#just stop pretending like you care and leave me alone

[naehja]

Beefleaf prompt Au where the real Ming Yi manages to escape from Black Water Manor and returns to Heaven. He's terribly weak but he goes directly to the most importants officials to tell that the one they thought to be the Earth Master since years is actually Black Water.

He Xuan is discovered and must escape from Heaven after have been revealed.

He escaped a trap set by the most experimented gods, who even put Qingxuan in danger in this trap (Shi Wudu was pissed when he realized that his brother was in danger in the trap and that it's Black Water who saved him).

Shi Wudu realizes who is Black Water after a short confrontation between them. He quickly erases all the proofs who could reveals he exchanged the fate of He Xuan with the fate of Qingxuan. Nobody know what he did and Black Water can't proove it. And who would believe a supreme ghost who has pretended to be a god for years?

The Heaven investigate and destroy Black Water manor. He Xuan manages to go away with the funeral urns of his family.

Qingxuan is confused. He didn't live the trauma of Black Wter Arc, the betrayal, the death of his brother by the hands of the one he thought to be his best friend…his heart has not be crushed. But he doesn't understand. He feel a little betrayed because he can't stop wonder if he didn't have been used.

If Black Water is so bad, why did he spend all this time with him? He wasn't forced to be his friend, to share so much things with him so why did he do it? Why did he save him from the trap set by those gods?

Why his brother forbid him to search him for answer.

"He's dangerous Qingxuan"

"He'll kill you if you go to meet him"

"Yes he didn't hurt you before but he has no reason to wear a mask now."

Shi Qingxuan didn't understand "But Ge, he saved me"

Shi Wudu tries to convince him like "It's not because he has some morals that he really cares. Don't forget he pretended to be a god for years, pretened to be someone else. The Real Earth Master could have died in this manor, alone and forgotten by everyone since nobody would have knew his fate. He probably used you to make his cover better."

Qingxuan also realize that the real Ming Yi is very different of Black Water when he was pretending to be him. Somewhere it's relieving him because he think "he was himself with me, right?

Shi Wudu doesn't let him get out of Heaven alone anymore. Which annoy him a lot. like A LOT. But he manages to do it. And arrives on a beach. He doesn't know how contact Black Water. A little part of him is afraid.

But he decides to use their private spiritual array. The one between both of them. That only them could use to speak with each other. They had created him years ago. Ming Yi (or rather Black Water) was annoyed but still used it.

"Ming…Black Water? I want to speak with you, i want to see you. Please? I…we spend so much time together. not everything was a lie, right?"

At his big surprise…Black Water answers.

"Qingxuan?'

He doesn't have the time to say anything that he feel a presence behind him and two arms catching him.

"you brother didn't tell you to not leave Heaven alone?" say a cold voice at his ear. "Didn't he tell you i'm dangerous?" He's tall, taller that when he was Ming Yi. He was sharp teeths. His hands, his skin, are so cold. But his breath burn Qingxuan's skin. He shivers to feel this body against him.

"Yes he forbid me to leave Heaven alone. but i wanted to speak with you"

"ho didn't he tell you WHY i was dangerous for YOU?"

"What do you mean?"

Black Water starts to laugh, bitterly "of course he didn't tell you. He's probably not very proud, and he knows how much you'll be pissed if you knew"

"What….do you mean. What Ge did to you? Why i have something to do with that?"

Black Water bites her earlobe, before purring "why don't you come to my new home so i can explain that to you" He smiles "well it sound just like a proposition, but it's not. You don't have the choice."

"Black Water, what….what do you want?" His cheeks are burning, his heart was beating faster.

"Your brother took my most importants persons of my life. I'll take his most important person from him." He catches Qingxuan's wrist, stopping him to use his fan "I planned to kill him but taking you away of him is a lot better, right?" A laugh "And for answers to your question. Not everything was a lie Qingxuan. That's why i want to keep you."

All the events of TGCF form Xie Lian's third ascension to the final fight happens while Qingxuan is He Xuan's prisonier guest. He Xuan let him do his god's job but under his surveillance, so no god would know where he is. Xie Lian meets him to Ghost City and all the gods lost it when they know. Especially Shi Wudu.

They probably got married shortly near of the end or after.

At a point Shi Wudu has to face the consequence of what he did to He Xuan, except that He Xuan will not kill him.

(prompt free for adoption)

[jedi-bird]

So because I'm on antidepressants now I'm apparently not allowed to have any bad days. Like, not sure how to explain that that's not how it works and that ignoring me and refusing to speak to me isn't going to help.

[goldstar-dogboy]

I feel like I need to be petted right now but I'm afraid if anyone touches me I'll bite

I don't know if I deserve to be pet, but I know that I deserve to be cold, I know I deserve to stay in the dog house outside for the winter, I am only suppose to watch the warm glow coming from the windows, I'm only suppose to smell the food on the table, I can only play nice when guests are over

[anaalnathrakhs]

i <3 feeling like i'm literally always making the wrong choice

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

my sister called me and kept asking excitedly that what's happening in my life and

[kavehater]

Well now I just feel used ? 🧍‍♀️

[collinnmckinley]

Oh man the thing that ive seen about the recent cod discourse at 9 in the fucking morning when i should be sleeping!

Yall need help with your saviour complex i swear to fucking god.

[nezuscribe]

you’re glad to have a friend like arranged!gojo, it feels good to have somebody to talk to and listen to. you feel nice being able to laugh with somebody and not apologize for the awful jokes or strange things you say. but sometimes you have to stop yourself from getting attached, reminding yourself that he won’t care for you like that.

and though that’s the farthest from the truth, it’s what you’ve convinced yourself. so when your birthday comes around, you decide to celebrate the way you always have, alone.

he’s your friend, not a husband, so you don’t see any need in dragging him into this ordeal.

you bake a little cake for yourself a couple day in advance, just like you used to at your old home. you stash it away for when night rolls around and it’s just yourself, you can enjoy it the way you have for years.

when you were little you would gawk and stare at the lavish parties your father and his wife threw for your sisters, the balls and the presents growing bigger and bigger the more they grew up. you’d mimic their behaviors on your own, dressing up in the best dress you had (a hand me downs from your older sister that never fit quite right) and pretended you too were surrounded by a room of people as they watched you eat cake.

and sure, when you were younger you’d feel embarrassed eating by yourself surrounded by drawings of people you’d prop up on chairs, but it’s become tradition now (not the drawings, you realize now how depressing that must’ve looked).

so the night of your birthday you take the cake you had hidden in the back of the ice den out, bringing it to the corner of the kitchens where the cooks kept the little table for themselves and began cutting into it, cursing yourself for freezing it too long.

you serve yourself a piece, hunching over your plate as you dug in with your fork, eating in silence.

you write a little note for the cooks to enjoy the rest of it as you place it back in the den once you were done, going back to your room for the night.

the following day when you were walking around the library looking for something new you spot gojo talking to one of his advisors, his eyes focused and his tilted slightly as he gave him all of his attention.

you pause, holding back until you were sure they were done with their conversation to reveal yourself from behind one of the looming bookshelves, watching as the advisor bowed his head to you before he left.

the crease between his eyebrows relaxes, his eyes softening when you waved at him, your smile gleaming.

