. He had been replaced. Hannibal's absence became more frequent, his excuses more transparent. Their relationship took a toll with both men unable to stand within the same room, their love replaced by a cold void. M/N felt a complex mix of emotions—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of loss. He couldn't bring himself to hate Will. 

If he weren’t so hopelessly in love with Hannibal, M/N might have pursued the detective too—he was interesting and handsome, a combination so rarely found in one person. In another universe, under different circumstances, perhaps they could have been friends, or even more. But in this life, Will was the catalyst for his heartbreak, the new obsession that had stolen Hannibal’s affection. 

M/N and Hannibal had been avoiding the inevitable, so one day when M/N knew Hannibal would be busy, he packed his bags and took off. It was a hard decision but M/N knew it was the correct one. It wasn’t as if the murderer would miss him, the past weeks spent in solitude was enough to tell M/N he wasn’t needed. Perhaps Hannibal was already organizing a dinner party to celebrate his departure, aiming to introduce Will into his life. He had overstayed his welcome. 

The initial months were challenging; detoxing from Hannibal was painful. Everywhere he looked, M/N couldn’t help but think of the man. Hannibal’s presence was ever-permanent in M/N's life, an inescapable shadow haunting his every step. The familiar scents, the echoes of their conversations, the ghost of Hannibal’s touch—everything served as a cruel reminder of what he had lost. M/N found himself drifting through each day in a haze, battling the overwhelming urge to return, to feel that addictive rush once more. But he owed Hannibal at least that much, a chance to restart with the partner of his dreams. 

And when memories became too much to bear, M/N would depart once more. America, Britain, Ireland, Spain. Beautiful sights but it didn’t ease his emptiness. He’d even begun to bring partners to bed, hoping they’ll become his new addiction, but nothing. Perhaps this was M/N’s punishment: unable to move on and inevitably tied to Hannibal forever. Or perhaps this was fate. 

Fate. 

Such a funny thing—luck, destiny, karma, however you wanted to call it. Almost a year had passed since M/N left America when news reached him about the death of Will Graham. The incident was attributed to the Chesapeake Ripper, a detective who had been too close to uncovering the killer’s identity. The revelation left M/N shocked and unsettled. If it was Hannibal who disposed of Will and not a copycat, the question lingered: Why? What had driven Hannibal to eliminate someone he had once found so intriguing, someone whom he viewed as an equal? 

Rushing to his apartment, M/N locked the door behind him. If Hannibal had killed Will, what guaranteed M/N he wouldn’t kill him next? Panic surged through him as he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, but it was already too late. His nose wasn’t quick enough to detect the familiar scent of cologne before strong arms seized him and spun him around.

M/N froze, the blood draining from his face as he found himself face to face with Hannibal. But this wasn’t the man whom M/N remembered—his hair was longer and unstyled, falling into his eyes, and his clothing consisted of a simple black jacket and slacks rather than his usual three-piece suit.

"Hannibal." M/N managed to gasp, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief.

Hannibal's eyes bore into him. There was a wildness in his gaze, a hint of the unrestrained fury simmering beneath the surface. He looked like a man who had been through hell and emerged on the other side, more dangerous and unpredictable than ever. He still commanded attention, but now there was a dangerous demeanor he wore, as if he was on the verge of being Hannibal and whatever monster he’d tucked away.

“M/N.” Hannibal whispered back, his voice deceptively calm. “I didn’t think you would be so foolish as to run from me.” The back of his hand grazed his cheek when it harshly gripped his chin, forcing their eyes to lock. M/N couldn’t look away nor did he want to. Hannibal’s eyes were a tempest of emotions—anger, betrayal, hurt, but above all, love.

"I...I had to leave," M/N reasoned, his voice coming out steady despite the churning inside his stomach. “You know why.” All he received was a cold, hard glare from Hannibal. 

"Do I?" he said softly, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "You left without a word, abandoning everything we had built together.” Hannibal took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. M/N could feel Hannibal’s warmth, and a part of him wanted to close the distance, but fear paralyzed him. "When you left, everything lost its meaning. Life became a dreary monotone."

“You made that choice.” M/N couldn’t help but hiss, not being able to contain his anger and sadness. “You paraded Will like some sort of prize, leaving me in the dust. How do you think I felt when the man I loved began to seek someone else?” Pushing Hannibal away, M/N remained standing, wanting to get everything off his shoulders. “You were the one who abandoned whatever we’ve built, not me.”

Hannibal’s expression softened. “I never meant to hurt you, M/N.” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “Will was a distraction, a fleeting curiosity. But you...you are irreplaceable.”

M/N scoffed at the man’s words. “It’s been a year, Hannibal. If I’m really irreplaceable as you claim, why didn’t you come sooner? You’re just now seeking me out after Will’s gone from the picture. Admit it, you want your play thing back.”

“You’re nothing of the sort, M/N.”

“Shut up!” M/N barked, his voice filled with desperation. “Just leave me alone, Hannibal. Go.” But his words fell on deaf ears. Cornered against the wall, M/N struggled as Hannibal grabbed his body and pressed a towel against the bottom of his face. Chloroform. 

