#just the thought of doing most things makes me feel nauseous

[lovelaceisntdead]

did you know that you actually have to take medication prescribed to you for it to work.

[depresseddepot]

trying to determine which parts of my relationship with sex are asexuality, which are trauma, and which are autism is like trying to have a conversation with three people talking loudly and all at once

[thethingything]

we fell asleep for a couple of hours right after midnight so now it's like 3:20am and we didn't do much before midnight because we were too exhausted and had to lay down and ended up falling asleep then as well, and we have to try and go to bed early because we have to wake up early, and I just really don't feel great about any of it

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe gets jealous because of reader

warning: smut!! bathroom funtimes (again?) MDNI these two are always making each other jealous why do they match each other's freaks like that and where do i get that ... also sorry

rafe was always so territorial and possessive when it came to something, or someone he deemed as his, and even though he had a girlfriend, in his eyes, you belonged to him.

you weren't sure if it was the booze, or just your naturally jealous personality, but seeing him have his arm thrown around sofia's shoulder at the party he had thrown felt like someone stabbed you in the chest, the way he whispered into her ear making you feel nauseous, bringing back every time you'd seen him kiss her the way he kissed you, when he'd pretend like you were nothing but his best friend in front of her, only to drag you to the closest bedroom the moment he had the chance. and at that moment, you'd had enough.

usually, when guys came up to flirt with you, you'd ignore them, but when a tall, dark-haired guy you recognized as one of your old classmates approached you, it was as if the devil perched on your shoulder was telling you to take advantage of the situation. and you were never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

so, after a few moments spent catching up with your old classmate, you started flirting with the boy, and it was as if 'subtle' wasn't a word in your vocabulary, your hand pressed on his bicep while you bit down on your lower lip, making sure to look at him with the best bedroom eyes you could muster up while the boy's hand slid onto your waist; a part of you felt so silly for doing that, but an even bigger part of you was desperate for some kind of reaction out of rafe.

you pretended not to notice the way rafe was looking at you, his hand clenching around his solo cup, the boy running a hand over his blonde buzzcut as his jaw tightened, the veins on his arm looking as if they were going to burst out of rage.

every part of you was enjoying making him feel the way you always felt when you saw him with sofia, and so you leaned closer to the boy's ear, giving him permission to move his hand onto your ass.

and when rafe saw the way the boy's hand slid onto the round curve of your ass, it was as if all of the blood was drained out of his face, the feeling in his chest only made worse by the way you giggled at something the brunette had said. he unattached himself from sofia, telling her and his friends that he'd go get something to drink, the group going right back to their previous conversation.

you could see him approach you in the corner of your eye, but you acted like you didn't care, and whatever the brunette was saying to you was the most interesting thing ever, even though you were barely listening to a thing he said, it going in one ear and out the other.

when you heard rafe clear his throat, the blonde now standing right next to you, a shiver ran down your spine and you wondered how such a small thing was enough for a rush of arousal to hit you.

"heyyy, can i talk to you?" he asked, and you turned to look at him nonchalantly, the boy you were talking to now turning to look at him in confusion.

"sorry, i'm kind of busy." you said with a spiteful smile, but it seemed like rafe wasn't taking no for an answer, and before you could even finish the sentence, his hand was wrapped around your arm. you cleared your throat, turning to the boy you were talking to with a friendly smile. "sorry, i'll be right back."

you let rafe drag you into the bathroom, the boy locking the door behind him as he pushed you against the tile wall, his hands on your hips, so dangerously close to the hem of your dress, his hot breath on your face.

"what the fuck was that?" he asked in a rough, low voice, and you could feel his erection pressing against your abdomen, only heightening your own arousal. "why the fuck were you talking to him?"

"you were clearly busy." you shrugged, "i thought i'd give a chance to someone who wants me for something other than a quick fuck."

"you serious?" he scoffs, one of his hands moving to hold onto your chin as he tilts your head back so you'd look at him, "i know guys like that, the only thing he wants from you is exactly that."

"you're one to talk."

when rafe processed what you'd just said, it was as if someone had slapped him in the face. he hated to admit it, but you were right. he had treated you as if you were just some hook-up, instead of his best friend since you were both children. but he knew you'd never understand why he did that, why he kept you at a distance, the tight grip he had on your hip now loosening a bit. he cleared his throat, but you could still hear some tightness in it, as he whispered into your ear, his pupils widened to cover half of his pretty blues, "let me make it up to you, baby."

and somehow, before you even knew it, you were once again sitting on the bathroom counter, holding onto the marble countertop with your dear life, your panties lost somewhere on the bathroom floor while his tongue lapped up the arousal soaking your folds before his lips attached themselves to your clit, sucking on it while his fingers thrust in and out of you.

your dress was hiked up to your waist, rafe's muscular arms holding onto your thighs while he knelt in front of the counter, your arms wobbling while they tried to hold you up, by the counter your loud moans covered up by the music coming from the living room.

you hated the fact that only rafe was able to do this to you - to drive you this crazy, to make you feel this good. you'd tried being with other guys, but nothing felt quite as good as being with him, and it made you curse yourself for ever letting him touch you in the first place.

but none of that was on your mind as you let your orgasm wash over you, moaning his name like it was the only word you could remember, while the blonde started slowing down his movements, letting you ride out your orgasm.

when your breathing was finally starting to settle down, you hopped off the counter onto your wobbly legs, pulling down your dress to cover your thighs, pulling rafe by the collar of his shirt until his lips met yours in an electrifying kiss, tasting yourself on the blonde boy's lips.

after a moment, you pulled away from him, feeling his erection press against your abdomen, your hand trailing down his chest until it met the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer to you by his belt. "your turn?" you suggested, biting down on your lip. rafe grinned, going in for another kiss until you simply pulled away from him, taking a few steps back and booping his nose playfully, your long nails making it look even more comical. "nah, i don't think so, baby."

rafe looked at you with furrowed brows as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands trying to attach themselves to your waist, but you only stepped back.