“i didn’t see you for breakfast,” he tells you as he walks over to where you were standing, pushing some of his hair back as you grin apologetically.

“i slept in,” you admit sheepishly, tired from last night as you play with your fingers, “i also might’ve been a little snippy with alina when she tried to wake me up.”

gojo snorts, absentmindedly pulling some books out and putting them back in as he rests his side on the wall of binded pages.

“baking?” he asks simply, knowing you well enough to know that the only reason you’d miss breakfast would be because you spent the majority of the night in the kitchens.

“how’d you know?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest as he tsks, his fingers picking some stray leaves from your head from earlier when you were walking through the gardens.

“i help whisk the butter and sugar when you don’t feel like it. i don’t know why you keep me out of the kitchens,” he murmurs petulantly and you chuckle a little bit, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“it’s for your own sake,” you tell him, a glimmer in your eyes that he’d chase around the world the see, “and besides, i wasn’t baking. i was enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.”

gojo squints a little bit, confused. usually you eat what you make the night of, sometimes bringing a plate by his room if it’s not too late.

“when else did you bake this week without me?” he asks, trying to mask his hurt with a playful grin, trying to recall the times he heard back from one of his guards that you were down in the kitchens.

“only a few days ago, when i trying to assemble the cake.” you say with a shrug. his mouth opens in shock, a pout on his lips as he averts your gaze.

“you had cake? without me?” he almost whines it out and you shove his boot with the point of your shoe, trying to calm him down.

who would’ve thought the most fearsome warrior of the north, hell, the entire kingdom, would have such a sweet-tooth?

“it was small,” you try to reason, “and you wouldn’t have liked the flavors. it’s a recipe from the west.”

gojo groans, stepping closer to you as he gently flick your nose, watching the way you’d scrunch it up in annoyance.

“but you know i love cake,” he murmurs, “and you said you’d only bake it for birthdays…you lied to me,” his pink lips pull into a pout, one that you want to kiss off his gorgeous face, and control yourself from letting the heat get too much in your cheeks.

“well,” you quirk a brow, “if it helps, it was for a birthday.”

gojo looks up from the ground, brows furrowed once again in confusion.

“mine?” he says a little hopefully, as if it was anywhere near his birthday.

you snort, shaking your head as your finger pokes itself in your chest.

“mine…you idiot,” you mutter under your breath, wondering how somebody how his caliber could be so daft.

but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, in fact, his brows seem to meet in the middle, the pout gone form his lips as he frowns.

“what do you mean yours? your birthday isn’t for…? isn’t it in…?” he tries to think, think back to when your birthday was, only to realize he didn’t know, to realize he’d never asked you about it, always assuming it’d be something told to him.

“it’s nothing big,” you try to say quickly to cover up the awkwardness, “i usually just make myself a cake and get it over with.” you say with a chuckle but he’s not finding anything about this humorous.

great, you think bitterly to yourself, said something else and fucked it up. you wince, wishing you’d just stayed quite.

“your birthday was yesterday?” gojo asks, his voice hushed and heavy. he looks like he cares, he looks sad. you find it unnerving.

“i,” you laugh uncomfortably, fidgeting with your ring as you swallow thickly, “i think so...? i eyeball the day every year.”

truth be told you done really know what day you were born. your father never remembered the exact date seeing how the nature of his relationship with your mother was so secretive, and nobody ever found the true date out. so usually you find a date each year that you think matches with what time season you were born with and go with that.

gojo feels like his heart has slowed, watching the way you shrink into yourself the way he notices you’d i when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“eyeball?” he bites out and you wince at his tone, and he wishes he could take it back and start over again without the bite of a general in his words.

“look gojo it’s nothing, really,” you insist, waving him off as you try to escape, shifting around so you were closer to the doorway, “it’s just a day, it’s nothing important,” you tell him reassuringly.

but he doesn’t believe you, running a hand down his face as he pinches at the bridge of your nose.

“why do you write these things off as if they’re not important?” his voice is deep, echoing around the walls of the vast library as your hold your breath, “why don’t you-”

“because it’s not important,” you say again, your voice a little bit harsher, “it’s just a day.”

his eyes drown in blue, dark and wavering like the shoreline.

“then why bake a cake?” he snaps, not in anger but in genuine questioning, and your face falls a little.

maybe because years ago you thought it was something important. maybe because you want that little girl to feel like she matters.

he gapes, knowing he said something wrong, but can’t speak.

“i…” you open your mouth then close it again, looking away from him as you shrug, “i have to go, i - um, shoko asked for me.” you lie lamely, not caring as you bow your head down slightly to him before you briskly leave.

and maybe if you turned back you could see the way his face fell too.

but with all the maybes you’ve told yourself no to, you’ve grown accustomed to the belief that every maybe wouldn’t have a chance of becoming something.

because maybe if you had actually told him the truth when you wanted to a couple days ago, that you’d like to celebrate with him, he wouldn’t shut you down the way you’d imagined he would and maybe he would’ve said yes.

but for now you convince yourself that this man is a friend who pretends like he cares. because never once have you heard of a man caring so deeply for somebody that he’d shed a tear over the fact that you’d celebrate your birthday alone. but then again, you’ve never met a man like gojo before.

[nanaslutt]

Not so sneaky sex (pt.2)

ʚ synopsis: after Geto catches you and Gojo fucking, you both let him join

ʚ cont: fem reader, eiffel tower position, throat fucking, dacryphilia, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms, rough sex

ʚ note: this can be read as a stand alone, but pt. 1 is here

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

"S-satoru fuck, Satoru let her breathe-" Suguru groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he wrapped his hand around Satoru's wrist, weakly pulling at it to get him to back off a bit for your sake. "She can take it, can't you pretty girl?" All you could do was moan around Suguru's cock in response as Gojo ruthlessly fucked you into his best friend's pelvis, your throat forced to open up for Geto's cock as he pressed your head down on him.

Geto choked at the feeling of you moaning around him, the sound going straight to his balls. Tears were long streaming down your face from Gojo's mean thrusts. Your nails dug into the bed and Geto's waist as you gripped him for dear life, his much larger hand cupped over your own and weakly tangled with yours as he tried his best to comfort you through taking his dick down your throat.

"Tell me how good her throat feels, haven't fucked it in a while." You whined when Gojo gripped your waist with both hands and fucked into you harder, his balls slapping against your now overstimulated clit. You could feel another orgasm creeping up on you already, and you weren't sure how many more you could take before you finally collapsed.

