#better luck next time babe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsburns · 6 months ago

Text

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him.

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis.

Which he didn't.

You let him win.

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together.

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise.

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one.

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right?

Right?

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief.

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker.

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you.

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette.

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips.

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you.

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art.

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back.

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you.

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin.

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past.

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread.

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room.

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too.

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair.

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see.

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you.

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath.

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back.

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head.

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face.

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly.

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you.

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips.

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below.

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes.

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own.

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache.

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction.

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake.

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you."

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips.

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer.

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart,��he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop.

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger.

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch.

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard.

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man."

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm.

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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lowkeyremi · 2 months ago

Note

Hey pookie, love your work and I hope you’re having a great day so far. I would like to request Haikyuu men x reader but instead of them giving reader silent treatment, we’re giving them the silent treatment. I would also prefer if it’s the same guys too. Hope this isn’t too hard and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it. Sorry if in any way it sounded rude, love your style and all of your posts ❤️

SILENT TREATMENT PT 2 !

pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: hiii lovely!!! u don’t come off as rude at all so don’t even worry!! if anything I’m glad to write this. It’s just what I needed after coming back from my break. summary: men can be so irritating sometimes! what better way to deal with it than ignore them? (don’t do this irl, communicate is key!!!) content: slight angst to fluff, silliness, established relationships (marriage for a few + plus the same babies from the prev fic), cursing, reader is sassy, not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k

SUNA:

“Are you seriously ignoring me right now, babe?” Rintaro stared into your soul waiting for an answer. He knows the answer already but he’ll do anything for you to talk to him.

Instead of giving him answer, you just scoff and make your way to the bedroom, where you will most definitely lock him out.

“Come on, I’ve already apologized. What else can I do?” The brunette is right on your tail. Sometimes you forget that his height allows him to cover more space than you. He’s practically right behind you.

“You can leave me the hell alone, Suna.” Last name treatment? Yep. He’s 100% fucked up. You know in his eyes it’s not a big deal but you see it as a big deal.

Your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up from work today but he had forgotten, and one top of that he went out and got drinks with his friends. Not to mention you waited a whole hour thinking maybe he was running late or something. Once you called him and realized he forgot, an uber was called and you went home.

Just as you’re about to reach for the doorknob of your bedroom, Rintaro grabbed your wrist forcing you to stop.

“Let. Go.” You say through closed teeth.

“Please listen to me,” He’s… pleading? Your boyfriend never pleads for anything- well that’s an exaggeration, he rarely pleads for things.

“Start talking.”

“As I said earlier, I am very sorry, baby. I felt like I was forgetting something today, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Next time you need me to come get you, send me a text an hour before you get off work, okay?” His voice is tender and soft. Nothing like his usually snarky and playful attitude.

There’s a petty urge to not forgive him just yet, but at the same time, he’s being super sincere and honest. All you do is sigh and take your hand out of his grasp.

“If you’re really sorry, buy me dinner.” His mouth ticks up into a small smirk.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks.

TSUKISHIMA:

Kei tries to go in for a kiss, again, with no luck. He’s looking at you with the most lovesick look, because you always fall for it.

“I wasn’t laughing at you.” He says AGAIN, which is a lie. He was laughing at you and of course you’re mostly immune to Kei’s quips and remarks, but you were feeling a little butt hurt after he laughed at you.

“You WERE laughing at me, Kei.” His long, pale arm reaches for the baseball cap on your head, but before he can take it off you grab his hand and squeeze it as hard as you can.

“Ow- shit, that hurts.” He says trying to pry his hand from your grip.

“Yeah well that’s how I felt when you laughed.” You let go of his hand and turn away from him. You’re both sitting on the couch but you’re facing away from him.

“I’ve already told you, I wasn’t laughing at you, it just caught me by surprise.” A little “hmph” leaves your lips and you cross your arms.

Before Kei went to go get the groceries you told him you were going to do something to your hair, a slight adjustment. He’d only been half listening at the time, so when he walked in to see your hair, he started to laugh on instinct.

Of course you felt insecure and went to put on a baseball cap to cover it up.

“Can I see it again?” He asks very softly, his hand ghosts over your shoulder and you don’t lean away from his touch this time.

“Fine, but I swear if you fucking laugh, you’ll have to asking Yamaguchi if you can stay over at his place cuz I’ll kick you out.” His angelic little chuckle blesses your ears.

“Kick me out of the place we both pay for?” He asks, quite assumed at your statement.

“Yes.” Before he can get another word in you slowly take the cap off for him to see.

His hand creeps toward your head, he hesitates right when he’s about to touch your hair.

“Can I?” He’s so polite despite how mean he can be.

In an effort to remain salty you say, “I don’t care.”

His fingers are so gentle when touching your hair that you feel little tingles in your body.

“It’s really cute, babe. Let me just-” He moves a baby hair that’s sticking out, then his eyes meet yours. They’re so beautiful, but so are yours.

“I’m sorry for laughing.”

USHIJIMA:

It had been an accident therefore he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him. He thought that maybe you just wanted some time to yourself.

You waited hours for him to realize you were upset with him, but it never came. If anything you thought he was ignoring you. (That wasn’t true at all though)

Nao notices his parents haven’t talked to each other most of the day, so he comes to you. It’s almost his bedtime and you see that Wakatoshi had given him a bath and he’s got his pajamas on.

Little Nao climbs up your bed and crawls up to you, “Hi baby, what’s up?”

“You not talkin’ to Daddy?” Nao is very perceptive for a three year old.

“Um.. no.” He tilts his head at your response.

“Why?” How can you explain it in kid terms??

"Mommy's not happy with Daddy right now." He nods in understanding but proceeds to ask another question.

“Oh. But why?” Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s kind of childish.

This morning when the two of you woke up, Wakatoshi had asked if you’d seen his wedding ring. Then, proceeded to explain that he had taken it off when he went to work, because he left the chain he usually wears it on at home. So, he assumed it was somewhere in his bag. Of course he found it, but it just ticked you off that he had taken it off with little regard for it.

“A little disagreement is all.” Your son nods again and gives you a hug. He doesn’t like when you guys get into the occasional argument.

They don’t happen often, because you two are able to work stuff out. When they do happen you both agreed that they shouldn’t be in front of your son. Not only because it’s not right, but because Wakatoshi had grown up in a household where his parents constantly argued with little regard for how he felt on the matter. He would never subject Nao to that.

“It’s time for bed, Nao.” Wakatoshi says. How long has he been standing there?

“Okay, Daddy.” Nao kisses your cheek before scurrying off of your bed. Since he’s not good with noise control yet, you over here him asking Wakatoshi to make up with you, because he doesn’t like when you guys are unhappy with each other.

After twenty minutes your husband returns. “So you were upset with me?” It’s so like him to get straight to it.

“Yeah, I was kind of ignoring you until you came to me, but I forgot you can’t really pick up on those queues.” He nods, almost abnormal like. He rids himself of his shirt and turns the lights down.

After he’s done doing that, he joins you in the bed.

Right as you’re about to explain yourself he speaks up, “it’s because I had forgotten my ring, right?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

“Yes, and I see now that it was childish of me. You’re human, we all slip up.”

“No, no, I understand. I think I would be a little upset if you’d taken your ring off and tossed it somewhere.” He says, olive colored eyes looking into yours.

“You tossed it?” He shakes his head at the misunderstanding.

“I did not. I was just using it as an example.” Relief washes through you and you scoot closer to hug your husband. His skin feels so warm.

“Okay, good.”

“Are we alright now?” He asks hugging you back.

“Yes.”

OSAMU:

Never in a million years would you have thought you’d be staying at Atsumu’s place instead of your shared home with his brother, but yet here you are.

Speak of the devil Atsumu knocks on the guest room door and you tell him to come in.

“What’s up?” You’re pretty sure he’s going to ask you to talk to his brother. He’s been calling and texting you for the past three days. He’s probably been calling Atsumu too.

“Can ya just talk it out with him? ‘Samu’s been blowin’ up my phone, ‘n I know he’s probably been calling ya, too.” He looks tired of the both of you and you feel bad putting him in the middle of this mess, but there’s no way you’ll be talking to your husband anytime soon.

“No.” Atsumu sighs almost knowing you would say that.

“He’s worried about ya, ‘n I’m sure he’s very sorry too.”

Three days ago Osamu had a very busy and stressful day at the shop, it was just awful. When he arrived home it was evident that his day was shitty, so you tried to cheer him up.

That only made matters worse, as he proceeded to yell at you to “leave him the fuck alone.” and “your voice is making my head hurt.” Even though you knew he was saying that in the heat of the moment and he didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.

You yelled back at him telling him that you were doing what you could to make him feel better and that he was an asshole. When he didn’t say anything in return you rushed to the bedroom to pack a few days worth of clothes and get the hell out of there.

Was that a little bit extra? Yes. You could have probably just slept in your own guest room or on the couch, and then talk it out in the morning, but you were so pissed that your logic went straight out the door.

“Well… er… I-” You could see the guilt in Atsumu’s eyes when a string of loud knocks were heard.

“You called him over?” Atsumu looked away as not to meet your eyes.

“I caved when he said he was worried about ya ‘n ya didn’t even tell him where ya were goin’” Atsumu faked a cough before excusing himself to get the door.