"i'm not gonna be some quick fuck for you anymore. guess you'll just have to settle for your girlfriend."

you tore off the locket he had given you, the one with the initials r.c as well as a picture of you two, throwing it somewhere on the floor before you walked out of the bathroom without looking back, leaving him to stand there on his own while you made your way back to the party, a newfound determination running through your veins. you wouldn't let him use you again.

[thehauntedetheral]

hi, how are you doing? If is not a bother can you make a yandere ex fuckboy x insecure reader, she is insecure of his past and the girls he used to stay with before they start dating and is terrified of him cheating on her, that bothers the yandere a lot and he goes to the extreme to prove to her that he doesn't want anyone else.

Hello I am doing well and hope you are doing well too. I hope you like this work.

Yandere Ex Fuckboy X Insecure Reader

Requests are open!

• You were always on edge thinking that your boyfriend is with some other girl cheating on you when he is not with you.

• You love your boyfriend a lot. And he has been an amazing boyfriend to you all the time being caring, protective, sweet, understanding towards you. But his past. His past always haunts you and makes you feel insecure.

• In the past before you two got into the relationship yan was the Fuckboy of your college. Girls always surrounding him and being attracted to him like a moth to a flame as he was tall, good looking, rich and extremely good in bed with his smooth as butter flirting skills and charming personality.

• Some even say that he slept with more than half of the girls in campus.

• But after meeting you this man gets changed for forever. He has never felt something so strong like this for anyone ever.

• He tries his best to court you. Begging to you on his knees to make him your boyfriend. This man becomes a simp when it comes to you.

• But you ignored him knowing his infamous Fuckboy image.

• To get your attention he follows you around like a lost puppy, Spoiling you with flowers, meals, coffee anything you want just please let him be your boyfriend and let him love you.

• Frustrated by his constant chaos you finally give him a chance and say yes.

• He tries his best to be the best boyfriend for you not wanting to disappoint you on the chance you have given him. And true to his words he is a really good boyfriend to you.

• You don't know that this is the first relationship yan ever had. Yes he slept around a lot but never dated anyone. You are the first.

• When he gets to know his love, his darling is feeling insecure due to his past he does all the possible ways to show you that he belongs only to you and no one.

• Wearing tshirts which have things like this written all over it " My girlfriend is hotter than you" or "I love my girlfriend" while walking around the campus showing everyone. If his tshirt doesn't have this written on it then it definitely will be a photo of you printed all over his tshirt.

• Wears the handmade bracelet you made for him 24/7 not taking it off ever.

• Always wears your hair ties on his wrist in case you need it and to show people he is already taken by his beautiful girlfriend.

• Is one of the best player of the college's football team and whenever he earns a goal during the matches he dedicates his goals to you pointing at you and screaming "I love you y/n" infront of the whole crowd.

• By the way he changes his jersey number to your birthday date number showing his jersey back to everyone.

• When a girl from his past approaches him he straight up says "I have a beautiful girlfriend whom I love to death so please leave"

• This man is so in love, committed and loyal to you that it's sickly disgusting for others to watch.

• Everyone thinks you have done some kind of witchcraft on him because he has suddenly became the most loving boyfriend for you from the college's Fuckboy.

• This man would do anything for you to never be insecure again that he would even say this "We can get engaged or even better married if it puts your mind to an ease y/n."

Meanwhile reader : "........"

• This man would kill himself before even thinking about cheating on you and hurting you. The thought of some another girl other than you now makes him nauseous let alone even think about touching them.

• Yan is utterly whipped and in love with you. He would even bring the fucking world infront of your knees if you want.

Let me know what you think about this fic.

Requests are open !

For more yandere reading

[afternines]

I HAVE TO LAUGH I HAVE TO LAAUGGGGFHFH

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[kingtomura]

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most. 

You had no idea what he was up to. 

Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 

Maybe he’s found someone else. 

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 

To your surprise, he hadn’t. 

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura. 

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw. 

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that. 

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 

But things are always easier said than done. 

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull. 

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 

“Stop walking away from me!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 

Cat and mouse. 

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.” 

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 

“Tomura…” 

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 

And it’s the truth. 

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

[earthtooz]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[writingoddess1125]

You tell the Old Men you're Pregnant + Extra

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk

Just Fluffy Fluff!

Also to those who are saying "They aren't even old!" Blah Blah- I know. I'm using Old Ironically cause it's funny. Middle Aged just don't have the same ring to it and I would/could sub in DILF but I was trying to be good.

Anywho! Enjoy!!

Shanks

So drinking and unprotected sex can lead to pregnancy- who knew... Panicking yoh decide its best to just rip that bandage off.

"Shanks- I'm pregnant"

Shanks will stare at you for a while, before starting to laugh- Hard. He will bend over laughing as his panic response sets in-

"Shanks this isn't funny! I-"

He grabs your hand and pulls you close as he held you still laughing now much softer.