"Fuck-" Geto groaned, his large hand leaving the back of Gojo's on his head to caress your cheek as he looked down at you lovingly, adoring how good your lips looked wrapped around his cock. You did your best to look up at him, but the tears of overstimulation were making your vision blurry, causing you to blink rapidly. Geto groaned at the view of you staring at him with furrowed eyebrows nonetheless.

"Just how long have you two been fucking?" Geto asked, his lips pressing together just as you felt his cock twitch in your throat, making you cough around him. Gojo laughed at his question as he stopped his hips flush against yours, rolling them in circles as he rubbed your sweet spot deep inside you, making you see stars. "Hmm… I don't know." He said, pretending to think by rubbing at his chin and looking at the ceiling as he continued rolling his hips against your ass in excruciating bliss.

You reached up and grabbed Gojo's hand that was pressing your mouth down on Geto's cock, silently asking him to let you go. "Oh? Wanna say something, baby?" He asked, relenting and letting you take a breath, all the while keeping his pace against you. You had nothing to say, you just let your orgasm wash over you as the top half of your body collapsed against the sheets, your nails digging into Geto's throat as you held onto him like an anchor as your orgasm assaulted your body.

Gojo cursed, a strangled laugh leaving his lips when he felt your cunt strangling his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. He started up a pace again, fucking your orgasm from your body and prolonging your pleasure in the process. "Shit…" Geto cursed, covering his mouth with his hand as he watched you unravel on his beat friend's cock, his other hand leaving your own to wrap around his throbbing cock, stroking it as he watched you.

"She was gonna choke if she came while my cock was down her throat," Geto groaned, "You need to be more careful, Satoru." he chastized, making his best friend swat his hand at him in retaliation. "Nahh, she doesn't like when I'm careful, that's why she fucks me." You almost blacked out when Gojo wrapped his hand under your body and found your clit, rubbing it in circles and effectively turning your brain to mush as your head repeatedly knocked into Geto's thigh from his rough thrusts.

"Is that true, pretty girl?" Geto asked, cupping your face while leaning down a bit, never slowing down his thrusts as he fucked his own hand. You were slow to respond, nodding limply for a while while whines and curses left your lips before you found your words. "He's so- fucking mean," you cried, making Geto pout for you, but you didn't fail to notice the way the corner of his lip curled up a bit at that.

"But you like when I'm mean, don't try to get sympathy." Gojo pouted, rubbing your clit faster while adding more pressure. "Suck him off again pretty, I wanna watch him when he cums down your throat." You looked up at Geto and noticed he was sharing what looked like a heated look at Satoru, one that made you clench harder around his cock.

"I'll be gentle," Suguru whispered, looking back down at you as he helped you regain your balance and sit the front half of your body up. Your mouth was watering as you focused on the way Suguru was jerking off just in front of your lips, a heavy bead of precum pearling in his pretty slit before dripping onto the sheets below you. You leaned forward and took him into your throat easily since you had him in your throat before.

The groan that left Geto's lips sent electricity shocking down your body, threatening to push you over the edge again. You wanted to whine when Gojo pulled out abruptly, heavy pants leaving his lips. You couldn't hear any slick sounds from behind you that were telling you he was jerking off, so you were confused as to why he pulled out like that. You just focused on breathing through Geto's deep thrusts into your throat.

"What's wrong Satoru? Did you almost finish again?" Geto teased, running his nails across your scalp. The action was calming, making your lids flutter before they fell as he relaxed your body. You so badly wanted to bed for Gojo to put his cock back in, but you were enjoying this little break. "Yeah, almost came when you put it back in her throat." He said, making you furrow your eyebrows together. You almost did too when you heard Geto groan. Is that why he almost came?

Geto was stupidly hot and had the voice of a god, you weren't shocked his deep voice almost made him finish too. Your back arched and you held your breath when Gojo started slipping his cock back inside you, the stretch of him feeling so satisfying, like he was meant to be inside you. "Wait for me." Geto said, his cock throbbing inside your mouth, "I'm not gonna last like this anyways."

"You never told me how it feels. C'mon, don't be greedy." Satoru pushed, thrusting into you at a steady pace again, not as hard and fast as before, but it still felt good especially when he started slowly rubbing your clit in circles again, almost soothingly. "It's so tight, and warm." Geto started, looking down at you as you looked up at him, meeting his beautiful slightly purple eyes. "Yeah?" Gojo asked, his thrusts growing almost sloppy and a little faster.

"Yeah, she's sucking me in when I pull back too, it's like she doesn't want me to leave." Gojo wasn't the only one getting off on his words in that slightly raspier voice than normal, from sleepiness and arousal. You squeezed around his cock, your lashes fluttering every time you took him to the back of your throat. "Fuck, keep talking." You would have cracked a smile if you could, Gojo was fucking loving this.

"Every time she moans I can feel it in my fucking stomach, Satoru." He groaned, petting your cheek as he shook his head at you while looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You whined around him, making him shiver, his long eyelashes fluttering before he tipped his head back. "I'm gonna cum." He groaned, his nails against your scalp raking a bit harder as he got closer and closer to his high.

"Me too." Gojo groaned, his hand digging into your hip as he brought you back on his cock, your ass slapping against his pelvis lewdly with each thrust. "Cum with me baby, cum all over my cock, I need to feel it you know I do." Gojo cooed at you, his hand that was grabbing your hip moving to caress down your spine, making goosebumps break over your skin. You whined harder around Geto's cock when he started rubbing your little clit faster, trying to force your orgasm out of your body, not that it needed much coaxing.

Geto's breathing picked up, as did his sloppy thrusts right before he pulled out. He grabbed your chin with his large hand, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. Your moans instantly fell freely from your lips, only making both the men fall faster into their highs. "Open your mouth, baby, I wanna cum on your tongue." You groaned at his words before you let your jaw open, your tongue peeking out between your lips as you looked up at him expectantly, gripping his hip harshly as he stroked himself off at a furious pace.

"Oh shit," Gojo whined, you could feel how bad he was shaking behind you, obviously trying to hold out until you and Geto came so he could watch the show before he was fucked out beyond his mind and unable to comprehend anything as he came. He could tell it was about to be a hard one. Just as you felt yourself tip over the edge, Geto's body went rigid, his breath reaching a halt before he broke.

You flinched when the first spurt of his cum landed on your cheek. He groaned long and loud as he released all over your face and tongue, his head falling back in bliss as he shakily jerked himself through his orgasm, making an absolute mess of you. You cried out when you felt Gojo cum inside you right when you came. The moan that fell from his lips made your stomach do summersaults as your orgasm wracked through your body.