Within seconds you see your husband standing at the bedroom door and your heart breaks when you see him. It had only been three days (2 nights) and he looked exhausted and miserable.

Before you could get a word in he dashes over to you and embraces you in a tight hug.

“Baby ‘m so so sorry.” He chants over and over.

“Please don’t do that again, ya scared the livin’ shit outta me.” Osamu was always better at hiding his accent than Atsumu, but when he was really stressed it would come out.

“I didn’t mean for you to worry like that, ‘Samu. I didn’t really think when I left.” He sits himself down on the bed not letting you go, he places you on his lap and you’re basically straddling him.

You squeeze him back just as tight. “I was so mad that you talked to me like that.”

“‘n I’ll never do it again. Even on my bad days ya don’t deserve that.”

You take in a big whiff of his cologne and you audibly relax in his arms.

“You better not because I might slap you next time.”

“Feel free to.” He says.

Atsumu ruins the moment with the most obnoxious fake gag, “Are ya straddl- actually I don’t fuckin’ care. Do that at yer own damn place!!”

SAKUSA:

When you woke up to your alarm, you realized Kiyoomi already left for work. Which that in and of itself wasn’t a problem. It was the fact that he left without dropping your daughter off for school.

Not to mention that you had a very important meeting with a client today. You got ready for work thinking about how you were doing well on time… until you noticed your daughter’s lunchbox sitting on the counter with nothing in it.

In breakneck pace, you ran to your daughter’s room to see that she was peacefully sleeping. “Oh baby, wake up we’ve got to go.” She starts to gain consciousness, her eyes squinting open when you turn on the light.

“Huh? I thought Daddy was taking me today.” Your little girl rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“He was but I guess he already left,” you search frantically for something simple but presentable for your daughter to wear.

“Oh, you’ve got your fancy business outfit on… is there something important today?” You’re so grateful to have a daughter who can read between the lines.

“Yes, there is but Mommy’s gonna be late.” She frowns up at that.

“Sorry.”

“Honey it’s not your fault, your father was the one who was supposed to take you.” She nods.

The two of you work together to get out of the house quickly so you won’t be that late.

Your daughter will only be running a few minutes late for school… as for you, your meeting started four minutes after you started driving to her to school, and the school is a twenty minute drive.

You’re gonna fucking kill your husband for this.

When you get to your daughter’s school she hops out immediately and says her goodbyes.

“Bye sweet girl! Have a great day at school!!” Of course you won’t let your anger get the best of you… for right now.

Luckily, your client was kind enough to excuse you being almost thirty minutes late, but it was still embarrassing nonetheless.

Some of your coworkers teased you a little bit afterwards.

“Slept in?” One who’s particularly close to you (he calls you his work wife and Kiyoomi hates it) asks nudging your arm.

“Nope, my husband forgot to take our daughter to school this morning.” A loud sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Yikes, bet he’s gonna be in the doghouse for awhile.” He snorts.

“Hell yeah he will be. I’m just wondering, how in the world did he forget?? He’s better at remembering things between the two of us.” And that’s the truth. You’re curious as to what his excuse will be.

“Well he’s human too, ‘course he’s bound to screw up at sometime.” Even though he’s right, you let your pettiness take over and decide that you won’t give Kiyoomi the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m home,” you hear your husband shout from the genkan. Your daughter is at the table doing homework and you’re sitting with her browsing through your phone.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He walks in to the kitchen greeting his daughter with a kiss on her forehead.

“Hi, Daddy.” She says with a small smile.

“Hey baby.” As he leans in to kiss your forehead too, you dodge it.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “You okay?” Kiyoomi smells like his body wash and shampoo. Usually you’d be happy to have your nostrils filled with the smell of his post practice shower, but right now it just upsets you.

You got up from the table and walked away without answering his question. He obviously attempted to follow you to the bedroom, only for the door to be shut in his face.

“Hey what’s up with you?” You can hear the irritation in his voice through the door. He has no right to be irritated though.

Instead of answering him you make yourself comfortable on the bed.

After ten minutes of him trying to ask you what was wrong and literally begging you started to feel bad enough and open the door.

“What’s wrong is that you forgot to take our daughter to school this morning, causing me to be late to a very important meeting with a client.” His eyes widen in horror at your statement.

“Shit, I’ve been so focused on how I was going to go about this upcoming fan event for the past couple of days, that I completely forgot. You have every right to be mad.” Right, your husband still isn’t very social, and he still hates receiving gifts from his fans. Of course he’d been trying to figure out how to make an appearance, but not interact with anyone.

“Damn right, luckily my client was nice but it was still embarrassing.” He frowns.

“I apologize, and I’ll make sure to do better next time.” You roll your eyes and pull him in for that kiss.

“Yeah yeah, I guess you forget things too.”

IWAIZUMI:

Iwa hasn’t realized it, but while helping out this girl at the gym (he’s an athletic trainer and he couldn’t sit there and watch that girl screw up pull ups any longer) he was so oblivious to her obvious flirting.

She would bend over in those tight leggings, or hold onto his bicep for support. And yes, it was dumb for you to be upset with him, because one, you’re his wife and he only has eyes for you, and two, he didn’t even realize she was flirting with him.

“How are your sets coming along, baby?” He came over to ask you while the girl was getting water. Yeah, you know how to do all of these work outs, but you like having your man right there to spot you and correct your posture in the slightest way.

You pretend you don’t hear him, because you’re listening to music in your headphones. To sell the deal, you even mouth the lyrics of the song.

He raises a brow in concern. As soon as he goes to say something, the woman returns, “Iwazumi-san? I’m ready to continue!”

“I’ll be back.” He says, running back to that woman. You roll your eyes as you come down for a squat with a 25 lb kettlebell in your hands.

By the time you’re cooling down on the treadmill, Iwaizumi returns to you.

“What’s wrong with you?” He knows you can hear him, because even when you’re working out together, you keep your headphones at a reasonable volume, so you can hear him.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s up with you letting that woman touch all over you?” In an effort to ignore him again you turn the speed up on the treadmill.

“Really? Baby, you know my job requires me to touch people.”

“God, I know that. I’m not even talking about you, I’m talking about how she was all over you, and you didn’t even notice or anything.” He’s laughing? You just told him how you feel and he laughs?

He walks over to the front of the treadmill where all the buttons are and slows it down to a walking speed.

“Honey, I told her to stop touching me more than what was necessary. It was indecent and inappropriate. Then I told her I was married to you and I think she decided to keep going…” He pauses for a second waiting for you to come to a walking pace.

“Wanna know what I told her next?” He takes your silence as a sign to keep going, “I said ‘I suggest you stop provoking my wife, she knows how to fight and I would hate to see her behind bars for something like this.’” He smirks at you and you look away in embarrassment.

“And you were really going at it during your workout so I’m assuming she took my word for it.”

You stop the treadmill and hop off to stand right in front of your husband.

“Sorry for being so petty.” He just smiles at you.

“No don’t apologize, I don’t blame you babe. I’d be the same way if some guy was all over you, with no good reason.” You grab him by the collar of his compression shirt, “You’re so damn hot. Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

Note: last purple post!! 🥹 since i started this while my theme was purple. the hardest part of writing this was coming up with something sensible to be upset about 😭

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maxverstappendefender · 3 months ago

Text

daddy issues // ln4 smau

description: cat owning!girlfriend x lando norris

summary: lando having beef with his girlfriend’s cat who also happens to have an instagram account

requests: open! i take requests for any drivers 🤍

a/n: i love thinking about lando and pets so here you go!! my besties cat is named barracuda (barry for short) so yk i had to mention her. i do not own any images used, all found on pinterest.

masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, barracuda101, and 829,016 others

youruser: barracuda appreciation post because i love my sweet girl 🤍

tagged: barracuda101

view all comments

landonorris: cute (talking about you, never barracuda)

↳ youruser: this is why she attacks you

user1: barracuda and yn posts!!

user2: cat mums unite

maxverstappen1: jimmy and sassy play date with barracuda when?

↳ charles_leclerc: barracuda is WAY too sophisticated for your cats

↳ user3: we all know charles is lying

landonorris: you kick me out of bed so she can cuddle. i will not be liking the post.

user4: “barracuda > lando” - yn, probably

barracuda101: BEST MUMMY ON EARTH

barracuda101: #livinglife

liked by youruser, mclaren, and 1,957,463 others

landonorris: the “sweet girl” that my girlfriend loves more than me

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barracuda101: at me next time bitch

↳ user5: barracuda supremacy

↳ user6: you tell him barracuda!

barracuda101: i only bite you because you taste yummy 😁

↳ user7: now we know damn well this is yn

youruser: how dare you post these bad photos of our baby

↳ landonorris: it’s her true colours babe. the world must know

user8: not lando outing his cat child on the internet

liked by youruser, f1, and 2,915,863 others

barracuda101: cannot believe this man is my dad. alexa play ‘daddy issues’ by the neighbourhood

tagged: landonorris

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youruser: i stand with you barracuda! ✊

↳ user9: imagining yn logging into barracuda’s account just to post this has me crying

user10: she came for blood with this one

landonorris: barracuda.