"You're the best things that has ever happened to me-" He will whisper in your ear and hold you close.

This man acts like he can shit gold and piss roses when he finds out your pregnant. Nothing can get him down or damper his mood.

Even though you are miserable and sick most of this pregnancy- for almost the whole length of your pregnancy you are vomiting or nauseous so Shanks has to make you eat and buys things to help you.

"Shanks I'm not hungry..." You grumble as you sit on the bed. Shanks hanging you a cup of tea and some soft bread.

"I know love- But you haven't had anything solid in 3 days. Let's get this bread a try?" He says softly, You nodding and eating what you could and sipping of the flowery tea.

He will eventually find something that you can eat without getting sick and buy as much of it as possible. He may grow tired of the smell but will never complain.

When you go into labor he is still a little too excited at the prospect of his child being brought into the world. Will comfort you the whole way through but is more interested in seeing his child.

Buggy

It was a complete accident- You blamed the trip to the hot springs two months previously.. being pregnant with Buggy's child was definitely not what you had planned for yourself or him.

"Buggy I'm pretty sure I'm um.. pregnant"

You beeak it to him after a good day and even set out his favorite sweets to try and make this as soft as possible. Buggy just stares at you, His face completely unreadable as he just stares at you.

"Buggy?..." You are now anxious as he stays silent and stone faced- However he walks over to you lightly and just wraps his arms around you. Not saying a word but you can feel how tense his body is- He's scared?...

"We will be fine.. All of us. How do you feel about it?..." He will mumbled- This being so different to how he normally is as he is feeling scared in a new way.

After the initial shock of it all he will be so over the top its not even funny. You might as well be made out of glass and carrying a paper child cause that's how he treats you. Infront of the crew while he is less likely to be as openly affectionate he is still just as protective.

Understands physical insecurities so will never insult or even bring up your appearance as your body goes through changes. Hell have mercy on the person who even accidently hints at your bigger weight since he will go ape-shit and throw the biggest tantrum of all temper tantrums before brutally killing whoever said it.

He is very Very touchy- his hand has to always be on you at all times and so his detached hand has been known to stay either on your lower back, or on your arm like some horror themed arm band.

In private he is very thoughtful especially as you get near the due date.

"Sorry pressure" You hissed in discomfort rolling to your side to receive some pressure from your back. Buggy getting up calmly and moving you to stand on your feet. Which was definently not something you wanted-

That was till Buggy stood behind you as his hand detached and went under your large belly gently listing it up which relived the pressure from your back. You sigh and lean against him as he does this. Will hold you stomach up for a solid hour ignoring the sorness in his hands for you-

Will feed you constantly any food he can find, Anything you want he has made for you. If a food makes you sick magically the plate seems to be thrown out to open sea.

Will also be an emotional wreck when his children are born- If you are angry at him or scream while in labor he will take it- if not give a few quips back. However all is forgotten once the kids arrive.

Mihawk

While you believe it was an accident- It was not by Mihawks standards. He has been planning this for months since you are the only one he sees worthy of officially carrying his children.

"Mihawk I'm pregnant" You say bracing for at least a level of irritation but instead he looked pleased. Reaching a hand out to caress your belly and stare at you fondly.

"I am happy to hear that"

Will take blame in saying he must have not been careful and that its too late now and will be happy to take full and total responsibility.

Is a textbook kind of man so will have book pages memorized on what you should be doing. How many more calories needed for the baby, stretches, the healthiest food. Aka he's fucking annoying-

You will be in the kitchen with a fork in a cake eating, feeling the wave of low blood sugar that has clouded your mind and tired of the veggies or fresh fruit that Mihawk had shoved down your throat- Mid bite the cake was pulled away by Mihawk.

"It is bad for you to have-" Will pause at your glare as you step very close to him, Grabbing his beard with iron clasp hands and yank him down to your level which make his eyes go wide.

"Mihawk... If you don't hand over that cake- I'm going to take your sword and shove it so far up your ass that the handle will be in your mouth" You all but hiss, Making Mihawk lower the cake down and hand it to you silently.

Will learn that maybe not everything has to go to textbook. Despite being a bit of a hardass for your safety he will give you massages, rub your feet help decorate to your liking. If you're sick will help you the entire time in getting better.

Rubs lotion on any tender spots or stretch marks and hums a tune you've never heard before.

Will be there with every step of the way during the labor. Supportive and comforting the whole time his child is being brought into the world, If complications will be a rock for you and will pick you if it came down to it.

[hotshotsxyz]

buck, eddie & the great comet of 2024

(buddie) (1.1k words) for and inspired by @moonlightperseus who said, and i quote, "do you think he would break down crying in bucks arms out in the middle of nowhere under the stars". yes. yes i do.

There’s something to be said for wallowing, Eddie thinks. It’s hard to make any new mistakes, for one, and it’s far less labor-intensive than any of the alternatives. So yeah, maybe he’s wallowing a little bit, but it’s not like he needs to be saved from himself.

He says as much to Buck, who immediately rolls his eyes.

“I’m not saving you, I’m kidnapping you,” he says.

“Maybe I don’t want to be kidnapped,” Eddie replies. He settles further into the couch to make his point.

Buck frowns. “I don’t think the kidnap-ee really gets a say in it,” he says. “Anyway, you’re not going to make me go alone, are you?”

 “To what?” Eddie asks. “You haven’t even told me where we’re going.”