M/N fought against the overwhelming dizziness that crept over him, his limbs growing heavy as the world began to blur. He could feel Hannibal’s fingers gently running through the back of his head, a gesture that was both tender and chilling. Hannibal spoke the final words M/N would hear before darkness enveloped him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t lose you again.”

[puck-bunnies]

kisses down low

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, basically pure word porn, oral sex (f receiving), praising, ass and thigh slapping, use of pet names (baby, pretty girl, good girl), light teasing, not proof read

“i like my kisses down low, makes me arch my back. when you give it to me slow, baby just like that.”

word count: 2.5k

♪ - kisses down low, kelly rowland

sounds of the midnight traffic fills the small apartment. i keep the room dark, the only light is the soft glow of the city’s lights mixed with the vanilla candle burning on the bedside table. a soft hum fills the room, the silence killing me, but so does the suspense. when will nico walk through the door?

he’s been on the road for quite some time, finally coming home for the games at the rock. i wait for his arrival, laying on top of the messily made covers. my legs are bare with the mini sweat shorts i wear, the bottom of my ass on display when i roll onto my side. my top is only covered with a soft pink bra, cupping me perfectly for eyes to linger on. i’m dressed perfectly for nico’s arrival.

i watch out the window, looking at all the lights glowing in the apartments around me. every light indicating a different family, different life, different problems. every car driving around the streets, ones wanting to get home to their family, get to a club, or just aimlessly searching for purpose.

the world is so huge, so many different lives happening at once. mine and everyones decisions molding everybody else’s lives, not just our own.

my thoughts suddenly snap out of my head as i hear the distant front door opening. a deep voice softly whispering my name, searching for my body that lays still in the bedroom. my eyes stay trained on the skyline, my ears listen to the apartment around me.

the footsteps getting ever so closer, the whisper of my name filling the halls. it’s all stopped when the next door opens, my bedroom door cracking open as brown eyes peer around them. i don’t see them, my back facing the door, but my body is not shielded from their sight.

“y/n?” nico whispers behind me, i look over my shoulder. even through i knew he was there, seeing his face ignites a spark in me. i raise myself in the bed, the mattress sinking with the weight of me on my knees.

nico rushes to me, pulling me in a tight hug. my head nuzzles in his chest, though i’m careful not to mess up my perfectly done makeup. the black hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t do much to cover his muscles, i feel him flex around me as his arms pull me closer to him by my waist.

his hands make their way to my waist, nonchalant picking me up into his arms. my legs wrap around his hips, letting me be completely engulfed in his warmth. “i missed you pretty girl.” he whispers into my hair, placing a soft kiss onto my head.

“i missed you more nico.” i pry my head from his chest, looking up into his eyes. his big brown eyes are overtaken my emotions, love fills them, hints of lust lingering in the shadows.

i’d be lying if i said that nico going on roadies doesn’t take a toll on our sex lives. the two of us aren’t much into the whole sexting thing or doing anything over facetime. he’s too paranoid that we’d be caught, or something somehow would get leaked. so, we keep it all for when he comes back home.

and fuck is the wait worth it.

last time i swear i was almost fucked to death. the what seemed like endless rounds of orgasms, liquids littering the bedsheets so much so, that we had to sleep on the couch.

this time, no doubt, will be no different. nico usually taking control and me going along with his demands. what we both like.

i can see the temptation in his eyes now. the way he looks at me, the stare down making me intimidatingly little. his hands cupping my ass to keep me clung to his body, he softly massages each cheek, rolling the flesh in his palms.

my teeth bite down on my bottom lip, nico’s strength picks my body up higher, our eyes looking straight into each others. his face inches ever so closer to mine, hot breath fanning over my face sending a chilled shiver down my spine.

it takes him all of two seconds to close the distance, pressing his lips to mine. his finger nails softly dig into the skin of my ass, causing a silent moan to fall from my mouth, nico taking it as the perfect opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth.

my hands which were resting along nico’s broad shoulders move their way up his neck, threading my fingers in his hair. nails rubbing his scalp and slowly pulling at his soft brown roots.

i can feel nico’s cocky smile across my lips, the way i play with his hair makes him go wild. from the way my fingers pull at my hair, i receive a playful smack on my ass. the sensitive skin turning bright red with a handprint across the flesh.

he backs his head away from mine, letting us both catch our breaths that our lungs crave. it’s then when nico’s eyes wander down my body, his eyes linger on my perky tits that start to fall out of my dainty bra. hands gripping harsher at the bottom of my exposed ass, “you really know how to dress for me, don’t you baby?” he whispers. “all this for me?”

my bottom lip finds it’s way back between my teeth, biting down on the flush pink skin. a nod of my head answers nico’s previous question, “only you.” i whisper back. my words only add to the proud smile plastered on his face, licking his lips as his dark eyes stay on mine.

my body suddenly drops, a squeal leaving as i crash with the mattress. a chuckle is the only thing i hear from above me, watching as my eyes blow wide with surprise. nico doesn’t make a move towards me, standing above me in almost a degrading way. his stare is cold, but greatly heated with lust, making me feel small in his gaze.

he finally begins to move, calloused pads of his fingers run up my smooth legs, shivers of my skin and little whimpers leave my throat. my jaw clenching at his teasing actions. his eyes follow his fingers, up the surface of my calves to my thighs.