↳ barracuda101: the world must know your “true colours”

↳ user11: preach barracuda

liked by mclaren, danielricciardo, and 2,467,017 others

barracuda101: beefing with my dad at the moment. no one hmu 💔😔

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user12: we stand with you barracuda

youruser: it’ll be okay baby. we’ll get through this

↳ landonorris: tf?

danielricciardo: im so sorry you are going through this at the moment. he doesn’t deserve you!

↳ user13: not danny too

↳ user14: barracuda got everyone on her side

mclaren: we will have some words with your dad barracuda.

↳ barracuda101: i would really appreciate that 😔

↳ landonorris: huhhhhhhh??????

liked by youruser, barracuda101, and 817,390 others

landonorris: she gives black cat energy… girlfriend appreciation post though!

tagged: youruser

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youruser: awww love you

barracuda101: I MADE IT TO THE PUBLIC INSTAGRAM IN A GOOD PHOTO…

↳ user15: barracuda is finally getting her well deserved justice

user16: is your girlfriend single???

user17: im no better than a man at this point

mclaren: wag of the century 🧡

liked by barracuda101, landonorris, and 925,016 others

youruser: barry (barracuda) appreciation post 🧡

tagged: barracuda101

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landonorris: wow, i post an appreciation post for you and you post barry instead

↳ barracuda101: tough luck

↳ user18: dead asf

user19: cannot believe this is the cat that THE lando norris has beef with

user20: yn and barracuda = ultimate combo

f1: one of the many pets of the paddock!

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 924,826 others

youruser: boyfriend appreciation post too ig… 🧡

tagged: landonorris

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user21: yn is feeding the girlies

landonorris: finally!!! love you 🧡

user22: we love boyfriend lando

user23: barracuda is being real quiet about this

↳ user24: she’s fuming, ik it

↳ youruser: literally

mclaren: lando nowins who?

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 2,016,538 others

barracuda101: y’all. im heartbroken at my mother’s instagram post. i thought i was the only one in her heart. currently giving her the cold shoulder. anyone need a new cat?

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danielricciardo: my poor barry

↳ youruser: YOUR barry?!

maxverstappen1: i can take you in barracuda!

↳ landonorris: worry bout yourself

user25: you’ll get through this barry!!

user26: brighter days are ahead

user27: the way barracuda gets more likes than her parents is absolutely hilarious

liked by landonorris, barracuda101, and 825,743 others

youruser: spot the difference - level: impossible

tagged: barracuda101, landonorris

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user28: they’re the same picture

landonorris: NAHHHH DELETE THISSSSS

↳ barracuda101: i agree.

user29: yn and her sombrero wearing roommates

schecoperez: barry 🖤

↳ user30: CHECO?! YOU TOO?!

liked by barracuda101, youruser, and 924,736 others

landonorris: BREAKING NEWS‼️ barracuda and i are now like this 🤞

tagged: barracuda101

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youruser: my two babies 🖤🧡

barracuda101: he gave me some treats guys 🎀😸😎🤞🤪🥺🩷

↳ user31: we all knew there had to be some motive

user32: WAR IS OVER

danielricciardo: so does this mean i can’t adopt barracuda?

↳ maxverstappen1: my question exactly

↳ youruser: you two were never an option to be barracuda’s godfather. like never ever.

↳ charles_leclerc: can’t relate. im happily the godfather

↳ maxverstappen1: if you get shunted into the wall in turn 1… wasn’t me

↳ danielricciardo: 😈

#Lando Norris smau #Lando Norris #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #ln4 smau #ln4 fanfic #f1 #formula one #ln4 x reader #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #smau #fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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chosok-amo · 2 months ago

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HELP ME, MAN! : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you, their little girlfriend, scared the shit out of your boyfriends. they don't know why, how, them, the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the modern world are scared of their girlfriend.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fem! reader. anger issues mentioned, you scared the shit out of them. fluff.

wc. | ( 𝜗𝜚 ) masterlist

( 𝜗𝜚 ) art belongs to the artist.

being the strongest sorcerers in the modern world, gojo satoru and geto suguru didn’t know fear. they had faced countless curses, fought against the worst of the worst, and never once backed down. no matter how dangerous, no matter how terrifying the curse, they’d come out on top, especially when they worked together. their bond and strength were unmatched. they could take on anything the world threw at them without flinching.

but there was one thing that shook them to their core. something even worse than a thousand cursed spirits combined.

you.

their fiery, sarcastic little girlfriend, who had more rage bottled up in her than any curse they’d ever faced. when you were angry, it wasn’t just explosive—it was terrifying. your sharp tongue, your piercing glares, and the way you could tear them apart with a single, biting comment. they’d rather face off against the worst special-grade curse than deal with your wrath.

and right now, they were both standing in front of you, like guilty children caught red-handed. you were pacing back and forth, arms crossed, the air thick with tension. they could handle anything… anything but this.

“so,” you started, your voice cold and sarcastic, “which one of you wants to explain this mess?” your eyes flicked between them, daring one of them to speak up.

gojo, never one to shy away from a challenge, opened his mouth, though his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “babe, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” he tried to play it off, but even he knew he was walking on thin ice.

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “wasn’t that bad? really, satoru? because to me, it looks like you completely ignored the one thing i asked for.”

geto stood to the side, looking like he was praying for some sort of divine intervention. he knew better than to jump in too soon, but he also knew you were right. they’d messed up. and badly.

“idiot, stop talking,” geto said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm, though his own nerves were clearly showing. then, he turned to you, his tone soft and apologetic. “we’re sorry. we really didn’t mean to mess this up, it just—”

“oh, so you’re both sorry? well, that fixes everything,” you cut him off, your sarcasm biting. “i guess next time i’ll just expect the bare minimum from the two of you.”

gojo winced, trying to shrink into the background, and even geto, usually calm and composed, was struggling to keep his cool under your stare. the two of them could take on anything, but this? this was something entirely different.

you could feel their unease, but it didn’t soften your mood just yet. “i ask for one thing,” you continued, pacing again, “and what do you do? exactly the opposite.” your voice rose with each word, your frustration clear. gojo shot a glance at geto, mouthing, “what do we do?”

geto shrugged helplessly, though he knew there was only one way out of this—admitting they were wrong. completely and utterly wrong. “look, we really messed up, okay? we’ll make it right, i swear. just… don’t be mad at us, alright?” he sounded genuine, his usual stoic tone now laced with concern.

you stopped pacing, your arms still crossed, and looked at both of them. “you better. because if you think i’m mad now, wait until i’m really pissed.” they both nodded, practically in unison. they knew better than to push their luck. after all, you were the one thing that could truly strike fear into their hearts. curses? no problem. a pissed-off girlfriend with anger issues? that was another story entirely.

“we’ll fix it,” gojo promised, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual, clearly trying to get back in your good graces. “yeah, we’ll do whatever it takes,” geto added, backing him up, eyes serious.

you watched them for a long moment, letting the tension hang in the air before sighing. “good. because the last thing i want is to be disappointed again.” they both exhaled in relief, knowing they were getting a second chance. you may have been their biggest weakness, but you were also their greatest strength—keeping them in check when nothing else could.

I DIDN'T SLAM THE DOOR, I SWEAR!

there was also a moment—just like any other day—when you and gojo found yourselves in a small argument. nothing major, just one of those little things that built up over time. this time, it was about him always leaving his clothes on the floor. no matter how many times you asked, it seemed like he just couldn’t get the hang of putting them in the hamper.

you stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, glaring at the pile of clothes that had been tossed haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. “again, satoru?” your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket? it’s right there.”

gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looked up at you, his signature grin plastered on his face, but you could see the nervousness behind it. “come on, doll. it’s not that big of a deal, right? they’re just clothes.”

“just clothes? satoru, you’ve been leaving them everywhere—everywhere—for weeks. i’m not your maid!” you snapped, waving your hand toward the scattered mess. “you’re lucky i haven’t thrown them all out by now.”

gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your annoyance. “oh, come on, you wouldn’t throw them out. you love me too much for that.” he leaned back on the bed, the smirk growing wider. “besides, you could always pick them up yourself if it’s that important,“ he added, the taunt subtle but noticeable.

your eyes narrowed, the irritation bubbling up even more. he knew exactly what he was doing—pushing your buttons, trying to get a rise out of you. and it was working. you clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping right away, but the frustration was hard to contain.

“satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm as you looked at him. “i am not your maid. i’m not here to clean up after you like some kind of personal assistant.”

he opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your temper flaring. “i already deal with enough without having to pick up your damn clothes every single day. you know i hate it when the house is messy, and you still leave your stuff everywhere. why? because you think i’ll just clean it up for you?”

his smirk wavered, just for a second, as he saw how serious you were. he might have been teasing, but he knew when you were on the verge of losing your patience. and right now? you were teetering on the edge.

gojo sat there, the smirk replaced by a hint of uneasiness. he hadn’t expected you to get this mad, but then again, he should have known. you weren’t one to back down easily, especially when it came to this issue.

he swallowed hard, trying to salvage the situation. “okay, okay, i get it. i know you’re not my maid. but come on, it’s just a few clothes. it really doesn’t take that much effort to pick them up, does it?”

you could feel your irritation spike even higher at his words, and your eyes narrowed. the way he was downplaying it, acting like it was no big deal, just pushed you closer to your breaking point. if it didn’t take much effort, then why couldn’t he do it?