"Fuck- fuck- f-fuck." Gojo repeated the curse over and over as he thrust against your ass each time he came. His body was shaking violently, his abs tensing and unsensing against your lower back as he curled over you, his body weak and spent as his half-hard cock kept twitching while he was buried deep inside you. Suguru sat down on the shitty motel bed, one leg straight, the other curled as you laid your head on his thigh with Gojo's body crushing yours as he caught his breath.

"Holy shit." Geto groaned, wiping his dirty hand on the bed before he ran it through his hair, getting the strays out of his flushed face. "You're telling me," Gojo replied, his voice weak and muffled from his cheek being squished against your back. You were going to let him keep crushing your body until you swear you felt him drool on you. "Close your mouth Satoru, yuck," you complained, weakly lifting your arm to swat him away. He only tangled your fingers together and pressed your conjoined hands against the sheets.

"Shhh…" He replied, sounding like he was seconds away from falling asleep. You were relieved when Geto started running his hand over your scalp, his fingers tickling the back of your neck when he caressed there. "You have to pull out Satoru unless you want her to kick your ass when you give her an STI." He joked, reaching down your back to flick his sweaty forehead.

Gojo groaned, lifting his head slightly to pout at his friend. "I'm giving her aftercare, 5 more minutes." He replied, his heavy head slapping against your back once more. "I don't know how laying on me with your entire weight is aftercare…" You added, rolling your eyes at his antics. You closed your sleepy eyes when you felt Geto place a soft kiss against your forehead as he started to get up from the bed. "I'll run a bath, when I'm done if he's not off of you, I'll take care of him." You smiled at him sweetly, reaching for his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand in thanks before he walked off to the bathroom to run you a much-needed bath.

[fastandcarlos]

Fred’s Baby Girl : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after being photographed looking more than comfortable, the fans soon learn that fred isn’t the only vasseur that charles is fond of…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by leclercgirl01, ferarriforthewin and 3,593 others

f1gossip: during the summer break, several photos have emerged of charles leclerc enjoying his holiday with the daughter of ferrari team principal fred vasseur. we’re uncertain if the pair were holidaying alone or with a group of friends, but either way they’re sure looking cosy 🏎️

731 comments

username1: watch them now try and convince us that they’re not dating 😂

username2: can’t wait to see fred’s reaction to this news…

username3: I did think yn was attending more races recently 🤔

username4: look at those smiles 🤩

username5: this was not on my bingo card for 2024

username6: I’m surprised how good they look together ngl

username7: can’t wait for charles to see fred after these pictures 😂

username8: I feel like fred is too soft for charles to be mad about this 🤨

username9: father fred and son charles era pending…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 583,018 others

ynvasseur: another lovely weekend supporting the best team in f1 and cheering on charles and carlos ❤️

31,472 comments

username10: not yn pretending that she was there for both of the boys 😂

username11: notice how it’s charles’ garage that she posts tho

landonorris: omg just give the fans what they want yn 😫

username12: yn just pretending like nothing is even happening rn

pierregasly: I refuse to believe that pr didn’t have to approve this post first with how noncommittal it is 😂

ynvasseur: @/pierregasly I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️

username13: I don’t blame you girl, who could resist charles leclerc 🔥

charles_leclerc: it was lovely to see you in the garage this weekend 🥺

username14: wonder how close of an eye fred is keeping on her this weekend 😉

scuderiaferrari: it’s always a pleasure to have you with us yn ❤️

username15: stop leaving us in suspense, we promise we’ll be happy for you!!

carlossainz55: it’s always a joy to have you there and annoy you yn 😝

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 you do such a good job of it too 🙃

username16: charles keeping his reply pg but he’s not convincing any of us 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charlesbbygirl, tifosi99 and 4,391 others

f1gossip: seemingly confirming their relationship, photos have been shared of charles and yn around the ferrari garage looking cosy together, not appearing to care who was around to see them, especially yn’s father fred!

519 comments

username17: how can these two people think they can convince us they’re single 😂

username18: poor carlos is officially the ferrari third wheel!

username19: that second photo makes me think he’s not seen fred yet 😂

username20: is anyone really sitting here thinking these two aren’t dating??

username21: I was at the paddock this weekend and every time I saw charles yn was right there with him too…

username22: can’t wait for boyfriend!charles to reappear once again!!

username23: they’re more than just cosy together ngl

username24: just me thinking this is sad how their privacy is getting completely invaded rn 🤯

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: did you really think the two of them wouldn’t still be the best of friends? oh, and congrats on the win too charles 😂❤️

58,381 comments

username25: forever my favourite principal and driver relationship 🥰

charles_leclerc: so happy you got to be there to see your first win of mine irl 💕

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc wouldn’t have missed it for the world 🫶🏻

username26: none of us ever thought fred would be anything other than your biggest fan ngl

pierregasly: do I now have to fight your dad too for the position of charles’ best friend???

username27: yn just confirming that fred gives them the green light like it’s no biggie ✅

georgerussell63: I never knew your dad had such a side like this in him 😂

ynvasseur: @/georgerussell63: he’s crazier than me I swear!!

username28: fred looks like such a proud dad 😭😭

carlossainz55: so glad I don’t have to listen to him moan about how scared he is to see your dad anymore 🤦🏻‍♂️

username29: where are you in all these photos we miss you with them!?

arthur_leclerc: now we’ve got fred’s approval I guess we can officially welcome you into the family 🤝

ynvasseur: @/arthur_leclerc can’t wait to meet you guys properly ❤️

username30: it’s funny to me that charles had to explain himself more to fred then any member of his actual family 😝

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 2,038,363 others

charles_leclerc: who knew fred wasn’t actually the coolest vasseur after all 😂 turns out it’s this one who makes me feel like I’m really winning at life 💞

318,059 comments

username31: these two were simply made for each other 🥹

arthur_leclerc: so you can take her on all these holidays but not bother to bring her home to meet us??

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc we’ll be there soon enough, don’t worry!

username32: I might’ve just shed a tear or two reading that caption

lewishamilton: I’m already on the back foot and not even joined the team yet now 😂

carlossainz55: and I thought it was being my teammate that made you feel like you were winning at life 💔

username33: yn must be pretty cool to be considered even cooler than her dad 😂

danielricciardo: you’ve for a girlfriend?? you should’ve mentioned it 😱

username34: they’re both equally as awesome as the other imo!!

pierregasly: does this now make you an honorary vasseur for life?

username35: it’s not fair how one person really can have it all 😭

ynvasseur: for the record I’m better than my dad at everything 😉

charles_leclerc: @/ynvasseur let’s get you behind the wheel of an f1 car and put that to the test??