“nico.” a soft whimper leaks from my throat in the sound of his name. “please.” i shyly beg out. the embarrassment of my pleads creep up to my cheeks, rose blush coating my skin.

he lowers himself just above my legs, his hot breath beginning to fan against my thighs. “what baby?” he teases, hovering just above my skin. “you’re gonna have to use words now.”

his hands round around my ankles, holding them loosely as he guides my feet up on the bed, my knees now in the air above. lips pressing a soft kiss on my inner knee, goosebumps form on my skin from the teasingly little contact.

my teeth bite down in a clench, squeezing my jaw to find myself begging once again. a breath shoots through my teeth, my chest rising and falling with deep sighs. “please, touch me nico.” i plead, feeding nico’s desire for me.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mocks. his large hands grip the sides of my thighs with great force, making me gasp from his sudden change of ways. he lowers himself farther down on the bed, lowering to his knees to get a perfect sight of me above him.

i don’t know why a whimper leaves my mouth, maybe it’s the sight of him looking up at me, like he owns me. or it’s his harsh grip that could leave bruises on my skin marking me as his. “my girls so needy, hm?” nico snaps me out of my own mind. his one hand leaves my thigh before coming back onto it with a forceful slap. i soft gasp mixed with a moan rips through the air, his hands already doing their work to soothing my burning thigh.

“you like that don’t you?” he teases once again. his lips draw down to my inner thigh, pressing a more forceful kiss down on my flesh. “me marking up your body.” nico elaborates. “as all mine.”

curses murmur from my voice, hands flattening by my sides on the mattress, staring to ball the covers into my fists. nico works closer to where my body needs the most attention, sloppy kisses tracing across my skin. i feel myself clench around nothing, needing to be filled by nico.

his hands snake up my legs, stopping at the waistband of my shorts, starting to teasingly pull them off of me. he works slow, keeping his dark brown eyes burning into mine. i suck the inside of my cheek between my teeth, watching as he slides the shorts off of me, keeping my bottom only covered in my soaked panties.

a smirk creeps up on nico’s face, swiping a stripe up my aching slit. “shit baby, so soaked for me already?”

i can only comprehend enough to let out a soft groan in response. he starts to rub tight circles, against my clothed clit, watching me as my chest starts to softly heave. nico presses down harder, my feet stomp down deep into the mattress, toes staring to curl.

my walls continue to clench around nothing, craving for something to fill me up as nico continues his teasingly slow actions. his hot breath fans against my pussy, the sides of his head almost squeezed by my thighs as i force my hips closer to him. a smile crosses his face once again, forcing my hips back down with his large hands, his pressure on my clit disappearing.

“gotta be patient now, pretty girl.” he hooks two fingers on each sides of my panties, pulling them down my smoothed legs to throw them along with my shorts on the floor. the only thing covering my body is my bra, leaving my breasts to almost pool out of them for nico’s eyes. “such a pretty little pussy.” he praises, pressing a soft kiss against my clit.

he adds another one before kitty licking my sensitive bud, tongue swirling around it before venturing back down. his tongue slips into my wet folds, flicking his tongue to hit the spots he knows i like most. my back arches softly off of the mattress, hips bucking up to get more of his long tongue.

nico's hands grip harder at my hips, pressing the bone to force them to stay stuck on the mattress. i force myself to crawl up on my elbows, looking down at nico, watching as he starts to slurp on my pussy. his one hand moves from my hip to my thigh, gripping harsher at my skin, finger tips pressing so hard they start to turn white.

he moves his hand off of my thighs before smacking them back onto my plushy skin. a shocked whimper comes out of my mouth, nico's eyes search mine, looking for anything telling him that it hurt you. but in all honesty, it turns you on even more. the harsh red hand print that he soothes by rolling the flesh in his palm.

nico knows to continue his work with his tongue when you thrust you hips back onto his tongue, needing more of him as he'd once slowed down his actions.

curses mumble out of my mouth, jaw clenching and hips buckling. “oh shit.” my hands move from the balls of covers in them to his hair, combing his long brown hair back before tugging on it softly.

my hips start to move again mindlessly, my insides begging for more than nico is giving me. “you have to be a good girl and stay still now. i want to taste you.” he hums against my pussy, my walls vibrating with the vibration of his voice.

i can feel the familiar buckling of my stomach, a knot tightening so hard I feel like I could break any second. my breaths get shorter and quicker, chest heaving up and down as my fingers tug harder at nico's hair, egging him on further.

he knows that i'm close to finishing, teasing me by slowing down his actions to a painfully gentle pace. my mind goes hazy, mad at nico for teasing me when i'm so close to coming undone, but also praising him for making me feel this way. thighs squeezing his face closer to my begging core.