“if it’s so easy, satoru,” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, “then why can’t you do it?”

without giving him a chance to respond, you bent down, grabbing one of the shirts from the pile of discarded clothes and hurled it at him. the fabric hit his chest, and he blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that reaction.

“you think it’s not a big deal, right? it’s just a few clothes, no effort at all,” you continued, grabbing another piece of clothing and throwing it at him. “then why do you keep leaving them everywhere? because i’ll pick them up for you? i told you, satoru, i’m not your maid.”

gojo sat there, eyes wide, the smirk completely eradicated as you hurled clothes at him. he flinched each time one hit him, and he didn’t say a word, recognizing he’d messed up.

when you grabbed another shirt, he finally spoke, his voice softer. “babe, wait—”

you didn’t stop, your eyes blazing, and he saw the real anger blazing in them. “you think it’s funny to disrespect me like this? to treat me like some kind of servant?”

gojo looked at you, his usual confident facade cracking under your intense glare. he knew he messed up, but he still tried to keep some of his usual attitude, though it faltered when he spoke. “it’s not that big of a deal, doll, come on. i’m just a bit messy, isn’t that part of the charm?”

he knew the moment those words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. your expression darkened even more, and another shirt hit him.

gojo’s confidence shattered the second the words left his mouth. he saw the way your expression darkened, eyes narrowing even further as the tension in the room spiked. before he could even backtrack, another shirt flew at him, hitting him square in the face. he froze for a second, blinking as the fabric slid off his head.

“wrong move, dickhead,” he thought, his heart speeding up just a bit as he noticed the way you were glaring at him, practically daring him to say something else.

without another word, gojo shot up from the bed, all traces of his usual cockiness gone. “okay, okay! i’ll clean it up!” he stammered, frantically bending down to gather the clothes you had thrown at him. he moved faster than he ever did in a fight, scrambling to pick up the scattered mess around the room.

you stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a piercing stare as he scurried around the floor, picking up every last piece of clothing with a nervous energy. the man who faced down curses without blinking an eye was now clearly scared of you.

gojo moved quickly, rushing to pick up all the clothes, his heart pounding the whole time. he had faced down some of the worst curses in the world, fought against overwhelming odds, but this? this was something else entirely.

he could feel your gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, and he knew better than to make any snide comments or try to joke his way out of this. he was in the doghouse, and he knew it. as he finally gathered the last of the clothes into a messy pile, he stood there, glancing up at you, his usual confident demeanor completely vanished before he quickly left the room.

gojo, in his frantic rush to escape the room, accidentally slammed the door behind him with more force than he intended. the loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he froze for a split second, his eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him. “shit.” without wasting another moment, he bolted down the hall, clutching his clothes like his life depended on it.

he raced into the living room, where geto was sitting on the couch, looking far too tense for someone who hadn’t been directly involved. geto had heard everything. every word of the argument had reached him, and he hadn’t dared to intervene—not with you in that mood. he knew better. much better.

when gojo came running in, face pale and eyes wide, geto’s first instinct was to flinch, his muscles tensing even more. gojo practically threw himself at geto, clinging to him like a lifeline, the pile of clothes still in his arms. “suguru, help me! she’s gonna kill me, man. i didn’t mean to slam the door, i swear!”

geto, whose nerves were already frayed from listening to the argument, quickly pushed gojo away, eyes wide with alarm. “fuck off, satoru!” he hissed, scrambling to put some distance between them. “don’t want to be anywhere near you when she starts yelling again. i don’t need to get dragged into this.”

gojo blinked at him, clearly desperate for any sort of support. “but—but you’re supposed to have my back!”

“not when it comes to her,” geto shot back, keeping his voice low in case you were nearby. “do you know how terrifying she is when she’s pissed? no way, man. you’re on your own for this one.“

gojo groaned, his shoulders sagging as he slumped onto the couch beside geto, still clutching the clothes. “come on, suguru. you can’t just leave me to deal with this by myself. we’re in this together, remember?“

before geto could even muster a response, both of them froze at the sound of your heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. it was slow but deliberate, each step echoing louder than the last. gojo’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a terrified glance at geto, who was looking equally tense. neither of them dared to move, as if staying perfectly still might make them invisible.

“satoru,” geto whispered, voice barely audible as his eyes darted toward the doorway, “you better hide or something, man. i don’t want to be involved when she gets here.”

“go where?!” gojo hissed back, frantically looking around the living room for some sort of escape route. but there was nowhere to go, no time to run. he was trapped. the footsteps grew louder, and gojo’s heart pounded in his chest. “oh no, oh no, she’s coming…” he muttered under his breath, gripping his clothes tighter.

“this is your fault,” geto whispered harshly, scooting a few inches away from gojo. “you’re the one who pissed her off.“

“satoru…!” your voice called from down the hallway, sharp and unamused. both men stiffened at the sound, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t going to be good. gojo’s face drained of color as he leaned closer to geto, whispering desperately, “don’t leave me, man! i’ll do anything—just don’t let her kill me!”

geto looked at him, weighing his options, but before he could say anything, there you stood, arms crossed, your glare fixed on gojo like a laser. your presence alone filled the room with an intense pressure that made even the strongest sorcerers feel small. “satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm, “did you just slammed the door?”

gojo was frozen, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. he looked back and forth between you and geto, the panic clear on his face. “uh, i...i didn’t mean to,” he squeaked, the clothes clutched tightly in his hands.

geto, watching the scene, leaned back into the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with you. he knew better than to draw your attention.

you didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow, and the silence was enough to make both gojo and geto sweat. finally, you spoke again, your voice laced with irritation. “do you want to try that again?”

gojo immediately shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “n-no! absolutely not, babe!” he blurted out, his voice shaky. “i swear, i wouldn’t do that again! it was totally an accident! i didn’t mean to slam the door, i promise!”

he stood there, practically trembling under your glare, clutching his clothes like they were his shield. “i’ll be so careful next time—no more slamming doors. i’ll tiptoe if i have to!” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation.

geto, who was watching from the couch, subtly leaned back, clearly relieved that gojo was taking the brunt of your anger and praying he wouldn’t get dragged into it.

gojo looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping his quick apology would be enough to cool your anger. “i’ll be good, i swear,” he added, his voice softening, hoping to appeal to your softer side. but your expression remained firm, leaving him to sweat just a little longer, wondering if he'd escaped this round of your wrath—or if he was still in trouble. you slowly nod before walking away back to your shared bedroom without taking your eyes off of him.

gojo let out a shaky breath as you walked away, the silence in the room almost deafening. he stood there, frozen in place, clutching his clothes tightly and wondering if he was really off the hook or if you were just planning something even worse.

geto, who had been watching the scene unfold, let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his tense muscles. “jesus, man,” he whispered, turning to look at gojo. “i don’t know how you do it. i’d be shitting my pants right now if i was in your shoes.”

WHITE TURN PINK

you stormed into the living room, laundry basket in hand, grumbling under your breath. your favorite white button-up shirt was now an embarrassing shade of pale pink, along with almost all the white clothes from the load. it didn’t take long to piece together what happened: one of them had carelessly thrown pink clothes in with the whites.

as you stood in front of gojo and geto, blocking their view of the video game they were so engrossed in, they immediately began to protest. “hey, we were—” gojo started, but the moment they looked up and saw the expression on your face, their words died in their throats.

your eyes were narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. you were pissed, and they could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“who’s turn was it to do the laundry?” you asked, your voice low but laced with enough irritation to make them both sit up a little straighter. without missing a beat, gojo’s hand shot up, pointing directly at geto. “it was him!” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

geto’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward gojo in disbelief. “seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at him for the betrayal. but when he turned back to face you, his defiance melted away, replaced with sheer panic as he saw you holding up the now pink shirt.

geto could feel shivers running down his spine, his heart racing at the sight of your anger and the tainted shirt clutched in your hands. he wanted to protest, to deny the accusation that gojo had so shamelessly thrown at him, but one glance at your face told him it was pointless.

he swallowed hard, glancing at gojo who had the gall to give him a shrug and a smirk, as if it wasn’t his fault this had happened. but geto didn’t have time to deal with that right now. right now, he had to survive this. “care to explain this?” you asked, holding up the evidence.

geto could feel the color draining from his face, his mind racing as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing excuse. he shot a glare at gojo, silently vowing to get him back for this later, but right now, he had to handle the wrath of you.

“i...uh...” he stuttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to find the right words.

but before he could say anything more, gojo piped up beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament. “come on, tell her,"” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

gojo’s smirk didn’t last long. the second you shifted your glare toward him, your eyes narrowing dangerously, his confidence evaporated. you didn’t have to say a word—the intensity of your stare was enough to make him freeze in place. his lips clamped shut, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender, silently mouthing a “sorry” as he shrank back into the couch.

the teasing look was gone in an instant, replaced with one of sheer regret. gojo knew better than to push you any further when you were this angry. his eyes darted between you and geto, desperately hoping the attention would stay on his best friend and not shift back to him.

the atmosphere in the room was heavy, the tension palpable as both gojo and geto sat there, silent and clearly nervous about your next move.

gojo avoided your gaze, opting to find the most interesting spot on the floor to focus on, all his earlier cockiness gone. he couldn’t believe he’d so effortlessly thrown geto under the bus, and now they were both neck-deep in your wrath. geto, on the other hand, still looked like a deer in headlights, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the pink shirt.

your gaze slowly shifted back to geto, who visibly tensed under the weight of your stare. you crossed your arms, eyes still sharp as you raised an eyebrow. “well?” you prompted, your voice low but demanding. “explain.”

geto’s heart thudded in his chest, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy as he tried to form words under your intense scrutiny. he swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to come up with any sort of explanation that might appease you.