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d like to take back my original statement 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: let’s be honest, he never really needed to impress my dad anyway 🥹

49,473 comments

charles_leclerc: fred told me he adored me and I’m never gonna shut up about it 🥰

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d crack a joke but I think he actually might prefer you to me 😬

username36: we all know charles is the favourite child deep down ☺️

oscarpiastri: charles does not stop talking about how amazing your dad is btw

ynvasseur: @/oscarpiastri he’s only doing that to make sure he keeps my dad on side!!

username37: the relationship these two have is the sweetest 🥹

carlossainz55: can confirm that this was definitely the case!

username38: I feel like it won’t be long before yn is actually third wheeling fred and charles instead

maxverstappen1: everyone in the paddock knows no one loves charles more than your dad 😂

username39: if I didn’t adore these two before, I definitely do now they’re together too

landonorris: you deserve a medal for putting up with him yn 😂

username40: these captions are honestly gold 🔥

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[call-memissbrightside]

Hi Katsuki would be super nice to you when you’re high.

Your head is airy, and you have a dumb (and cute) smile on your face as your gaze gets hazy.

“Katsuki, did you know that I’ve only lied to my parents once in my life?”

Katsuki was setting up Minecraft, clicking to add your controller to his counsel on the floor. You were snuggled up on the couch, so high off your ass.

“What was the lie baby?” Katsuki didn’t smoke, but didn’t care if you did. He knew when the devils lettuce was hitting because your voice got smaller and you couldn’t stop blushing at him.

“I lied and told them that I never smoke weed!” It’s funny to you, and your laugh is airy.

Katsuki sits back to watch you, smirking.

“You’re such a bad girl.” Katsuki bursted out laughing when your little pot head took a bit to catch his words, and your dramatic gasp was poorly late.

“Katsuki Bakugou!” You squealed, laughing and covering your mouth with your blanket.

🍃 Katsuki would sit back and listen to your train of thought just run

🍃he’d pretend he was annoyed when you overwhelmed him with forehead kisses because he was just so handsome!

🍃he watched every single “funny” tik tok you come across and agrees it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen

🍃liked how you’d be blushing so bad when he caught you staring at him

🍃wouldn’t give you snacks for munchies thou… he doesn’t like how you just eat until you feel sick

🍃made your ass stay home, you were vulnerable and he didnt want your high to be a bad time

🍃he doesn’t smoke, but he supports your decision to and he tries to ensure your time high is fun and would never take advantage of you

🍃okay that’s it 😭 leave me alone 😅

[rafecameronssl4t]

Forced marriage au request: I know it was purely a transactional marriage and he finds her annoying, always acting cold but maybe you could write about him going soft, starting to feel something towards her. being a bit confused and feeling protective of her 🥺

Foreign feelings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR 2K FOLLOWERS AHHHH LOVE EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUS

Warnings: mention of blood,

Word count: 1,840

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe’s voice slices through the air like a knife, its sharpness reverberating down the long, empty hallway. You sit in the armchair, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, pretending not to hear him. But his presence is impossible to ignore. The steady rhythm of his footsteps grows louder, the sound bouncing off the cold marble floors, each step punctuating his rising anger.

He finally comes to a stop beside the armchair where you sit, tension radiating off him. “Get up,” he commands, his voice cold and unyielding. The chill in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, but you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge him. Your gaze remains glued to the screen, as if the scene playing out before you could somehow drown out the tension crackling in the air.

“No,” you reply, your voice firm, laced with quiet defiance. You don’t bother to look at him; the anger radiating from him is palpable enough. His scoff is filled with derision, the sound grating against your nerves. “I said get up. I’m not asking, I’m telling you,” he spits, his words sharp as glass.

Reluctantly, you drag your eyes away from the screen and turn to face him. The sight of him only intensifies the knot of irritation in your chest. His jaw is clenched, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. Something has clearly set him off, and by the look on his face, it’s bad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?” you snap, suspicion lacing your tone. It’s rare for him to come home in the middle of the day, especially with this kind of energy. Your eyes narrow, trying to gauge the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be at work,” he snarls, “but instead, I get a call from your mother asking about your whereabouts because you can’t seem to pick up your damn phone.” His voice is rising, the anger simmering just below the surface. You roll your eyes, dismissing the seriousness he’s trying to impress upon you.

“My phone was flat. I was charging it in my room,” you say with a shrug, your tone indifferent, as if that alone should explain everything. To you, it’s a non-issue, not worth the confrontation. “Why couldn’t she just call Anita? Or literally any of the staff?”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration bubbling over. “Did you forget that today is a public holiday? No one is here,” he snaps, his words dripping with condescension. His hands drop to his hips as he lets out a loud, exasperated sigh, trying to rein in his temper. “She wants to see you at her house, now,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. The demand in his voice is clear—this is not a request.

You open your mouth to argue, to push back against his orders, but the words die in your throat. There’s no point in resisting when he’s like this—volatile and unyielding. “Fine, just let me get my shoes,” you huff, annoyance prickling at you as you stand up. He steps aside, giving you space to pass, but as you brush by him, you hear his muttered curse, low but unmistakable.

“Fucking brat.” The words hit you like a slap, stinging more than you care to admit. You pause for a fraction of a second before continuing your stride, your back stiff with indignation. “I heard that, you prick,” you call out over your shoulder, your voice sharp, the anger simmering beneath the surface finally finding an outlet. You don’t bother to turn around; you’ve already given him enough of your attention.

~

You let out a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you as you shut the door of Rafe’s car. The air outside is thick with the late afternoon heat, but it does little to warm the chill that runs down your spine as you gaze up at your parents’ house. The grand facade looms before you, imposing and uninviting, its elegant walls holding more secrets than comfort.

You wonder, not for the first time, why your mother has summoned you here so urgently. The unease you feel is only deepened by the knowledge that nothing good ever comes from such unexpected calls. As you begin the walk towards the front door, you glance back over your shoulder at Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the bonnet of his car, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on his watch as if your family drama is just another inconvenience in his day.

His indifference grates on your nerves, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. He isn’t coming inside, leaving you to face whatever awaits you alone. The door opens before you even reach it, your parents’ butler standing there with a solemn expression. He nods curtly, directing you to the drawing room where your mother waits. His silence feels like a warning, but you push it aside, forcing your feet to move forward.

The house is eerily quiet, the only sound the soft click of your heels against the polished floors. When you reach the drawing room, you pause for a moment, hand resting on the door handle. Steeling yourself, you push the door open and step inside. The room is dimly lit, heavy drapes partially drawn against the late afternoon sun.

Your mother’s back is turned to you, her posture rigid as she stares out the window, her reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. “Did you not think I wouldn't notice?” Her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and cold, freezing you in place. A shiver runs through you as your body tenses instinctively at her tone.

“Notice what?” you ask slowly, the words cautious as you take a few steps into the room. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approach her, the air thick with unspoken accusations. You move towards the armchair, lowering yourself into it with deliberate calm, though your heart pounds in your chest.

Your mother doesn’t turn to face you. Instead, she lifts her teacup with a graceful hand, taking a delicate sip before setting it back on the table beside her. The soft clink of porcelain is the only sound that fills the room, heightening your anxiety.