this time, nico backs away from me completely, looking up at me with a cocky smile. "what did i say?" he asks, his big brown eyes burning holes into mine as i clench my jaw. i'm so close to my orgasm and now nico is wanting to play with me.

all my pride is easily stripped away from me as i find myself pathetically begging once again. "i'll stay still, i promise. i need you.. shit." my breath hitches as i hold onto my orgasm that's almost in my grasp.

nico almost laughs at my embarrassingly pitiful pleads, putting his face where it once was, sliding his tongue into my clenching hole while he places his thumb on my clit. he moves his thumb in quick and tight circles, now determined to make me orgasm above him.

my head rolls back by the refound pleasure, muscles tensing up as moans release from my mouth once again. my eyes screw shut, squeezing them harshly as i can feel my orgasm seconds away. though i don't look at him, i can feel nico's harsh gaze on me, staring determinedly up at me.

i open my mouth more to speak, but noting can come out except for moans and quiet whimpers. nico nods against me, "i know." he whispers against me, with his words i feel myself coming undone. my muscles tightening before completely relaxing, my mind blurry and sight darkened when i finally open my eyes.

he helps me ride my thigh, keeping the same pace before gradually slowing down. he unlatches his mouth from my aching folds, leaving his thumb to draw lazy circles around my clit. my liquids leak down nico's chin, coating the soft stubble that covers his jaw.

crawling back up my body, he places a soft kiss on my breasts that overflow from my bra, before working up to my face. "you did so good baby. taste so good." he whispers in my ear, hot breath fanning my neck.

nico's lips aggressively press onto mine, the faint taste of myself lingering between our heated and passionate kiss. his tongue sliding into my mouth, hands harshly gripping at my hips once again.

[starlitmelanin]

ink on paper I trent alexander-arnold

pairing - husband!trent × wife!reader

word count - 1.1k

warnings - none

summary - you never truly wanted a divorce, but stupid words led you to sitting in an attorney's office.

it had been raining that morning.

you remember because you had watched the droplets race down the window as you sat at the breakfast table, the cold silence between you and trent almost palpable.

the coffee tasted bitter, but you weren't sure if it was because of the cheap teabag or the resentment brewing between you two.

things hadn't always been this way. there was a time when every touch, every glance, was filled with warmth and affection. you still remember the first time he looked at you, really looked at you, with those intense eyes of his. it was at a mutual friend's party, and you had laughed at some silly joke, and there he was, across the room, grinning at you like you were the only person there.

it was intoxicating.

but life had a way of getting complicated. trent's career demanded so much of him, and while you tried to be understanding, there were moments when the loneliness became too much to bear. late nights turned into arguments, arguments into shouting matches, and before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, throwing hurtful words at each other like knives.

that morning had been the final straw.

he had come home late, again, and you had stayed up waiting, again. when he walked in, you had tried to keep calm, to talk it out like adults. but the exhaustion in his eyes and the frustration in yours sparked something ugly. words were exchanged, things that couldn't be taken back.

"maybe we should just call it quits," you had shouted, your voice breaking.

"maybe we should," he had replied, and the silence that followed was deafening.

now, as you sit across from him in the attorney's office, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. trent is looking at the floor, his jaw clenched, and you can tell he's trying to keep it together. this isn't what either of you wanted. it's just what it had come to.

the lawyer is droning on about the division of assets, but you can barely focus. all you can think about is the first time you and trent had walked through the door of your house, newlyweds with stars in your eyes. you remember the way he had picked you up and carried you over the threshold, both of you laughing like fools.

it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"do you understand the terms as we've discussed?" the lawyer asks, pulling you out of your reverie.

you nod, but your mind is elsewhere.

it's on the countless nights you spent waiting for him to come home, the missed calls, the arguments. but it's also on the nights he held you close, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and promised forever.

"y/n," trent's voice breaks through the haze. he's looking at you now, really looking at you, and for a moment, it feels like it did back then. "are you sure this is what you want?"

you open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat. you had been so certain when you made the decision, so sure that it was the only way to stop the pain. but now, sitting here, you aren't sure of anything.

"i don't know," you finally whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i just... i don't know."

trent's expression softens, and for a moment, you think he might reach across the table and pull you into his arms. but he doesn't. he stays where he is, a safe distance away, just like the past few months.

the lawyer clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional display. "perhaps we should take a break," he suggests, shuffling his papers awkwardly.

you nod, grateful for the respite. you stand up, your legs feeling unsteady, and make your way to the restroom. once inside, you lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look tired, worn out. this whole ordeal has taken its toll on you.

as you splash some water on your face, you think about all the things you wish you could say to trent. how you miss him, how you never wanted things to end up like this. how you still love him, despite everything.

when you return to the conference room, trent is standing by the window, looking out at the rain-soaked streets. he turns when he hears you come in, and there's a sadness in his eyes that mirrors your own.