“i...i...” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “i just...i didn’t...uh...”

he trailed off, his eyes darting to where gojo sat, silently mouthing, “help me, man!” but gojo only shrugged, unwilling to come to his aid and risk drawing your anger back towards himself.

geto’s throat went dry. his usual calm and collected demeanor was nowhere to be found as he fumbled for words. he could feel the color draining from his face, his mind scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t make things worse. but there was no escaping this one.

“i—uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “i didn’t realize the pink clothes were mixed in with the whites. it was an honest mistake, i swear.” he glanced over at gojo for a split second, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but gojo was firmly staring at the floor, wisely avoiding your gaze after nearly getting himself in deeper trouble.

“i didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” geto continued, his voice softening as he gave you a tentative, apologetic look. “i’ll… i’ll fix it. i promise.” you didn’t say anything at first, just continued to glare at him, making him squirm under the silence. geto knew he had messed up, and the longer you stared at him, the more he regretted it.

the silence was deafening, and geto fidgeted nervously, the weight of your glare like a vise around his throat. gojo watched from the corner of his eye, still trying to act casual even as the tension in the room grew.

geto swallowed hard, his mind racing for anything that might soften your anger. “listen, i know i messed up,” he began, his voice dropping to a quiet, contrite tone. “but i swear, i’d never do it on purpose. it was an error, a genuine mistake. it won't happen again.”

“damn right it won’t,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “because you two are redoing the laundry now.” gojo, still sitting stiffly beside geto, looked like he wanted to say something smart but quickly thought better of it. geto, on the other hand, sighed in defeat, clearly knowing there was no getting out of this.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, both knowing that they had no choice but to follow your command. gojo let out a weary sigh, already dreading the chore ahead, while geto simply nodded in submission.

“yes, ma’am,” geto murmured, rising from the couch. gojo followed suit, reluctantly getting to his feet as well. the two men both looked like puppies that had just been chastised as they trailed after you as you led the way to the laundry room.

with matching groans of reluctance, the two strongest sorcerers in the world—men who had faced countless curses without fear—got up from the couch, heads hanging low, and shuffled toward the laundry room like a pair of scolded children.

as they passed, you shook your head, muttering under your breath, “honestly, how hard is it to separate the colors?” geto shot gojo a sideways glance. “this is your fault,” he hissed, still holding a grudge from being thrown under the bus. gojo shrugged, looking unapologetic. “hey, better you than me, man.”

“you owe me,” geto muttered darkly, glaring at him as they got to work on fixing their laundry disaster, while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed, making sure they did it right this time.

they both muttered and grumbled under their breath as they sorted through the laundry, each taking their turn to throw in a sarcastic comment.

“you know, for being the strongest, we sure do spend a lot of time sorting socks,” geto grumbled, holding up a black one that had somehow gotten mixed in with the white.

gojo rolled his eyes, grabbing the sock from his friend and dropping it into the correct pile. “well, if you had been more careful—”

“oh shut up, satoru.”

you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you watched gojo and geto sort through the laundry, their faces set in identical frowns. they muttered to each other under their breath, casting glances in your direction every now and then, clearly miffed about being forced into this chore.

as the two men carefully separated the clothes, making sure to keep the colors apart this time, you couldn’t help but smirk. the sight of them working diligently, like a pair of scolded children, was a sight to see. you can hear them blaming each other. “stop fighting,” you tell them.

they both stop their bickering and look up at you. gojo starts to open his mouth, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he quickly closes it. “we’re not fighting,” geto mutters, continuing to sort through the laundry, careful to avoid any more pink shirts.

gojo rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath, but you catch it anyway. “what was that?” you ask sharply, pinning him with a look.

gojo swallows hard, realizing he’s been caught. “nothing,” he mutters sheepishly.

WE HAVE TO STAND FOR OURSELVES

in the kitchen, geto and gojo stood side by side, leaning against the counter, their expressions tense but trying to appear more confident than they actually were. they glanced nervously toward the hallway, making sure you weren’t nearby as they quietly discussed their situation.

“we’re the strongest sorcerers in the world,” gojo muttered, half-convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince geto. “we shouldn’t be scared of her. she’s… she’s just one girl. smaller than us. it’s ridiculous.”

geto nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his agreement. “right. we face curses and danger all the time. we can’t let her… you know, terrorize us in our own house. we’re the men in the relationship.”

they had a point. they had faced deadly curses and powerful sorcerers without flinching. but here they were, nervously tip-toeing around their girlfriend like frightened schoolboys.

“absolutely,” gojo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “we can’t let her intimidate us. we’re stronger than her. we’re the strongest.” geto nodded again, though he seemed a bit less sure this time. “we need to show her that we won’t be pushed around... right?”

they both tried to sound resolute, but there was a visible nervousness in their body language—shoulders tense, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, like they were expecting you to burst in at any moment.

“yeah,” gojo added, his voice lowering as if he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “we can’t let her push us around. i mean, come on. we’re gojo satoru and geto suguru. we shouldn’t be scared of her. right?”

but even as the words left his mouth, the doubt was clear. geto let out a small sigh, nodding but with much less confidence than before. “yeah, totally. we shouldn’t be scared… at all.”

there was a brief pause as both of them exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to admit just how much they were actually afraid of upsetting you. their bravado was shaky at best.

the silence stretched on. clearly, both men were starting to panic. they were not used to feeling weak, and to have you—someone they cared about and respected—wielding so much power over them was uncomfortable to say the least.

“so we...we should confront her, right? show her we're not afraid?” gojo asked, more for reassurance than anything else. geto nodded half-heartedly, his own confidence flagging as the thought of facing you head-on filled him with unease.

just as their uncertainty reached its peak, the echo of your footsteps rang through the hallway. they both went still, their eyes wide as they heard you approaching and turned to look at each other in panic. the color drained from their faces, and all the bravado they had been trying to muster moments ago completely evaporated.

you appeared in the hallway, looking nothing like the terrifying figure they had been hyping themselves up to face. instead, you were dressed in your cozy cat printed pajamas, your hair slightly messy, and you looked more like someone ready for a peaceful evening than the source of their terror. you seemed so casual and calm, it was almost comical.

but despite how cute and harmless you looked, the effect on the two strongest sorcerers was instant. when you reached them and stood in front of them, a casual look on your face as you were about to ask what they were up to, they immediately went into panic mode. without a second thought, both men dropped to their knees, their faces showing sheer dread.

“it was all suguru’s idea!” gojo blurted out immediately, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation, his eyes wide with fear. he didn’t even give geto a chance to protest before continuing. “he said we should stand up to you, that we’re the strongest sorcerers and shouldn’t be scared. i—I told him it was a bad idea!“

geto glared at gojo, but he was too terrified to defend himself properly. “i—what?! you were the one who said we shouldn’t let her push us around!” he stammered, trying to shift the blame back.

you looked at them, clearly confused by their sudden and dramatic display of fear. your eyebrows knitted together as you took in the sight of gojo and geto kneeling in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes wide with distress. it was such a stark contrast to the usual confident and unflappable demeanor they showed in almost every other situation.

“what is going on with you two?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. “why are you both on the floor?” you glanced between them, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before you. the sight of them so unnerved and trying to pass the blame off on each other was bewildering. your calm demeanor and casual attire made the whole situation seem even more surreal.

they both looked up at you, their faces a mixture of fear and shame. gojo opened his mouth to speak, but geto cut him off immediately, wanting to defend himself.

“please, we're sorry,” geto blurted out, his voice quavering slightly. “we were just... uh...”

gojo chimed in, his voice still panicked. “we were just... messing around. yeah, messing around. just having a bit of fun.” they look at you, silently begging for forgiveness and trying hard to hide their previous arrogance.

you looked at them, your expression turning from confusion to genuine puzzlement as you tried to make sense of their frantic apologies and conflicting explanations. “messing around? having fun?” you repeated, clearly unsure of what they were talking about.

“what are you guys even saying?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. you took a step closer, still trying to understand what could have prompted such an over-the-top reaction. “seriously baby, what’s going on? did i miss something?” your hands softly find their cheek, gently rubbing your thumbs across their skin.

the feeling of your hands on their cheeks was both soothing and embarrassing. they leaned into your touch, their bodies still tense with anxiety.

“we... we were just...” gojo began, his voice cracking slightly. geto cut him off again, clearly not wanting his friend to say anything else that could dig them deeper into trouble.

“it's nothing, really,” he mutters, looking up at you with a mix of guilt and shame. “just a silly argument. we're sorry if we worried you.” their panicked expressions soften slightly as they look up at you, still on their knees. they look so pathetic, and so uncharacteristically vulnerable, that it's almost endearing.

you looked down at them, your expression softening as you saw their vulnerable and somewhat endearing state. a small, amused smile played at the corners of your lips as you reached out to gently stroke their cheeks.