“Oh, don’t act stupid now, dear,” she says with a chuckle, the sound low and mocking. The corners of her lips curl into a smile, but it’s anything but warm. It’s the kind of smile that sends a chill down your spine, a predator’s grin before the strike. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry as you struggle to maintain your composure.

~

The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth as you bit down on your trembling lip, trying to keep yourself from breaking down completely. Your vision blurred, the tears that you had fought so hard to hold back now clouding your sight as you stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.

Rafe was still where you had left him, leaning lazily against the bonnet of his car, his expression one of bored impatience. He barely glanced up at the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. But as you drew closer, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance.

“Finally, haven’t got all fuckin’ day—” Rafe’s words trailed off as his eyes narrowed, his irritation quickly giving way to something else, something unfamiliar. Concern? It felt foreign to him, this sudden urge to care about what was happening to you. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the state you were in—your eyes red and swollen from crying, cheeks streaked with tears, and most telling of all, the angry redness of a handprint still visible on your skin.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a concern he wasn’t used to feeling, especially not for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The tries you had tried so hard to keep from falling fell, and the sobs that had been building inside you came rushing out, unstoppable and raw.

Your hands flew to your face as if to hide from him, from the world, from the humiliation and pain that you couldn’t bear to show. Rafe hesitated for a moment, wanting to tell you to pull yourself together. But something in the way you crumpled in front of him, so broken and vulnerable, made him pause.

Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, his annoyance evaporating as he pulled you into his arms. The gesture surprised him as much as it did you. His hold was firm yet gentle, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him.

It was as if his body moved on its own, instinctively knowing that this was what you needed, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soothing, a contrast to the cold, distant tone he usually reserved for you. His fingers tangled in your hair as he tried to calm you, his touch surprisingly tender as he stroked your back, letting you cry against him.

For once, his usual rough edges were softened, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing, grounding you in the midst of your anguish. As you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, Rafe found himself torn between confusion and something deeper. This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel—this protectiveness, this need to shield you from whatever had hurt you.

You were supposed to be an inconvenience, a pawn in a game neither of you had wanted to play. But now, with you trembling in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, the way his heart ached at the sight of your pain. He had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, on maintaining that distance between the two of you. But now, as he held you close, something inside him was shifting, softening in a way that scared him.

He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel this pull towards you that was growing stronger with every passing second. Yet here he was, unable to pull away, unable to stop himself from wanting to protect you, even if he didn’t fully understand why. Rafe didn’t say anything more, didn’t know what to say as you continued to cry against his chest.

The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that moment—one filled with pain, but also with a strange sense of comfort. For the first time, Rafe allowed himself to be vulnerable too, to let down the walls he had so carefully constructed. And as he held you, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this marriage than he had ever let himself believe.

[hoshifighting]

      wonwoo!best friend's brother

— your best friend's older brother, the guy who dropped out of university a long time ago but still shows up once in a while at your and your best friend's dorm. the thing is, she's in a tutoring class right now, leaving you and him alone after all these years of having a huge crush on him.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, making out, almost getting caught, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob, spiting.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you hear the door click as you wipe down the last bit of the counter, the smell of cleaning products lingering in the air. wonwoo’s here again—because of course, he is. once a year, like clockwork, he pulls up outside your dorm building, car keys in hand, sipping some energy drink like he’s the busiest man alive, even though he’s been out of university for, what? two years now? maybe more. it’s almost funny, how he thinks showing up in his beat-up car, leaning against the doorframe, makes him look cool.

your best friend’s not even here. she’s in some tutoring session because she "really needs to pass this bio class." but, of course, she told you, warned you, that wonwoo might drop by.

“hey,” he says, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of model, downing a sip from the can like it's giving him more life than it should.

“she’s not here,” you say, wiping your hands on your shorts. you’re pretending like you’re not even thinking about the way they’re barely covering anything right now. it’s just cleaning clothes, but you catch his eyes flick down for half a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“oh? what, she ditch me or something?” he teases, eyes sparkling with that casual cockiness he always carries around.

you laugh, shaking your head. “nah, she’s at a tutoring session. bio, i think? she’s stressing hard. she said she’d be back in a couple hours, so you can wait if you want... or leave. i won’t stop you.”

“tutoring? she actually studying? i thought she gave that up ages ago,” he snickers, leaning against the couch, tapping his foot like he’s been there forever. “reminds me of my sister, always freaking out about school... only she actually tries.”

you snort, rolling your eyes. “yeah, well, not everyone’s like you, mister ‘dropped out but still thinks he runs the place.’”

“i’m just here for the vibes,” he shrugs, eyes settling on you for a little too long, way too comfortable. way too focused. “plus, i wouldn’t call it ‘dropping out’... i just, y’know, found my path elsewhere.”

you shake your head, pretending not to care. but fuck, that grin? dangerous. absolutely dangerous. the guy is too good-looking for his own good, and the fact that he’s here, all casual like he’s just dropping by, is making your heart race in a way you’re desperately trying to ignore. and those eyes—yeah, you can feel him looking at you.

you turn, grabbing a water from the fridge to cool down because jesus, he’s looking right through you. you twist the cap and take a long gulp, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, trying to play it cool.

“you good?” his voice cuts through the silence. casual, like it’s no big deal.

you choke a little on the water and turn around, trying not to look flustered. “yeah, yeah. why wouldn’t i be?”

he raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “dunno, just... you’re kinda tense. cleaning stress?”

you laugh it off, but the sound’s more nervous than you want it to be. “something like that.”

fuck, why is this so hard?

he takes another sip of his red bull, his eyes flicking over your legs again, slower this time. it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and you’re just... standing there, pretending you don’t feel it, but inside, you’re absolutely losing your mind. freaking out.

“you always this... jumpy around me?” he asks, smirking like he already knows the answer.

“shut up,” you toss a dish towel at him, more as a distraction for you than him, but he catches it easily, his grin widening.

“what, can’t take a little teasing? you’ve been dodging my questions all day.”

all day? he’s been here for twenty minutes. still, your stomach flips at the way he’s just standing there, so confident, so sure. it’s unfair how hot he is when he’s like this, leaning against the counter, arms crossed like he’s just waiting for you to crack.

“i’m not dodging anything,” you lie, crossing your arms, even though you know your face is giving you away. “you’re just being annoying.”

“am i?” he steps closer, his voice dropping slightly. “or am i just... distracting you?”

“wonwoo,” you start, your heart’s pounding, your skin tingling. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” he’s closer now, and fuck, he’s standing way too close, his breath brushing your cheek as he leans in. “i’m just talking, y/n.”

just talking, but the way his eyes drop to your lips says otherwise, and you’re not sure how much longer you can pretend this isn’t happening.

you’ve never been this close to him before, and it’s making your pulse race, your head spin. his hand hovers near your hip, like he’s waiting for permission, waiting for you to crack. it’s not fair how good he smells.