"do you remember our first date?" he asks quietly, as you take your seat.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. "of course. you took me to that little italian restaurant on the corner. we laughed so much that night."

trent chuckles, but it's a hollow sound. "i thought i was going to screw it up. i was so nervous.”

"you were perfect," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

the room falls silent again, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. the lawyer re-enters, looking between the two of you with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism.

"shall we continue?" he asks, but you can tell he's hoping you'll call the whole thing off.

you glance at trent, searching his face for any sign that he wants to fight for this, for you. but all you see is the same weariness you feel.

"let's get this over with," trent says, his voice flat.

and just like that, the moment is gone.

you sign the papers, your hand shaking slightly, and when it's trent's turn, he does the same. it feels surreal, like you're watching someone else's life fall apart.

as you leave the office, the rain has stopped, leaving the streets glistening under the afternoon sun. you walk in silence, side by side but miles apart. when you reach your car, you turn to trent one last time.

"i’m sorry," you say, and you mean it with every fibre of your being.

trent nods, his eyes filled with a sorrow that breaks your heart all over again. "me too.”

you want to reach out, to hold him, to take back every hurtful word you ever said. but you don't. instead, you get into your car and drive away, leaving behind the man you still love and a life that could have been.

sometimes, love isn't enough to fix what's broken. and as you navigate the streets, you realise that this is one of those times.

the tears come then, hot and unstoppable, and you let them fall, mourning the loss of what once was and what could never be.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Aurorise | ateez x reader

Pairing: prince!ateez x dancer!reader

Genre: royalty, historical fiction, poly, adventure

Word Count: 1568 words

Summary: The story of how you, a dancer, upheaved an entire monarchy all by falling in love with eight princes.

a/n: from the poll, the next post will be college!ateez! :) Enjoy! <3

Aurorise - A kingdom where dawn's first light paints everyday masterpieces. (Reference: Kingdom Ideas)

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

As far as you recall, you weren't supposed to come back home. When you joined the travelling dance group, your plan entailed travelling from kingdom to kingdom and settling in whichever one promised a fruitful life.

The kingdom you grew up in, Aurorise, reigned with a dysfunctional monarchy and an impulsive King whose decisions were based on his emotions rather than logic, and this was often to the detriment of his kingdom. He had 16 sons, who formed their own groups consisting of 8 each. And his wives divided themselves similarly, in support of the ones in the line to succession. You had no business with how the royals lived their lives but their irresponsibility took a toll on the betterment of the village. The King’s decadent lifestyle was a clear symbol of the excesses of the ruling class.

Your family didn't want to leave. Your father, who had once been close friends with the King, was ready to lend support to the monarchy if needed like a true patriot as he saw himself, and your mom wanted to be by his side as a dutiful wife.

 However, she did urge you to pursue your life elsewhere because you deserved to live a good life that felt right for you. So much to the disappointment of your father, you ventured out into the world and became a world renown dancer alongside your trusted friend, Hoshi.

Together, the two of you along with some friends, established yourselves as an acclaimed dance group known as Lumiere - a radiant group, sparkling in gold ensembles with a gentle glow and performed with grand splendour and flamboyance. 

Until, one day, you received a letter from your cousin requesting your group’s presence and attendance in celebration of her alliance to Prince Chan, the Crown Prince and first in line to the throne.

Now you didn't dislike your cousin, rather, the two of you hardly ever exchanged conversations with one another. Because while you focused on seeing and touring the world, she focused on being selected as a possible betrothed to one of the princes. Her wish came true and you hardly ever saw her again. Your father urged you to do the same but you disagreed, not wanting a life bounded by strict rules and expectations.

At first you considered not going, but as you continued to read the letter, it felt as if there was a sense of urgency coming from your cousin’s message to attend and so, against your better judgement, you told Hoshi the circumstances.

Hoshi was more than happy to oblige and now, here you were, standing outside in front of the palace in the stupendous courtyard with the royal family just above you on the palace balcony and many guests gathered around.

In all honesty, you felt like a prey being watched from every angle and direction. While you waited patiently alongside him, Hoshi’s gaze was fixed on your cousin standing next to Prince Chan in the balcony. Sadness washed over his features as he looked on and realising the distant look in his eyes, you gave a reassuring nudge to ask if he was okay. He snapped out of daze and smiled at you, looking away to the other end of the courtyard.

This was one of the reasons you didn't want to come. Your cousin and Hoshi had a past history with each other, one that ended terribly for the latter. He loved her dearly and she possibly had feelings for him at one point but ultimately, their fates led them elsewhere, away from each other.

Hoshi never talked about it and he never spoke ill of your cousin or the monarchy. He continued to live his life, following his dreams and passions with a smile plastered on his face every time you saw him.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as it was announced that the King had arrived and behind him eight of his sons strolled in. You recognized this group instantly. They called themselves Ateez and were regarded as the rebellious group of princes. Prince Seonghwa, the oldest, is second in line to the throne and was the only one, perhaps besides Prince Yunho and Prince Jongho, who actually followed the rules of the court.