 Buck’s eyes light up like he’s won something. Eddie replays the last few seconds of conversation in his head and groans.

“Come on, do you trust me?” He asks, and it’s not even really a question. Or, if it is, Buck knows the answer just as well as he does.

“Fine,” Eddie sighs. “I’m picking the music, though.”

Buck grins. “Deal.”

Just to fuck with him, Eddie starts their drive with the most depressing song in his library.

Buck snorts as soon as he recognizes it. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“I’m being kidnapped,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I can be mopey.”

“Yeah, but… Trading Yesterday mopey?”

His nose wrinkles and Eddie can’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, Trading Yesterday, Amber Run— sure you don’t just want to leave me to my misery?”

“Nah, I always want you around,” Buck says, a little too soft, a little too sincere to be anything but the truth.

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. “Okay,” he says. He tries to ignore how raw it feels as it leaves his tongue.

“Just add some Death Cab for Cutie for me,” Buck teases.

Eddie huffs something close to a laugh and adds Transatlanticism to the queue.

By the time Buck turns onto Angel Crest Highway, Eddie’s given up on trying to work out where they’re going.

“You know, I thought you were joking about the kidnapping,” he says.

“Oh no, I take my kidnapping very seriously,” Buck says, glancing over.

Eddie laughs, and then his stomach growls. “Any chance your plot includes snacks?” He asks.

The corner of Buck’s mouth quirks up. “What kind of kidnapper do you take me for?”

“The kind that’s trying to Stockholm Syndrome me, clearly,” Eddie drawls.

“Is it working?” Buck asks. His eyes are alight with mirth, and not for the first time Eddie finds himself a little distracted by them.

He hums an affirmative. “You’ve got me right where you want me.”

“Alright,” Buck says. “We’re here.”

Here is, seemingly, a random scenic overlook. In the distance, the sun is slowly sinking below the horizon.

“And we’re… watching the sunset?” Eddie guesses.

“Nope,” Buck says. He pauses and tilts his head to the side. “Well actually, yeah, I guess we are. But not just the sunset!”

“So…” Eddie prompts.

Buck rubs at the back of his head. “It’s, uh— do you remember that comet I told you about a few months ago?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he does. It’d been while they were on shift, a slow one if Eddie remembers correctly. Buck had excitedly shown him a NASA article and said that he was putting it in his calendar for—

For Chris.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes.

“Is— is that okay?” Buck asks.

Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head back. “Yeah,” he says, a little rough. “I just wish…”

“Me too.”

A familiar wave of guilt crashes through Eddie’s chest. It’s just one more thing on a long list of things Chris is missing out on because of him.

“I’m still glad we’re here,” Buck says, taking Eddie’s wrist in his hand.

Eddie feels a little nauseous when he realizes he is too.

Buck packed them an entire dinner to eat while they wait for the comet to become visible on the horizon. If Chris was here, Buck probably would’ve brought a few camp chairs for them to use, but as it is they sit on the floor of the Jeep’s cargo space, legs dangling past the rear bumper. It’s a little chilly in the mountains; Eddie appreciates the long line of warmth that is Buck’s body pressed against his, shoulder to knee.

In hushed tones, Buck tells Eddie everything he knows about Tsuchinshan-ATLAS, which is, apparently, the comet’s name. He describes its origin in the Oort Cloud, and how it survived a seemingly deadly trip around the sun.

“It won’t be back for another eight hundred centuries,” Buck says breathlessly.

Eddie loves him like this. He loves the curiosity that emanates from him in waves, and the way he seems to have absorbed every little fun fact he’s ever read. He loves the way Buck glows when he shares his knowledge with anyone lucky enough to be in his orbit. He loves—

He loves Buck.

And that’s—

It’s—

Oh.

Of course he does.

The comet makes its appearance forty-five minutes after the last rays of the sun dissipate into inky blue.

“There,” Buck says, pulling Eddie toward the guardrail and pointing at a tiny streak of light in the sky.

All at once, Eddie is desperately sad. He’s here and Buck’s here but Chris isn’t, and it’s not supposed to be like that. It’s supposed to be the three of them together. It’s supposed to be Buck and Chris bouncing fun facts off each other, and Eddie watching fondly as the two people he loves most in this world revel in the joy of sharing a new experience. It’s supposed to be their family, their whole family.

Buck turns to him, like he’s somehow sensed the sudden shift in Eddie’s mood. He offers him a small, sad smile.

“I, uh, I reminded Chris about the comet this morning,” he says quietly.

Eddie takes a shaky breath.

“He should be seeing it too, right about now,” Buck continues. “I know it’s not… but—but we’re looking at the same sky.”

An overwhelming mix of sadness-gratitude-guilt-joy-sorrow-love hits Eddie square in the chest. “You…” he whispers.

Buck bites his lip. “I just… I thought you’d want to know,” he says.

Out of nowhere, a sob bursts from Eddie’s chest. In an instant, Buck’s arms are around him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I can’t fix it.”

Eddie tucks his face into Buck’s neck, and for the first time since the night Christopher left, he lets himself cry.