“you two weren't in bed,” you said, your tone light and soothing, “i was looking for you two. i just wanted to see if my boyfriends wanted to cuddle or hang out. i didn’t realize you were having such a… dramatic moment.”

the tension in their bodies seemed to ease at your words and soft touch. they both looked up at you, their eyes full of guilt and embarrassment.

“we, uh...” gojo started, but geto cut him off again.

“we're sorry we didn't notice you looking for us,” he muttered, his voice still laced with shame. “we were just having a... disagreement, and we didn't want to bother you.” they both looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, their faces full of remorse.

seeing the guilt and embarrassment in their eyes, you softened, feeling a wave of affection for them despite their earlier antics. you reached out and gently helped them to their feet, your touch reassuring and comforting.

“come on, baby,” you said, your voice warm as you guided them towards the bedroom.

you could tell they were feeling remorseful, and despite your confusion over their odd behavior, you chose not to press the issue. instead, you opted to show them a different kind of comfort. “let’s just go to bed and cuddle,” you continued, smiling at them, “it’ll be okay.“

as you led them toward the bedroom, gojo’s initial nervousness began to melt away in the warmth of your gentle presence. noticing your obliviousness to the full extent of their earlier antics, he seized the opportunity to return to his usual self, his playful side resurfacing.

“you know,” gojo began, sliding closer to you with a wide, affectionate grin, “i’ve really missed you today.” he snuggled up to you, his usual playful demeanor coming back full force. “it’s like, you’re the best part of my day, and i’ve been counting the minutes until we could be like this again.”

geto, feeling the shift in gojo’s mood, couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the change. he followed suit, wrapping an arm around you as you all made your way to the bedroom. “yeah, what toru said,” he added with a softer smile “we definitely missed you.“

behind the closed door, the three of you entered the bedroom, where the soft, dim lighting created a cozy and comforting atmosphere. as you led them both toward the bed, gojo began to shed his shirt, the fabric slipping off his toned body with an air of nonchalance.

“you know,” he stated casually, “i think a cuddle session is exactly what we need right now.” he tossed his shirt aside, not even bothering to see where it landed as he flopped down onto the bed.

geto followed suit, tossing his shirt and pants aside as well before joining gojo on the bed. “definitely,” he agreed, resting his head on the pillow. “i could use a good cuddle right now. it’s been a long day, after all.”

both men looked up at you expectantly, their eyes full of a mix of affection and mischief. they patted the space between them, silently inviting you to join the snuggle puddle.

“come here,” gojo said, his voice low and warm.

as you complied with their silent invitation, snuggling in between them, gojo wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against his bare chest. geto did the same, snuggling up against your back and molding his body to yours. his hand lightly caressed your arm, the touch tender and intimate.

“this is nice,” gojo murmured, burying his face into your hair. “i love having you here like this.”

the warmth of their bodies against yours was like a small, comfortable sanctuary. gojo’s arms were wrapped securely around you, his bare chest pressed against your back. geto was curled up behind you, his body molding to yours like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

“it’s perfect,” geto agreed, his voice soft and muffled as he nuzzled into your hair. “having you here with us like this just makes everything feel right in the world.” gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “absolutely,” he said, his eyes closing in contentment.

for a few moments, none of you spoke, the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of everyone's hearts. then, gojo spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “can i tell you something, baby?”

you hum softly, still buried your face on his chest.

gojo's fingers continued to caress your skin as he gathered his thoughts. he was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice soft and serious.

“you know we care about you more than anything, right?” he asked, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking at him. “more than anything in the entire world.” geto, sensing the sincerity in gojo’s words, moved in close on your other side, his arm wrapping tighter around you. “he’s right,” he muttered. “you mean the world to us.”

you felt a swell of warmth at their heartfelt words. you looked up at gojo, his gaze soft and sincere, and then turned to meet geto’s equally genuine eyes. your heart ached with affection for them both.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. the emotions were almost overwhelming. you tightened your grip around gojo’s waist, pulling him closer, and then reached out to draw geto nearer to you as well.

gojo and geto both responded instantly to your wordless gesture, their bodies drawing closer as if magnetized to yours. gojo pulled you impossibly close to him, his arms embracing you like a vice, while geto pressed himself against your back, completing the cozy little sandwich.

gojo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk. “we just... we want to make sure you feel loved and safe, always.”

geto’s chin rested on your shoulder, and he added his own gentle kisses to your neck and face. his hands stroked your arms soothingly, his touch tender and affectionate.

“always,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice low and earnest, “you matter so much to us, baby.” gojo’s chest vibrated slightly as he hummed, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“we’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of their embrace and the tenderness of gojo’s kiss on your forehead. the warmth of their bodies pressed against you was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the feeling.

“i feel safe,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere, “i always feel safe with you two, more than with anyone else. each time you cuddle me, it’s like my brain just turns off. i get so comfortable that i could fall asleep in seconds.”

you nestled even closer into their arms, savoring the sense of security and peace they provided. their combined presence was like a soothing balm, washing away any lingering worries or stress. in their embrace, you felt completely at ease, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle comfort of their love.

gojo and geto both tightened their hold on you even more as you spoke, their bodies pressing against yours like an impenetrable wall of warmth and affection. the knowledge that you felt safe and secure with them, that their presence could turn off your worries and calm your mind, filled their chests with a deep sense of contentment.

“good,” geto murmured against your neck. “that's exactly how it should be.”

gojo nuzzled against your hair, his arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you. “you should always feel like this,” he said, “like nothing in the world can touch you.”

as the three of you continued to snuggle, geto’s hand began tracing gentle patterns up and down your arm, his touch soothing and rhythmic.

“we would do anything to make sure you feel this way,” he said softly. “you deserve nothing less than happiness and comfort.” gojo leaned down slightly to press another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.

“always, baby... always.”

you intertwine your free hand with geto’s, feeling his fingers gently intertwine with yours. with your other hand, you caressed gojo’s bare waist, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him.

as you felt their soothing touches and heard their comforting words, you closed your eyes, already starting to drift off. “i’m so grateful for you both,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible. “thank you for being in my life.”

gojo and geto both held you tighter as you intertwined your fingers with geto’s and rested your palm on gojo’s waist. the simple touch was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place, completing the circle of love and affection that surrounded you.

their hearts swelled with emotion at your words, and they both responded in unison, their voices low and soothing. “we’re the grateful ones, sweetheart,” gojo spoke up. “we should be thanking you for bringing us into your life,” geto continued, his voice warm and gentle.

you felt their embrace tighten around you, the simple touches of intertwined fingers and a warm palm on gojo’s waist completing the circle of love and affection. their words filled the space around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of emotional warmth.

as their voices melded into a soothing, harmonious backdrop, you drifted further into the comfort they provided. the gentle rise and fall of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats guided you toward sleep.

you didn't have the chance to respond, as the comfort of their presence and their heartfelt words lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

gojo and geto each felt a sense of deep contentment wash over them as they heard your breaths become slower and more even, signaling your descent into sleep. they held you close, their embraces protective and affectionate.

they watched over you as you slept, their gazes full of admiration and love. they continued to whisper soft, soothing words and gentle touches, ensuring you slept undisturbed and surrounded by their love.

“sweet dreams, baby,” gojo said quietly, his lips brushing your forehead. geto echoed his sentiment, his hand gently running through your hair. “we love you so much.”

the room was filled with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft rhythm of their breaths. gojo and geto were completely engrossed in their silent vigil, their senses fully attuned to you and your every movement.

slowly, the dawn began to break, casting a soft, morning glow into the room. it caught the edges of gojo’s silver hair and geto’s dark locks, creating a soft, halo-like effect around their heads.

946 notes · View notes

keerysfreckles · 5 months ago

Text

please please please — LN4 (smau)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader faceclaim; sabrina carpenter !

summary: y/n hard launches her boyfriend with her new music video

warnings: like two swear words

a/n: ignore the dates on the tweets not lining up with the end posts, i didnt feel like changing them this time

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by oliviarodrigo landonorris and 1,034,987 others

yourusername i beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker ! landonorris

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user1 LANDO WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user2 hard launch was hard launching omfg

user3 MOTHER!!!!!!!!

user4 LANDO YOU BETTER NOT MESS THIS UP SHE'S ASKING SO NICELY 🙏🙏

oliviarodrigo song of the summer!! 🤍🙌🏻

user5 IT. COUPLE.

user6 y/n wins again with best music video

landonorris wouldn't dream of it baby !

yourusername 🫠🫠

user7 THEY'RE ALREADY THE CUTEST PLS 😭😭😭

tatemcrae OKAYYY COUPLE GOALS 🤩🤩

user8 SCREAMED SO LOUD SEEING LANDO IN THE VIDEO OMG

landonorris just posted !

liked by yourusername charles_leclerc and 971,213 others

landonorris PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🖤💿 yourusername

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user1 HOLY SHIT WHAT DID I WAKE UP TO

user2 mv lando is so hot

user3 RETWEET

carlossainz55 tell your girlfriend i loved the song

landonorris 🫡🫡

user4 THE ENDING????? HELLO??? THE TAPE OVER HIS MOUTH AND HE KISSES HER THROUGH IT?????

user5 THIS VIDEO IS NOT FOR THE WEAK

oscarpiastri double date this weekend?

landonorris can't mate, y/n's got a festival to perform at

user6 SHE'S WORKING LATE CAUSE SHE'S A SINGER!!!!!!!

user7 wait is espresso about lando too.....

user8 THAT'D MAKE SM SENSE WAIT

user9 hottest couple on the grid ‼️‼️

twitter !

landonorris just added to their story !