Prince Hongjoong and Prince Mingi didn't care; they did whatever they want when they felt like it. Meanwhile, Prince Yeosang was known to be sleeping most of the time while Prince San and Prince Wooyoung are a duo who revelled in causing chaos and mischief.

Their other eight brothers who addressed themselves as Stray Kids, tended to follow the rules a bit more because of Chan’s imminent succession to the throne, but would find themselves at times revelling in mischief and tricks like Prince San and Prince Wooyoung.

Knowing this made you become fully aware of the fact that Prince Chan might be the only saving grace for this kingdom, and perhaps Prince Seonghwa to some extent. The rest of the princes seemed iffy.

In the meantime, you wanted to go home. You preferred being at home while your mother prepared delicious treats than standing in the palace courtyard in the blistering hot sun with haughty nobles.

But then, when one of Her Highnesses began to chastise your cousin extremely loudly for everyone to hear and hurling spiteful comments at your cousin’s meek attempts to explain things, you found yourself clinking your anklets as a response to siding with your cousin.

The King found your retaliation amusing as no one dared to oppose any of his wives. He signalled you out of your group to the centre of the courtyard.

"What's your name?"

You bowed respectfully as you answered, "Y/L/N Y/N, Your Highness."

"Y/L/N?” he asked, the name felt familiar to him, “Are you Y/L/N's daughter?"

"Yes Your Highness." 

"Hm, you were not there for the selection for the bethorals though."

"I was not in the Kingdom at the time, Your Highness. My group and I were performing in another kingdom."

"Your group?” he watched your group at the side, “What's the name of your dance group?"

"Lumiere, Your Highness."

"Do you mean, the most renowned and currently talked about dance group?"

"Yes Your Highness."

"The most well-known dance group is from this kingdom and there has never been a performance!" The King suddenly bellowed.

No one muttered a word as the King looked around, waiting for someone to answer.

“Well!?” he yelled

You responded gracefully, "We tried to perform at the Kingdom's banquets a few times, Your Highness. But we were rejected every time. We left afterwards and began performing in other kingdoms."

"Hm,” he grumbled, “Well you will perform now."

"Excuse me Your Highness," one of Her Highnesses interrupted, the one who ridiculed your cousin, "But this insolent girl was rude to me. She needs to be punished!"

"I said, they will perform now." The King reprimanded.

Her Highness pursed her lips and stayed quiet, seething with anger and eyed you with contempt.

"You may begin." The King announced.

You glanced at Hoshi who gave an encouraging smile.

"Hoshi-ya." You sang.

"Yes ma'am?" He sang cheerily.

"Shall we dance?"

You clinked your anklets as a sign for the drummer to begin playing, and he followed the rhythm of your anklets to the beat of the drum. The two of you began your performance that enthralled the entire crowd. 

Your performance was a riot of colours, as you twirled, your skirt flared around like a fiery halo and you were a whirlwind of energy with your feet almost barely touching the floor while your body bent and moved to the rhythm of the music. As the melody played, you and Hoshi moved in sync, each twirl and step in perfect harmony with each other. The performance was an expression of opulence and exuberance. All eyes were transfixed on your group with complete awe and fascination.

Little did you know, eight pairs of those eyes were that of the eight princes. You had caught their attention, bewitched and enchanted them with your talent and they watched with enthusiasm and attentiveness. Surprisingly, they also felt a twinge of jealousy as Hoshi grabbed you by the waist gently and spun you around gracefully.

Your performance ended with you sitting on the ground and your gaze to the floor. The applause was thunderous but you did not know about the princes' interest until, a red veil was thrown from the balcony and landed on top of you, covering you completely.

Your eyes widened in shock. In your culture, red veils are for brides and brides-to-be. Brides-to-be would be gifted a red veil that was selected by their future husband to wear on the wedding day, signifying the union between the two. As a result, a gesture like this would have your people whispering and talking.

You grabbed the hems of the veil with shaky hands and lifted it slowly to see who was bold enough to do something like this. The applause had died down and silence filled the courtyard.

Looking up, you saw the culprit leaning over the balcony with a smile on his face, making sure it was known that he was the one who did it. Behind him, stood the rest of his brothers looking at you expectantly.

You couldn't believe it.

Prince Choi San beamed radiantly, looking at you with adoring eyes.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Male Reader spanking zoro after he put himself in danger? But zoro is still defending himself so reader becomes actually angry at zoro for not thinking about himself (or reader and how reader would live without him) and leaves zoro in the middle of the punishment before he says something he regrets and avoids zoro the next few days until the crew is like "this can't go on" and traps them together for an entire day in a room. They both break easily and end up cuddling for the most part (after some creampies)

Roronoa Zoro x male reader

headcanons

I love Zoro so much, its not even funny anymore.

Punishing Zoro was a chore in an of itself, since hes such a tough guy used to most types of pain. This also leads to him being very into painplay, so most usual methods of punishments don’t work on him.

It would take a lot of spanking to get Zoro to buckle, which is why he easily talks back when you do end up spanking him as punishment. Normally you would do something more advanced, mixing it with something else, but this time you are so worked up about almost losing him that you don’t have the energy.