Buck holds him until the comet is far beyond the horizon.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Without Expectation

You know how everyone is talking about how Astarion has a difficult relationship with hero characters bc he felt abandoned by them when he was suffering? What if, during his 200 years of imprisonment, he’d met one? Very much inspired by this post

cw: pre-game astarion, Cazador, prostitution and non-consensual sex alluded to but never shown, healing from trauma, Astarion being sexualized, Astarion sexualizing himself, objectification, blood drinking, he’s kind of sexually aggressive in this but it's just because he’s scared and he doesn’t know anything else, reader is from a group of monster hunters that I made up who have been harassing Cazador, they are separate from any in-game monster hunters who are less Astarion friendly

Astarion x gn reader

Word count: 6k

He was charming. Pretty words, perfect hair, a dashing smile, and hollow eyes. 

The second Cazador had said the word, he was all over you. 

You couldn’t turn down the offer. Not for the promise of pleasure, that was the last thing on your mind looking at him. 

But if you got him alone you could talk to him, outside of the watchful eye of his master. 

He had you pinned to the wall of your bedroom before you could even say a word. You had to shove him back and he stumbled, a frightened, hurt look crossing his face before the practiced charm slipped easily back. 

“Oh, you like to play rough, do you? That’s fine with me, I don’t mind being pushed around a little.”

“Stop,” you pleaded with him. “Please, can I just speak for a second?”

“Say whatever you’d like, darling.”

“Listen… Astarion, wasn’t it?”

He smirked at you. “It is, but you can call me whatever you'd like.”

“Astarion, you don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I don’t. I want to. Don’t you want me?” He moved to get into your space again but you stepped back and he didn’t follow. 

You did your best to push past his flirtation. “How often does he make you do things like this?”

“Like this? Not often. My lovers don’t typically live to see the morning. Although I suppose it doesn’t make much difference to me,” he said with a laugh, one that felt practiced and put on. 

“Oh.” You couldn’t imagine it, being forced to not only be with so many people but to send them off to their deaths night after night. 

Your eyes drifted down as your thoughts spiraled and he grabbed your chin, pulling your face up so your eyes met once more, directing all your attention back to him. “Is that what’s bothering you, darling? I promise Cazador has given me very clear instructions on how well you should be treated.”

“No, that’s not the problem.” You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to figure out what to do. “God, this is such a nightmare. Listen, I can sleep on the couch, you should take the bed,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the loveseat tucked in the corner of the room.

“Come now, that’s not necessary my dear,” he practically purred at you. 

You felt a little more nauseous with every pass he made at you. “You really don’t have to do that, I swear. Not in here at least. It would probably be prudent to pretend in front of Cazador but that’s an issue for tomorrow.”

“Even if you don’t want sex,” he said with a little roll of his eyes. “The couch is not necessary. I promise I won’t bite.”

It was a bad idea. You knew that much. But the bed looked so soft and comfortable and the couch wasn’t even long enough to fit all of you if you tried to lie down. 

You sat on the bed tentatively and sunk into the mattress. It was by far the most comfortable bed you’d ever been in and you ran your hand along the silky sheets. “Alright, but we’ll just be sleeping,” you said with a pointed look in his direction. 

In a heartbeat, you were pushed back onto the mattress and he was looking over you, his hands on either side of your head as he grinned down at you. “Are you certain, my dear? I could make you feel so good.”

“I’m sure you could,” you said with a smile, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes lit up at the contact and it was clear that he thought he’d done it, that he'd won you over. “But that won’t be necessary.”

You leaned up and pressed a kiss into his forehead before gently pushing him off of you back towards his side of the bed. 

He seemed wounded and frightened by the gesture, a far cry from the practiced seduction you’ve seen from him so far. “You don’t want me.”

“I assure you that is not the problem,” you said, careful to keep your voice gentle. 

He did not seem convinced, a tragic vulnerability starting to seep through his facade.

As he stared at you, a worried look plastered across his face, you grabbed some of the many pillows from the top of the bed, placing a few between the two of you. 

He scoffed at the sight. “I don’t know what those are meant to stop. Not exactly impenetrable security against a rabid vampire.”

“They’re not for you. I have a tendency to get… grabby, in my sleep.”

He huffed, folding his arms as he finally conceded ground and laid down next to you. “Good. Maybe you’ll be more interesting than when you are awake.”

You doubted he’d find you snuggling a pillow particularly interesting but you let him interpret your words however he pleased. 

“Perhaps. Now if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to sleep now.”

“It’s not all the same to me, thank you very much.”

“Alright,” you said with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

You woke up with your arms wrapped around a pillow from your little wall, holding it close to your chest as you eased your eyes open to see Astarion unabashedly staring at you. 

He spoke as soon as he caught wind you were awake. “You weren’t kidding about being grabby, you’re practically smothering the poor thing.”

Your face warmed slightly at his words, embarrassment fluttering in your chest. “It’s an old habit. What about you, couldn’t sleep?”

“Elves don’t sleep.”

You suddenly felt incredibly foolish. “Oh. Right. So you’ve just been sitting there all night then?”

“I tranced for a while. It was certainly a more boring night than I expected.”

You yawned as you sat up, setting the pillow you’d been holding behind you. “Terribly sorry to disappoint. Hopefully, there will be many more boring nights in your future.”

He pulled back, cocking his head to the side. “What?”

You realized you hadn’t told him of your little scheme yet. “I was thinking. This whole meeting with Cazador was more of a formality than anything. He’s killed too many of our people, we need to make this deal, at least until we can figure out how to sort him out for good. But he doesn’t know that and maybe, if you’re amiable to it, I could throw in a final term to the deal. Where he has to give me… well, you. Not that you should be his to give, but I figure if I can save someone from this place and I didn’t, what kind of a monster would I be?”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me?”