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yourusername suddenly my fav color is orange !

landonorris you'd look great in it next friday at 7 😁

yourusername you did not just ask me on a date over insta dms....

user1 HE'S SUCH A SIMP PLS

user2 save me y/nlando SAVE ME

landonorris just posted !

liked by yourusername mclaren and 1,470,399 others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

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user1 LANDO HAS LANDED ‼️‼️

quadrant SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

oscarpiastri well done mate!!!

user2 IVE NEVER BEEN PROUDER 😭

mclaren 🧡🧡🧡

LN4 LFGGGG P1 BABYY

carlossainz55 👏🏽👏🏽

user3 did anyone else notice y/n crying as lando crossed the finish line

user4 YES AND LILY IMMEDIATELY PULLING HER INTO A HUG

georgerussell63 well deserved!

yourusername TAHTS MYBABY 😭😭😭

user5 they even match typos

user6 HIS LUCKY CHARM

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris oscarpiastri and 1,902,676 others

yourusername HE PROVED ME WRONG, HE BROUGHT ME TO TEARS, AND HE DIDN'T EMBARRASS ME!!!!!! 🧡🧡 MY RACE WINNER!!!!! landonorris

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user1 RACE WINNER LOOKS SO GOOD ON HIM

user2 l the caption im 😭😭😭

maxverstappen1 he would not shut up ahout you in the cooldown room

charles_leclerc he kept calling you his good luck charm

yourusername REALLY 🥹🥹

user3 lando has three moods; pookie, gremlin and slut

user4 THE FIRST PIC HE'S TOO ADORABLE

mclaren see you again next week? 👀

yourusername wouldn't miss it for the world 🧡

user5 y/n using the orange emojis now is so dear to me ugh

landonorris told you i wouldn't embarrass you babe 😎🏆

yourusername i believe you now 🤗

user6 the caption being the opposite of the lyrics omg she's a genius

user7 I DIDN'T NOTICE THAT OMG

2K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 7 months ago

Text

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

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user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

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bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

————————————————————————

liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

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user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

view all comments

bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3

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amomentsescape · 1 year ago

Text

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"

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jinwoosbabyboo · 7 days ago

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Watch Your Mouth

Dealing with someone talking shit about your man and you stand up for them because you're not about to let someone talk crazy about your man. A/N: I like to imagine this as an office girly scene and you have that one hater ass bitter coworker [Requested by: onliafaze]

Zayne

You could tell you were coming down with a cold and it was going to be a bad one. Zayne just so happened to have the day off and you were struggling to make it through your last shift before your days off. So being the loving boyfriend that he is, he brought you homemade soup and some cold medicine. He even kissed you before leaving not caring that you might get him sick as well. Just another reason to spend the day in bed with you. You sat at your desk with the biggest smile on your face. Suddenly a bitch with a voice like nails on a chalk board decided to insert herself into your bubble.

Hater: If you took better care of yourself your man wouldn’t have to waste his time coming all the way here to bring you soup MC: Weren't you sick last month and your man told you he was going to leave until you were healthy again and proceeded to ignore you for a week? Hater: ..... MC: Just because your man doesn’t care about you doesn’t mean you need to project on me Hater: I’m not projecting! MC: ………Whatever helps you sleep at night miss girl

Once you get home to tell Zayne what happened when he left, him being the sensible person that he is, suggests that maybe your coworker was just in a bad mood.

MC: Don't defend her Zayne: Sorry I meant her man hates her MC: Thank you

Rafayel

Rafayel truly had eyes for you and you only. He cared very little for others feelings you were the one and only exception. He also hated to be touched so when your coworker saw you constantly having a hand on him, when he would come by the office, she thought she’d try her luck. Rafayel immediately looked at her like she smeared the most vile thing known to man on his arm.

Hater: Your man is rude as hell MC: To you. Hater: No he’s just rude MC: To you. Hater: Why just me MC: You’re weird … who grabs on another woman's man right in front of her? You’re weird Hater: You’re rude as hell too you guys are made for each other MC: Cry about it

Rafayel stared at you in admiration while you told him what went down after he left.

Rafayel: Have I ever told you how hot you are when you get serious? MC: Yes all the time

Xavier

“Damn it I left my tea in my car” You had gotten all the way up to your desk when you realized what you were forgetting. On top of that it was cold so you were dreading having to walk in it again. Maybe you could make a cup in the office kitchen, but they only have sugar and you prefer honey; you prefer your tea. “I’ll go grab it for you just stay here and warm up” Xavier said as he appeared next to you with that soft expression he always has when he looks at you. “Thank you Xav you’re so sweet” You handed him your keys and watched as he quickly made his way out of the office before turning and smiling to yourself.

Hater: What is he a dog? Does he do everything for you? MC: ….. You know if your man hates you just say that Hater: M-my man doesn’t hate me w-why would you say that? MC: Look at you stuttering and shit did I hit a nerve? Hater: Whatever MC: Have the day you deserve babes!

Xavier approached you right as your coworker barged past him almost knocking the tea from his hand. He looked back with confusion etched across his face before turning back to you.

Xavier: What happened? MC: She was just admiring the relationship we have Xavier: What really happened? MC: She wanted smoke so I gave her a barbecue

Sylus

Thanks to Sylus wanting to spoil you at all time your office was the most decorated with all new everything and was even professionally designed to be organized and efficient. People loved to come by and admire your office set up. Except for one person who just seems to turn her nose up at you. She pouts for hours on end when Sylus makes his appearance to bring you lunch, flowers or even a ‘just because’ gift when he wants to see you. You ignored this bitter coworker day in and day out because why would you need the kind of negativity in your life? One day though she finally decided to voice her unwanted opinion to you.

Hater: You only have all of that because your man buys you everything MC: Yea … he does … tell your man to work harder Hater: That is so insensitive what if I'm single? MC: I can see why….. Hater: What's that supposed to mean!? MC: You're insufferable I wouldn't date you either

Sylus always found your attitude cute and it was even better when it wasn't directed at him.

Sylus: You said she was insufferable? MC: Somebody had to do it Sylus: and you were the perfect one for the job huh? MC: I was defending you praise me Sylus: I've never been defended before thank you Princess

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lnds #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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with-my-calamitous-love · 23 days ago

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LOVE LEFT ME LIKE THIS AND I DONT WANT TO EXIST

katsuki bakugou x reader

katsuki, japan’s number 1 hero, discovers his fiancé’s dark past and questions everything.

themes of abuse and violence. please read with discretion 🤍

part 1/2

inspired by florida!!!

all you had to do was beat the charges.

first, the body. he’d laid there, mouth foaming and blood pouring from his neck. you had checked his pulse. the deed had been done. standing over him, your eyes wandered to any means of disposal. ultimately, you decided to let them discover it.

second, the evidence. you made sure to use gloves and specifically used his favourite rocks glass, the one he’d drink out of before heading to see you. you’d leave it on the coffee table next to the couch where he currently laid. maybe they’d believe this was his doing, if luck was on your side. you’d write a suicide note on his behalf- you hadn’t thrown our those gloves yet, anyway.

third, the getaway. because you weren’t going to let them drag you away with his body in a bag. the weight of what you had done would do nothing but shackle you down. yes, you’re haunted, but right now you had to act just fine. your heart was tied up with laces and crimes.

and your cheating, abusive, husband seemingly died out of nowhere, supposedly committing suicide on his own accord while his young marital partner disappeared? well, no one asks any questions where you’re headed now.

you did your best to lay it to rest. meanwhile, japan mourned the loss of a seemingly good and innocent pro hero, to whom you now widowed.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

3 years later.

most of your life had been running and hiding. the thought of settling down anywhere, in a city where you were nothing but a mere guest in. you didn’t trust trust, you didn’t trust happiness. all until meeting katsuki one day.

the thought of ever loving a despicable, power-hungry pro hero set off sirens in your head. but there was some allure about katsuki that made you forget the shadows of your past.

little do you know, he fell for you first and he fell harder. it was impossible not to be enamoured with him- a gorgeous, 6 foot tall blonde with a cocky attitude and fierce determination. who you, at first, wrote off to be a shallow douchebag, but who turned out to be the sweetest, most chivalrous gentleman you had ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

perhaps your favourite thing about him were his dreams. the things that drove him to be better. his determination to be a good hero, to be the symbol of peace like the ones who came before him. theres a certain light in his crimson eyes that you can’t miss. he shines bright in this light, dazzling your heart and daring you to love him.

so, after just 2 years of dating, you and katsuki are now engaged and living together. the public knows of you, with both adoring and jealous fans by your side.

it gave you this rush. loving him was passionate as sin. every time you’re with him is one hell of a time, even if its something simple as watching a shitty movie together or folding laundry after work. only occasionally, you’d look over your shoulder, making sure no one was following you.

right now, he’s in the kitchen with you. you’re seated on the counter while he cooks, letting you taste-test everything. the glint of your engagement ring looks stunning in this light. katsuki’s happy to be the first person you’ve been married to. at least, he’s happy believing that.

though, somethings different about him this time. he’s quieter, his mind ruminating on something.

he looks at you, the love of his life, seated on the counter wearing his clothes, and wonders how you could be capable of lying to him.

he sighs, putting down whatever he’s doing. he wants to know the truth.