“you used to play dolls with my sister, you know,” he mutters, his lips brushing your ear. “now look at you.”

his fingers graze your waist, light at first, but the way his eyes lock on yours? there’s no going back. you shiver, heat pooling in your gut, and his hand slips lower, gripping the curve of your ass like it belongs to him. he laughs softly when you gasp, his other hand trailing up your side, fingers brushing the thin fabric of your top.

“wonwoo, you can’t just—” your words cut off as he cups your tit, thumb running over your nipple through your shirt, the sensation making your knees go weak. it’s so subtle, but you feel everything—his breath on your neck, the rough texture of his palm, the way his body presses against yours like he can’t stand the distance anymore.

“what? can’t just what?” his voice is low, mocking, as he leans down, his lips inches from yours. “you’ve been staring at me like that for years, y/n. you think i didn’t notice?”

your brain short-circuits as he presses his mouth to yours, starting slow, teasing, like he’s waiting for you to snap. and when you kiss him back—hard, desperate, craving more—he groans against your lips, his tongue immediately slipping past them. he sucks on your tongue like he’s savoring the taste, his hand squeezing your ass, pulling you closer as you try to remember how to breathe. it’s wet, sloppy, and so fucking messy, the sound of your lips meeting, tongues sliding against each other, filling the small kitchen.

you moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt, trying to keep up with the way he devours you, his other hand now fully under your shirt, palming your bare tit. it’s so much—too much, and you arch into his touch, losing yourself in the heat of it all.

and then you hear it.

keys, fumbling at the front door. shit.

you push him away so fast he stumbles back, eyes wide, lips shiny and swollen from your kiss. his fingers are still brushing his bottom lip, eyes flicking to the door in disbelief as the knob turns.

“fuck,” you whisper, trying to catch your breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, but you can’t stop shaking. you dart back to the sink, pretending to scrub some nonexistent spot, heart racing a mile a minute.

the door flies open, and your best friend bursts in, barely even noticing the two of you. “i forgot this fucking book,” she mutters, rummaging through her stuff on the couch. her back is to you both, and wonwoo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, trying his best to look casual.

he smirks at you, and you glare back, your mind racing, heart pounding. does she know? she can’t know.

“you two good?” she asks, barely glancing your way as she grabs her stuff. “i’ll be back in like, fifteen minutes. sorry. tutor’s gonna kill me if i don’t bring this. see you in a sec.” and just like that, she’s gone again, the door slamming shut behind her.

the second the door clicks, wonwoo bursts out laughing, dragging a hand through his hair, and your face is burning.

“did you just shove me away?” he teases, stepping closer again, his hands now resting on the counter behind you, trapping you. “scared of getting caught, huh?”

you shove at his chest, but you’re laughing too. “you’re insane. she could’ve seen us, you idiot.”

“what, and ruin the fun?” he grins, biting his bottom lip, and your stomach flips at the sight. “you should’ve just let her. i think she’d approve.”

you roll your eyes, but before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again—rougher this time, more desperate. it’s like he’s making up for lost time, kissing you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, hands roaming over your body like he’s been dying to touch you. you’re pressed back against the counter, trapped between him and the hard surface, and it feels so fucking good.

“wonwoo, the couch,” you murmur between kisses, pushing at his chest just enough to make him move. he gets the hint, pulling you toward the couch, his hand never leaving your waist, never giving you a chance to breathe.

the second your back hits the cushions, he’s on you again, kissing you so hard it leaves you dizzy, his hands wandering everywhere—your thighs, your waist, your tits. he’s fucking everywhere, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, all you can feel is him, everywhere.

his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts, teasing the edge, but you grab his wrist, pulling him back. “not yet,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “let me…”

you trail off, sliding off the couch, sinking to your knees between his legs. wonwoo’s eyes widen, the teasing smirk on his face replaced with pure shock. “wait—”

“shh,” you murmur, already tugging at his belt, pulling his jeans down just enough to free him. your mouth waters at the sight of him, long, hard and already dripping. you can’t help but smirk up at him before leaning in, taking him into your mouth in all in once, in the most greedy way.

wonwoo groans, his head falling back against the couch, his fingers threading through your hair as you start to move. you take him like your favorite popsicle, hollowing your cheeks, loving the way his hips buck up into your mouth, the way he can’t control the sounds he’s making.

he pants, his voice strained, and it only spurs you on, sucking harder, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him all the way down again. the sound of your mouth, wet and sloppy, fills the room, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

he tightens his grip in your hair, guiding you as he thrusts into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans your name again, louder this time. you can feel him getting close, his thrusts making you gag slighty, his hips jerking up more urgently.

“fuck, i’m—” he chokes out, but before he can finish, his hips stutter, and he comes with a loud groan, spilling into your mouth. you swallow every drop, not slowing down until he’s completely spent.

you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at him.

his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back on his lap. “c’mere,” he mutters. and before you know it, his lips are on yours again, urgent, like he needs to taste you all over again. the mix of your spit and his cum lingers, and when his tongue swipes along the side of your mouth, to catch more of the taste of him.

his hands slide down to your shorts, fingers curling around the waistband like they’ve been itching to take them off from the second he walked in. you flinch when he pulls them off, showing your panties. his fingers brush against it, and then pulling to the side, and you’re already losing it, but then he spits.

right on your pussy.

you tense when two fingers slide inside you rough, curling just the way you like—coincidentally. you clench around him, moaning, but it’s not enough. you need more, and he knows it.

“so fucking wet for me,” he groans, his other hand pushing your legs open wider. “you’ve wanted this for how long, huh? wanted me to fuck you like this?”

you can’t even answer, your brain is mush, overwhelmed by the way his fingers pump in and out of you, quick and dirty, making you arch into his touch. and then—without warning—he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, slipping inside you so easily, you gasp.

he’s still sensitive, you can tell by the way his breath catches, how his hips jerk forward a little too fast, but the way his dick stretches you out? it’s perfect. too perfect. your eyes roll back, a shaky moan leaving your lips as he starts thrusting, slow at first, like he’s trying to control himself, but that doesn’t last long.

you’re in his lap, legs spread, every little reaction of his face right there in front of you—the way his eyes squeeze shut, his mouth falling open, all the little groans and curses spilling from him as he fucks into you. it’s like he can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist, but still needs to fuck you, to please you.

he lays you, grabs your knees, pulls them up to your chest, bending you in half so he can get even deeper. the angle’s brutal, his cock hitting that sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the room’s filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, his low grunts, your breathless moans.

you’re a wreck under him, fingers clutching at the couch cushions, barely able to keep up with the way he’s pounding into you. his thrusts are rough, fast, almost desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, and every time he slams into you, your whole body shakes.