You shrugged. “I’d say nothing if I thought you’d believe me. If you need to rationalize it, let’s just say it’s an ego boost. Now I get to feel like a good person and you get to leave this place. As long as I don’t mess it up too badly.”

Mistrust was written across his face and it seemed like the first completely honest emotion you’d been able to pull from him. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine, we can fix that after I get you out of here.” You sighed. “Wish me luck. I’m an awful liar.”

He trailed after you as you left, seemingly incapable of letting you out of his sight. 

Maybe he was. Maybe he’d been ordered to do so. You had no way to tell. It made your heart hurt, the sight of him here, the idea of Cazador’s other spawn that you couldn’t save. At least not yet. 

He followed you like a loyal pup all the way to Cazador, who was lounging in a chair without a care in the world. 

He chuckled at the sight of Astarion behind you. “And how was my spawn? To your satisfaction?”

You swallowed down that bile that rose in you as you said, “He was a delight. I was wondering, in the name of our agreement, is there any way I could keep him? It’s just that I’ve grown quite fond of him so very quickly.”

Cazador laughed, a putrid, callous thing. “I’m sure. He can be quite… convincing. And this would make you amenable to my terms?”

You nodded. “All the monster hunters in Baldur's Gate will focus their attention in… other places. You and yours will be entirely safe from our wrath.”

“And if we’d like to push you in the direction of another creature?”

You gave him a tactful nod. “We could be convinced.”

“Good.” He laughed once more. “Typical monster hunter. You pretend to hate us and yet you want to keep a vampire pet.”

Astarion leaned into your side and you felt a little queasy at the performance as you snaked your arm around him. “Like I said, he was very convincing.”

He sighed. “You drive a hard bargain. As you wish, you shall have your terms. Just tell me if he doesn’t behave. I can get him sorted right out for you.”

It took everything you had not to lunge at him thinking about everything he’d put this poor man through. “Of course, but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage just fine on my own.”

You got out of there as fast as you could. Even if you hadn’t had Astarion with you, you didn’t want to spend any longer than absolutely necessary with the monster. 

You pulled him through the streets back to the house you were staying in, racing against the sun. You barely had enough time to get him there and pull him inside, but you had a feeling he’d prefer this mad dash over staying another day with his master.

Regardless, the whole time your eyes were darting around, looking for places you could hide him should you need to. 

You wondered what you’d even do if it had come to that. Just sit with him for the rest of the day, you supposed, unless he wanted to try a risky maneuver with a thick blanket. 

You tried to pull him inside but it was like an invisible wall had stopped him in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look and he grumbled, “You have to invite me.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, come in!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, he rushed in beside you and you set yourself to making sure all of the widows were fully shut, pulling the curtains tight. 

He watched you dart about, tugging at the thick fabric. His gaze was judgemental but at least the emotion seemed genuine. 

As soon as you were mostly certain he wouldn’t burn to death, you turned to him. “We won’t be leaving for a while so you can make yourself at home. If you need anything just let me know, okay?”

You didn’t see him for the whole day. You were busy and he made himself scarce. You couldn’t blame him. You imagined he’d long since made it a habit to avoid being seen by anyone. Anyone except his forced prey, you supposed. But still, he hid away from them, in his own way. 

“Astarion, can you come look at this?” you called out as the sun finally dipped fully below the horizon, hoping he was close enough that he could hear you. And hoping he would come even if he did. 

It took a few minutes but eventually he came sauntering down the stairs. 

“Yes, my dear?”

You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the window, gesturing out at the carriage that was illuminated by torches alone, shrouded in the thick darkness of the night. “Do you think it’ll be alright? The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

He stared out at the carriage you’d spent hours painstakingly attempting to make impenetrable to light. You’d painted the windows black, hung blankets over top of them, shoved old linens in the cracks in the doors. 

He cautiously headed outside, staring at the carriage with furrowed brows. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah, I tested it during the day. It seemed pretty solid but obviously you couldn’t check then. I could bring a torch around the outside if you wanted to check for yourself.”

He looked at you like you were mad. “We could have just traveled at night.”

You shrugged. “It’s a two-day journey and I didn’t want to depend on inns and shelter along the road to protect you during the day. This seemed safer.”

He opened the door, sitting inside and looking around at the painstakingly covered windows and cracks, and you couldn’t tell if he seemed uncomfortable because he was worried about the sun or because of the sheer amount of effort you’d clearly put into it. 

“Do you want anything for the ride?” you asked, pushing forward. “Some books or something? I could go get them for you.” 

“Your company is all I could ask for.”

“Okay, but for real though. Never mind, I’ll just get you some books.” You doubted you’d be able to pull an honest answer from him for a very long time, if at all. 

After a frenzied book run, the two of you were ready to head off, locking yourselves inside the carriage until the sun set once more. 

The bumps of the carriage jostled the two of you as you rode. The flickering orange light of two lanterns, one for each of you, barely illuminated the darkened space and you couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. 

He was sitting, staring at you, book untouched on his lap. 

You’d brought as many options as you could think of, romance novels, epics, history, a horticultural book that had pulled a snort and an incredulous look from him when he’d seen it. 

He didn’t seem much in the mood for reading and under his unblinking gaze, neither were you. Instead, you stared at the painted-over window, wishing there was anything else you had to look at in the dim light. 

“Admiring your paint job?” he asked with a chuckle as you continued to refuse to meet his unblinking gaze. 