Even as you scold him and tell him what a dumb idea it was to jump into danger like that, Zoro stats resolute in his decision, just squaring his shoulders and stabilizing his stance, letting you take your hand or paddle or whatever you’re using on him.

It ends up having the opposite effect of what you’re going for, since Zoro is probably still running on adrenaline from the fight you just got back from. Instead of making him cry and apologize, it has him shuddering and moaning, eye clenching shut as he tries to push his hips back at you.

But even then, he still defends what he did, even when you say you could have lost him, since its his duty as the strawhats swordsman and first mate.

It makes you so angry and makes your heart hurt so much you know you just need to step back before you say or do something you’ll regret, so you just lift your hands, step back, and leave with an angry exhale.

After being left wanting and shuddering like that, Zoro probably starts to feel kinda petty and wronged too, cuz he doesn’t see why you are so worked up about what he did.

So, you two start avoiding each other, and the ship gets super tense for literally everyone, especially since neither you or Zoro will tell the rest of the crew what is up. They all just know you two probably had a fight, and a bad one at that with how you guys are acting.

It starts to take a toll on the rest of the crew when you guys’ won’t even be in the same room together, or even talk to each other. They know it’s especially bad when you guys stop sleeping in the room Franky built specifically for you two, when you became a couple.

The next time the crew needs to restock, its probably Luffy that ends up trapping you guys in your room together, as he doesn’t want his crew to fight, and cuz literally everyone has been walking on eggshells.

This results in you and Zoro being trapped inside your room the entire day as the crew it away getting supplies and whatever they do on new islands.

Theres a lot of tense silence as you both sit on either side of the room, not even looking at each other for a while. I’m not even sure who cracks first and starts talking, if you are just as stubborn as Zoro.

But one of you starts opening up about it, and you end up explaining how much it hurts that Zoro cares so little for his own safety, and that he would just leave you behind so easily. Zoro, whos never really thought about it that deeply, feels his heart break that you thought he didn’t love you enough to want to stay.

Cue Zoro saying some super heartfelt thing about how you mean so much to him, and one of the reasons he tries to hard to keep the crew safe is cuz he loves you so much. He isn’t the best with words, but he gets it out in a way that has your heart warming up.

It ends up with you guys actually talking about your emotions, and with you two tumbling into bed together, kissing like you haven’t seen each other in months. Its surprisingly soft from both of you, kissing and touching and being so loving.

The breath is completely knocked out of you when Zoro starts riding you, because how couldn’t it, having all 198 lb. of muscular swordman bouncing up and down on your cock, his callused hands gripping at your shoulders or chest.

Zoro takes riding you as serious as any of his other exercise, his eye serious and face flushed as he uses just his thighs to lift and lower himself, not even letting you help in thrusting up into him. You just end up holding his hips and groping his torso, going along with the ride.

You guys are probably lucky that the entire crew is off the ship, or else they’d hear how loud Zoro moans when you hit his prostate and take his pecs into your mouth at the same time. You’ll probably end up with a headache from how hard he pulls your hair though, he loses track of his strength sometimes when riding you.

You get exhausted much longer before Zoro does, overstimulation sending electricity through your entire body as Zoro keeps riding you, even when your first load is squelching right out of him around your shaft.

Hes a beast, but he’s your beast, and if being sucked dry like a juice box is what it takes, you’ll happily do it. It just ends up with you feel extra dehydrated and shaky legged. This is why you normally wring him out in the beginning, so you can keep up with his insane stamina.

After Zoro has had his fill and painted your torso white with his own spend, he flops down beside you and buries his face into your neck, just inhaling you and needing you close.

You would end up clinging to him too, mumbling something about how you don’t wanna lose him, to which Zoro replies that you wont if he has anything to say about it.

Cue lots of softer and loving kisses and caresses, sweet words mumbled just between lovers, before you guys fall asleep. Zoro most likely ends up asleep first, for once completely asleep instead of the type of half naps he normally takes.

When the crew returns later, some of them will be able to guess immediately what you guys were up too, especially if your knees are still feeling weak from how much Zoro drained you.

But you guys are talking and back to acting like you normally do, so that’s all that matters. I could see Nami teasing you guys about it though, whilst Robin just laughs a little to herself because its entertaining.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Maria plz bring back the booty call i need it to continue

Your wish is my command, Nonnie! <33

The Booty-Call Dare - part 3

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, July prompt “Healing”

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: idiots idioting

Words: 1064 (sorry!!!!)

The decision to put Rowan’s key in separate keychains from her car and apartment was much more emotional than logistical, Aelin thought as she searched the bottom of her big work purse at his apartment door.

Having Rowan’s key was okay, a rational decision, but having it along with her own felt like too much. Looking after him while he healed from two broken ribs was inevitable—Aelin had work most of the day, but she was still the person he was closest with in town—this wasn’t what she was confused about.

She knocked on the door before opening it to make her presence known, just to be sure.

“Over here,” he called from the kitchen.