“wonwoo—fuck, i’m—” you try to warn him, but the words don’t come out right. everything’s too much—the way his hands hold you down, the way he’s fucking you so deep, the pressure building low in your belly until you’re falling apart. you clench around him, your orgasm ripping through you hard, your back arching off the couch as you moan his name.

he watches you, watching that smile on your face, that one that you have when you win a prize, how satisfied you look by being fucked—especially by him, how your eyes roll in ecstasy, nd how you spasm around his cock. is enough for him.

and then it’s over. you’re both panting, bodies spent. he pulls out slowly, leaving you feeling empty. you’re barely conscious as he reaches over, grabbing the nearest blanket and draping it over you, his touch surprisingly gentle for how hard he just fucked you.

“don’t move,” he mutters, smirking at you as he gets up, still zipping up his jeans. “you look good like this.”

you’re too tired to respond, sinking deeper into the couch, eyes half-closed. the door opens again—shit—and your best friend barges in, completely unaware of what just happened.

“ugh finally,” she mutters, tossing it onto the table. “you two good?”

he just grins, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb as he leans against the counter, casual as hell. “just keeping y/n company, we were waiting for you” he says, winking at you when your best friend isn’t looking.

you’re still sprawled out on the couch, barely able to move, trying to act normal, like you weren’t just fucked within an inch of your life, like you weren't just fucked with jeon wonwoo. your best friend glances between the two of you, raising an eyebrow, but she doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re completely knocked out.

“whatever,” she mutters, grabbing her stuff. “i’m going to take a bath.”

the door of the bathroom slams shut, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. wonwoo walks back over to you, chuckling softly as he sits down beside you, leaning in to kiss your forehead, the teasing smirk never leaving his face.

“you should’ve seen your face when she walked in,” he murmurs, his voice low. “but don’t worry. you looked so innocent.”

[leviathanspain]

Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)

the pretender

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined

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you were his favorite girl.

girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.

your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.

snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.

“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.

as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.

but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.

you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.

you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.

“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.

“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.

he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”

“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.

“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.

you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”

“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.

it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.

finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.

he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.

“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.

finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.

“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.

snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”

just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.

finnick.

oh how could you forget finnick.

there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?

compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.

“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.

“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.

you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.

but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.

finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”

you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.

he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.

you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.

there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.

caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.

you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”

caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.

finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.

he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.

“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.

“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.

your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.

as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.

you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-

“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.

you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.

you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.

yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.

except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.

“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.

“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.

right.

“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.

snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.

“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.

your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.

with or without him.

[qurbanjaan]

My experience and personal view on veiling as someone who grew up under a Burqa

When I was born, my father didn’t want me because I was a girl. When a girl is born, she isn’t cherished like a boy. Your life is received as a deadweight (note: I’m not saying this is something that happens every single time, just most of them) and a disappointment by the family. When your first breath comes in, the honor is on your shoulders.

My parents were so disappointed they gave me up to my aunt and uncle until I was one year old. When I was three, my father tried to sell/promise me into marriage. My grandmother, his mother, was the one who intervened and stopped him from doing it.

As I grew up, I noticed clear differences between me and girls from less conservative families, but everything was relatively normal until I hit nine years old. When it happened, I suddenly stopped traveling with my parents, stopped being able to leave the curtains open, couldn’t wear the clothes I used to wear even though I was still a child… as I grew older and older, the restrictions increased as my uncle and my father said I was becoming a beautiful woman and “I would be a problem for their family”.

Then, when I noticed, I wasn’t allowed to appear on windows, get packages from the mailman, go out in the yard, have a phone, stay alone in my room, talk to men (even if it was something as trivial as buying groceries), going out alone, needing to looking down when men walk past you, stay in your room when there’s visitors and don’t make a noise so they can’t hear you, not speak too loudly either, not share your name… the list is endless.

And, when you grow up inside a such conservative, traditional and religious family, your only future is disappearing. Along with having no voice and no face, servitude is as inescapable as death.

When you’re under a piece of cloth, you become faceless, you have no identity of your own. Outside the house, you’re a ghost. Inside the house, you’re a servant. You have no choice over yourself. This is your identity, a servant ghost who’s screams people pretend not to hear.

To a certain level, when you try to reflect on it, the veiling can be comforting. Being invisible can be comforting, no one sees you, you don’t need to worry about a thing. You can hide all your thoughts and most shameful actions from the daylight and no one is going to find out about them. But, when you are under the veil, your identity becomes something only you know about. To the rest of the world, you don’t exist, you’re not human. The veil will slowly dehumanize you, you will start fading away and there’s nothing you can do about it because how can someone attribute a face to a piece of fabric with a mesh on eye level?

And don’t fool yourself, the longer you keep your veil on, the harder the expectations will be. You may only need to cover now, but in some time, they will ask you why are your toes showing and why are you not hiding your hands behind the veil too, and why are you even outside your house? You should be home, protecting your family’s honor, you’re disgracing your family, go home.

And you may think “I’m invisible to the outside world but in my house I’m irreplaceable”, are you? How irreplaceable will you be when a younger, better wife comes in and the only safety you may have is the idea that your children will grow up to take care of you? How would someone possibly feel bad for you when you are nothing but a black trashbag? If you become a beggar, how will they see the suffering on your face if it will be covered and hidden away from the world?

I can’t be hypocritical and say that I don’t feel a sense of security under the veil, but it’s a false sense of security. When the time for your death comes, you won’t have your name on your grave, you won’t have a face. All you will ever have been is a servant, invisible to the outside world, with no God above to wonder “what about her?”. How dear are you inside those walls?

[miniimight]

DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...

prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.

part two

you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.

you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?

it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.

it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.

you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.

"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.

he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."

a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"

those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.

rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.

"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.

you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.

he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.

you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"

"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.

"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?

"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.

"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."

wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.

you just stared back.

his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?

"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"

you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."

he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.

you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.

he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.

the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.

he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.

rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.

i love you.

goodbye.

he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.

he hated himself for it.

hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.

then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.

he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.

you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"

"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.

you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."

you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."

you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"

"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.

you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"

you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.

his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.

fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.

indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.

he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.

he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."

you smiled insincerely. "great."

rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."

your eyes squinted. "why?"

he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"

you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"

he frowned. "it's not."

your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"

his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."

you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."

rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"

"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?

rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.

he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.

rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.

"baby," he whispered.

"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.

he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."

"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.

he glared at you. "would you just listen?"

"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.

"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears off your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."

he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.

"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."

his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."

your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.

"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.

you scoffed. "love? you love me?"

he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."

you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."

"y/n." he growled—a warning.

"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."

"y/n."

"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.

"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."

"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.

"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."

"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"

he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."

you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."

"you won't."

you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."

"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."

you opened your mouth to retort.

"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"

your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.

"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.

the window closed completely.

you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.

this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out. anyway, do we want a part two?

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3