“Something like that.” You decided to take the broken silence as an opportunity. Anything was better than being silently stared at and you weren’t sure you’d get a better chance to ask him. “Can I ask you something that’s potentially insensitive?”

He smirked at you with that practiced allure. “Ask away.”

“Were you one of his favorites? Cazador's, I mean.”

He scoffed. “In a way. He loved torturing me more than anyone else.”

You leaned forward. “So it might be easier to convince him to part with the others?”

His eyes narrowed at you and you watched as he tried once again to figure out what your angle was. “You’ve got a real bleeding heart, don’t you?”

“We’ve been unable to hurt him for so long, failed at it for years and years. Every day you were there was because we weren’t good enough at what we did. I can’t help it, I feel a little responsible for you. For all of you.”

“Oh please,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’m not one of the monsters you hunt.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Why would you be? Who have you hurt?”

He laughed a cold, cruel laugh. “Darling, you have no idea how many people I’ve hurt.”

“You haven’t though. Cazador hurt people through you, sure. But you didn’t hurt anyone, not really. You’re a victim just as much as they were. At least we managed to save some of them.”

He squirmed in his seat. “I think they might disagree.”

You shrugged, something delicate in his eyes telling you not to push. “Maybe.”

The rest of the ride was completed in silence, not only fueled by your discomfort but now also Astarion’s irritation with you. 

Your driver gave a knock on the door as the sun disappeared, just as you’d instructed him to, and you opened it to find a quaint little inn surrounded by woods in front of you. 

He left to take care of the horses and you led Astarion inside, securing two rooms for the three of you. In a perfect world you would’ve gotten Astarion his own room, but his vampirism wasn’t exactly subtle and you couldn’t help but worry that some overzealous patron of this establishment might take it upon themself to rid the inn of the supposed monster. 

You led him up to the room you’d be sharing and as you entered, he stood in the doorway and took in the sight. 

You were quick to give him a quiet, “Come in,” but he brushed you off.

“That’s for houses, not individual rooms. I just…there’s two beds.”

You nodded. “Yup. For two people.”

He eyed you suspiciously, as if the two beds might be part of some devious scheme. After a few moments, he seemed to decide it was just a normal room and took the bed nearest the door. 

He seemed paler than he’d been the night before and a horrible thought struck you. “Oh my god, you need to eat! I haven’t been feeding you.”

He chuckled. “Good luck with that, there aren’t many disposable animals out here. At least, not ones you could catch. Unless you want to let me at the horses, but that would leave us in quite the predicament.”

“I mean, you could drink from me. Not everything, obviously, but I could spare some.”

You held out your hand to him, presenting your wrist and looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not allowed to drink human blood,” he spat back at you, the bile of hundreds of years of resentment lacing his words. “Cazador doesn’t allow it.”

“You’re not his anymore. He gave control over to me and I say you can do whatever you’d like and that you don’t take orders from anyone anymore. The offer stands.” You went to withdraw your hand until his hunger bested his hesitation but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. 

“Well,” he said with a sly smile. “As long as you’re offering, I would be a fool to turn you down.”

It was so strange how quickly it happened, how easily he could slip right back into that faux confidence. 

He leaned towards you and you backed away at the hungry look in his eyes, one you were more than familiar with. 

“If you really want to I’m sure there’s ways we could make this a more rewarding experience for you,” he said and in a heartbeat he maneuvered himself over you, his hands interlaced with yours and holding you to the mattress. 

You pulled yourself back in an instant, leaning against the headboard as you presented your wrist to him once more. 

You didn’t fault him for it. After years of surviving with it, of course he would keep trying to draw you in with his sexuality. The instinct couldn’t be snuffed out overnight.

You’d bat away his attempts as many times you needed to, try and make him understand. You weren’t sure if it would ever work, not fully, but you’d keep trying. 

“It’s easier this way,” you said in explanation, giving him something to latch onto that didn’t feel like rejection. 

He rolled his eyes. “Easier, I’m sure. Typical, I got a master who’s allergic to fun.”

“I’m not your master. You can do as you please, could leave now if you wanted.”

“And go where?” he snapped. “You can pretend if you must but I know what I am. I know where I stand. I am a lot of things, but I am no fool.”

“I know.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes daring across your face before he pulled your wrist towards him, digging his teeth into your flesh. 

The sharp pain lasted for a heartbeat before it faded away to a dull ache. He lapped at the open wound, his put-on demeanor disappearing as he got lost in it. 

He cradled your hand like it was a lifeline. In a way, you supposed it was. 

You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as he fed but you refused to stop him. You would not command it of him, would rather die than force him into it. You let out a quiet whine, your form slumping back into the bed. 

He drew away immediately and your blood began pouring onto the white sheets of the bed. 

A moment of panic reflected in his red eyes before he grabbed the corner of the sheets, wrapping them around your wound. 

“There,” he said, his voice quieter than his normal bravado. “Should keep you from bleeding out.”

Your eyes were locked on his collarbone, a dark bruise becoming visible as your blood fled through his previously starved body. The longer you looked, the more of them you could see, peeking out from under his clothes. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you said in hushed tones, hands moving to reach for him before stopping in their tracks, unsure if your touch would be wanted. 

He was otherwise preoccupied, his eyes alight with something entirely new. He looked stronger, livelier. There was a warmth to his cheeks you’d never seen before. 

You resisted the urge to touch him, to see if he’d become warmer as your blood had begun to run through him, bringing a new light to his eyes. 