“babe.” he starts, not fully facing you. your ears perk up at the sound of his voice. “yeah?”

he walks over to you, looking you in the eye with his beautiful red eyes. you could sink in them.

“i’m the first man you’ve ever committed to.. right?”

he asks, though it’s something you’ve told him time and time again. previously, he’s wanted to know for some insecure reasons. you’re his one and only, and in the past, he’s just wanted to know you’re on the same page. it’s something you’ve told him everyday.

“yeah.” you smile, hiding behind that facade. “why do you ask?”

he takes a step closer, looking at you. his eyes are pleading, because he wants you to tell him otherwise. please, tell him that what he’s heard isn’t true.

“i wanted to see if you’d lie to me.”

your heart drops.

“what… what are you talking about?” you almost laugh, nervously. that anxiety creeps up your throat. its pathetic the way you thought you could even keep this up.

he sighs, running a hand through his ashy blonde hair in stress. it was wishful thinking, believing that he, a pro hero charged with investigating and bringing justice, would never find out about your crime. for a moment there, it felt good. like you were really gonna get away with it.

he walks past you, rummaging around in his bag before putting the files on the counter next to you. evidence. the man you had taken out, and links that suggested you had done it. your hands shake, seeing how its all stacked against you. looking him in the eye was out of the question.

truthfully, he isn’t sure who he’s looking at. he knows he loves you, but love has never before made him question everything like you’re doing to him. he sighs before continuing.

“kirishima showed me everything.” he says. “he and his team were investigating this case in a city nearby here. i didn’t think much of it until he told me you married the guy, and left right after he was pronounced dead.”

he looks at you, into the face of the person he loves more than anything. he’s begging you to say no. he’s begging you to be innocent.

“did you do it?”

you swallow hard, eyes darkening as you think of your options. was it worth it to lie anymore.

please say no. he thinks. please tell me it isn’t true.

“…i did what i had do.” you whisper, finally confessing.

and his worst fears are confirmed.

his heart sinks, furious as he looks at you. he’s trying to discern if this is the person he knows, if this is the person he loves. his voice is shaky, hands trembling with unbridled rage he tries to keep under control.

“why.” he says, not a question but a command, like venom. you almost flinch at his tone, though you can’t say you blame him. he person he’s set on marrying hid something so huge from him for years.

“its not what you think.” you insist, truthfully not knowing where to start. you cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak.

his eyes narrow looking at you. “then what is it? you committed a heinous fucking crime and i’m suppose to think its for a good reason?”

god, if katsuki knew half of how hard you life had been. he had a hunch you were going to lie to him again, and it only made him angrier. “tell me the truth. i wanna know-“

“i had a husband before you.” you cut him off. he decidedly holds his tongue, surmising that he’s finally getting the truth from you. so, he waits. impatiently patient.

“i was young, and i had just run away from home.” you explain, the memories of your past crawling back up your throat. “my father was a creepy, rape-y bastard. couldn’t last another second in that house.” you say.

his heart aches at that. he had some idea that your childhood was less than ideal, but the thought your own father did that to you was more than he could bare. though he’s angry, he knows you didn’t deserve it. “i’m so sorry.”

you simply nod, praying for mercy as you continue. “so… i ran away. there weren’t a lot of people who could help me, or who could bring me in. i stayed on the streets most nights.” you sigh, wishing you could run into katsuki’s embrace. on other day, he’d gladly shield you away from all this hurt.

“and then… i met this guy. a hero, believe it or not.” you chuckle bitterly, much to your fiance’s chagrin. the thought that the bastard who did this to being someone like him made him sick.

“he got me a job, and helped me get back on my feet. i fell in love, as stupid and naive as that sounds.” you say. “…and when he asked to marry me, he said it’d only be on paper. that it’d just be so i could have shelter, food and water. i felt like he saved me.”

katsuki nods, still trying to process all of this. “but he didn’t save you… did he?”

you shake your head.

“turns out i married my father.” you say, darkly. he bites his lip, suspicious confirmed. those abused as children are more likely to move on with someone else abusive, after all. its sad cycle that he wishes he could remove you from. though it seems you had your own way of doing that.

“i was gonna die in that house.” you whisper, voice cracking at the seems. “so…”

you can’t even finish your sentence.

he isn’t an idiot. he can connect the dots. but even though the climactic end of your sentence is obvious, he still can’t quite wrap his head around it. he still loves you, though he’s mad as hell you kept this from him.

“i laced his whiskey and watched as it killed him. after, i… i packed my things and left town. took his money, too.”

his silence is killing you. you wish he’d say something, that its okay- though its not. that he still loves you- though he shouldn’t.

you speak again, maybe trying to fix this mess. “i know its wrong. i know its fucked up. i shouldn’t have.”

he lets out another breath, eyes noticing the way your hands shake. those hands, the ones he’d hold in his own, had blood on them.

“and why didn’t you think to tell anyone? no heroes, no police?” he has the nerve to ask, though its a valid question.

you snap, tension breaking as you push yourself ofd the counter and away to face him. “because i don’t TRUST you fuckers!” you cry, yelling while tears spill from your eyes.

silence.

bakugou stared right back into your eyes as you said that, and his expression immediately hardened again. he was angry all over again. for one, he already knew you didn't exactly trust heroes, albeit except for him. but this just hurt him. he knew that he himself was a hero and would protect you with his life.

so why couldn't you see that?

“i’m going to give you one more chance to re-think what you just said.”

but you stand your ground. “no.” you say, shaking your head. “i was abused for years and no one heard my case. i was dismissed and shunned for years until finally, i ran away. and when i did, i was stupid enough to trust again. to trust one of you power-hungry assholes! and how did that end!? with me being scared to come home everyday! with my husband using me like a god damn punching bag!”

his expression immediately drops at your words. hearing what you went through as a kid hit him like a truck. but, on the other hand, he was still so angry. he wanted to tell you that not all heroes are like that, that he wasn't like that.. but the anger was overpowering both his thoughts and his feelings as he listened. he wants to tell you that it’ll never happen again, but his emotions slip it before he can say that.

“and because of what happened with him, you think we're all like that?!” he roars back.

“its different for you and me.” you say, tears refusing to subside. “every-time i’ve let my guard down i’ve been beaten. nothing good comes from trusting.”

so, he wonders if you ever really trusted him. why agree to marry him if you supposedly didn’t believe in trust, or in love? he feels his whole world begin to crumble around him.

he can see now, putting those signs together. your hesitancy when you first met. your trust issues, your reluctance to speak on your past. it all made sense now, and he hated it.

“thats why you were so hesitant to let me in, huh?” he asks, looking at the ground. he’s struggling to keep calm, between his anger towards the monsters of your past and a little towards you.

“you thought i’d be like him?” he asks, and that question physically hurts your heart.

“no! i love you!” your voice cracks like its a lie. both of you notice that.

suddenly, i love you was like the worst thing he’s ever heard.

“and its worse because i’m a hero too, huh?” he asks. but you can’t answer that. instead, you opt to look down, letting your tears soak into your clothes.

“thats not what i thought.” you say, though you aren’t exactly sure who you’re convincing. “i promise, i know you’re different.”

and he is different. katsuki bakugou was nothing like the demons you had fought in your past. he was bright, and warm, and his love felt like home. more specifically, a home that was about to be torn down.

“then why didn’t you tell me, huh? why keep this from me for years?” he asks, still wanting answers.

to this, you almost scoff. it should be obvious. “how do i tell my boyfriend, who is the #1 hero in the country, the pillar of justice and peace, that i murdered someone? that my own hands took someone else life!?”

god, he’s livid. he can’t even look at you, though he admits he kind of understands why you hid it. he believed you were an angel.

“..and you have the nerve to think i’d stop loving you over it!?”

“YES!”

that answer made his anger hit a new record. He grabbed your arms, pushing you against the wall. he held you against it, his grip firm on your wrists, his eyes filled with anger as he looked over your face.

“do you really think I'm like that? do you really think after everything we've been through I'd just stop loving you that easily?”

he was yelling at this point, but he could also hear his voice break slightly as he spoke. he’s crying too.

“you’re hurting me.” you firmly speak.

the fear on your face makes him realize what he’s just done.

exactly 2 seconds after his question, he lets go, backing away. he stutters to himself for a question, seeing what he’s done like a knife through his chest. maybe he wasn’t any better. maybe you had a right to not trust him.

“i’m… fuck, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he says, trying to wipe away your tears. he stops as you flinch away from his touch, only making him hate himself even more.

he loves you, and all he’s wanted to do was protect you. he’s angry, yes, but the last thing he’s ever wanted to do was hurt you. he’ll never forgive himself for that.

silently, you grab your jacket and keys and leave the apartment.

part 2 soon! 🫧

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