Aelin thought she loved that pre-hookup anticipation, but that hour of wait became a whole week, two more to come—the situation brought a queasy feeling in her stomach, always skipping between overjoyed and terrified.

In the kitchen, Aelin found her friend in a clumsy attempt to clean a white powder off the floor with a broom, an open jar of creatinine on the counter before him.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin said slowly, in a low but chastising tone. “You’re not allowed anywhere near a broom… or the gym!”

“I’m not! I—“ Rowan paused under her pointed look, busted between a broom and gym supplements. He sighed. “Have I told you how much I hate this?”

Aelin came closer to hug him, and decided to give him a leap of faith—he’d mentioned before taking creatinine even on his days off the gym, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to exercise with two broken ribs. These days of rest were taking a toll on him, she knew for a fact that Rowan hated feeling useless.

She pecked his lips. “My poor baby.” A few strokes on his cheek as Aelin struggled not to laugh. “Is all this rest stressing you out?”

“Not funny,” Rowan grumbled. Still, he leaned in to give her a warm kiss, biting her lips. “But I like this.”

“You like what?”

“When you call me ‘baby.’”

Shit. Those butterflies again.

Pesticides. Fly swatters. Nets. She needed to kill those butterflies because being with Rowan romantically, much like their friendship, felt too easy, too safe—too dangerous, risking the fall when their booty-call was fulfilled and she was left with nothing.

It was supposed to be a no-strings-attached hookup, and now they’ve been chastely canoodling for a week. It was the longest she’s ever waited before having sex with someone—this was an okay time, but they’ve been seeing each other daily, and Aelin never waited seven dates to sleep with a guy.

Does it count as a date if you’re dining together and kissing while waiting to fulfill a no-strings-attached booty-call?

“I’ll call you that again…” Aelin slid her hands from his head to his shoulders. “If you let me clean this mess. And wash your hair.”

Aelin didn’t miss the slightly greasy aspect of it, or the reason for it—his arm movements being limited due to the fracture.

Rowan ducked his head, his cheeks gained an adorable reddish color. When she looked at him, all thoughts and doubts that were floating around her like dust settled back down, and she only had half a mind to worry—Rowan was either kissing her thoughts away or driving her insane with his stubbornness.

Rowan opened his mouth to argue, but experience stopped him.

He doesn’t want to “take advantage” of her help.

She’s doing it whether he likes it or not.

They’ve had this conversation many times, in many ways this week.

To soften the blow to his feeling worthless, Aelin pressed their foreheads together and said in a sultry tone, “Wait for me in the tub, will ya?”

Rowan looked down at his torso and let out a pained breath. “Just so you know, this is not how I pictured you and me in the tub for the first time.”

Aelin chuckled and kissed his cheek before shipping him off to the bathroom. The creatinine mess was quick to clean, but she stayed a bit longer to assess things. His house was suspiciously clean. Too clean for someone who wasn’t supposed to do most house chores.

At the bathroom, she found him already dunked in water, patiently waiting. Aelin sat at the head of the tub and grabbed the bottle he’d strategically placed close to her: 2 in 1: shampoo & conditioner, the bottle said, before a huge picture of a pine tree. A huge upgrade from his ‘one soap for everything’ system.

“Very high-end stuff. Are you opening a hair salon, Buzzard?”

“I’ve got this little tuft now.” Rowan pointed at the short strands on the top of his head. “Gotta take care of it.”

Aelin had barely begun to massage his scalp when his eyes fell blissful closed, a serene, close-lipped smile on his lips.

“You’re no better than a house cat,” she said, massaging his head. He let out a low noise in his throat that might very well have been a purr.

It happens in moments like this, when Aelin looks at him and his mere existence sends her dangerous thoughts like Oh my God, I think I like you. It wouldn’t be a problem, as long as she found metaphorical pesticides to kill the butterflies soon.

Fingers in his hair, she leaned down to peer at his face. “Is this when you assume you’re better off telling me if you can’t do something?”

However, Rowan took advantage of their proximity to tug her face closer for a messy kiss. The position was a little awkward at first, but it got better when Aelin moved to his side, sitting on the edge of the tub.

Rowan’s kiss was slow, he hungrily explored her mouth with a rough touch on her hips. The fire he ignited under her skin made her melt into a needy puddle under his touch. Aelin kissed and nipped the skin of his neck, then went back to his mouth, pressing herself against him. It was only when they broke the kiss that she realized his wet body dampened her white shirt, making it near transparent—

“Fuck,” Rowan muttered under his breath, eyes on her torso before he sneaked his hands under Aelin’s shirt, one hand holding her waist and the other teasing her breast through the lace bra.

She moaned into the kiss and leaned closer to Rowan, but that single movement made her lose her balance; in the next moment, Aelin had fallen into the bathtub.

If she and Rowan couldn’t keep it together, the cold water did the trick and tampered the mood, Aelin realized as she laughed it off.

Rowan tugged her closer for a cuddle and kissed the top of her head, knowing they’d just found themselves on the verge of a forbidden strenuous activity.

One week down, two more to go. Aelin would never admit that the wait wasn’t so bad.

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