“You should get some rest,” he said, looking down at you lying exhausted and drained on the bed. “You certainly need it.”

You barely had time to laugh at his comment before you’d drifted off. 

The ride back was as quiet as it had been the day before, if a little less uncomfortable. Astarion still stared for much of it but he at least pretended to read his book. The healthy flush to his cheeks seemed to come with a bit of newfound comfort and ease around you that made you puff up with pride, even if you still felt a little woozy from the night before. 

“Here we are!” you said as a knock sounded on the door, opening it and leading him inside your home. It was an old manor of your family's, not particularly big, right on the edge of nowhere, and perhaps falling apart just a little but more than suitable for your purposes. “It’s a little bit of a mess but I kind of like it that way. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

You decided to put him in a room that was just a few doors down from your own, pointing out just where he could go to find you if he needed anything. 

You laid down to sleep once you got him situated, more exhausted than you typically were at this time of night. Despite how tired you were, presumably from the blood loss, you had to fight the urge to go and check on Astarion just one more time. 

You hadn’t known him for long but you’d already developed an intensely protective instinct towards the man. 

You did your best to put him out of your mind when a knock sounded at the door. 

“Come in,” you called out. You made no attempt to suppress your smile when he peeked in the doorway. 

“I think I’ve grown accustomed to your company,” he said sheepishly, and for once it didn’t seem like he was trying to seduce you. He seemed worn down, looking just as tired as you felt, a defeated air present on his face. 

You were too tired for subtlety, opening your arm to him and muttering a sleepy, “Just come here.”

He seemed grateful to not have to explain himself. To not have to ask. 

He sat on the bed, looking down at you where you lay. 

“No pillow this time?” he asked in that snide voice he used so often. 

“I can if you want. Just thought you might appreciate the closeness.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, I’ll be your little pillow to hug. Fair warning though, I run cold.”

You tried and failed to suppress a yawn as he got into bed beside you and you wrapped your arms softly around him. “I don’t mind. G’night.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

Just like that, it became a bit of unspoken habit between the two of you. You felt it might honestly kill him to comment on it, to ask you for affection. But with no words, no pleasantries, there he was every night, beside you. 

One night, about a week into his residence in your home, he seemed more restless than normal, fiddling endlessly with your hand, incapable of sitting still. You turned to him with a pointed look. “Come on, out with it, it’s not good to go to bed with things left unsaid.”

He scoffed. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, what if I die in my sleep or something.”

“If you die in your sleep, I think I might have bigger problems than things I didn’t say to you. Namely, some monster hunters who might take issue with the vampire you died next to.”

You shook your head. “No, I already told them about you, they wouldn’t hurt you.”

That seemed to take him by surprise, pulling back a bit at your words. “You did?”

“Of course I did. Now come on, out with it, what’s going on it that head of yours?”

He sighed dramatically and flopped back on his pillow. “It’s really nothing.”

“Not if it's bothering you. I want to help.”

“Did you mean it?” he blurted out, like the words had to be forced out of him quickly or they wouldn’t come out at all. “When you said you wanted to save the rest of them too?”

“Of course I did. And I will. At least if I have anything to say about it,” you said quietly, your stomach turning at the thought of the other spawn you’d left behind.

He turned from you as if you’d slapped him. “Right. I’m going to sleep in my own room. I should’ve been in there anyway, this was silly. Goodnight, darling.”

You chased after him in a heartbeat, catching up at him before he’d even managed to open his door. “Wait, what did I do? Astarion?”

He was an unstoppable force, storming into his own room. 

“I don’t understand what I did,” you pleaded with him, desperate to fix it. You raked through your conversation, trying to dissect every word spoken, every facial expression. You found nothing. Shouldn’t he be happy you wanted to help them? It didn’t make sense to you. 

He sat on his bed, one he’d never slept in, arms crossed and brows furrowed. When he spoke, there was a faux casualty to it, like he was trying to pretend none of it mattered to him. “I’m just making room for the next stray you let into your bed.”

You sat next to him, careful to keep your distance as you moved your head down to try and catch his eye. “You know I’m not replacing you, right?”

He huffed in response, turning away from you again. 

You made sure to keep your tone gentle and soft. “You know I wouldn’t let just any vampire spawn sleep next to me, right? It’s because I care about you, it’s not just because you’re there. No one is replacing you and I promise there is enough of me to help people while also still being there for you. I will save as many of them as I can until I can rid this world of Cazador but you’re not just Cazador’s victim, you’re my friend.”

He turned to you suddenly. “Stop saying that. Stop saying you’re going to hunt down Cazador. If he catches wind of any of this you’re dead. At least, if you’re lucky you’ll be dead. And then where will I be?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I’m doing, we all know what we’re doing. He’s not going to get me.”

“That’s why you made that deal, is it? Did all the other hunters he slaughtered know what they were doing too? You aren’t a threat to him, you are a nuisance. You need to stop,” he snarled. 

You couldn’t stop. You both knew that, could see it as clear as day. 

Instead, you just said a quiet, “Come on, come to bed,” and walked out of the room. 

He trailed behind you, the unendable argument weighing heavy on the both of you, no more words spoken as he slipped under the sheets. You gave his hand a squeeze, trying your best to reassure him despite knowing it would never work. Not as long as he was still out there. 

And then, as he leaned into your space, head brushing against your arm, something he’d been getting slowly more comfortable doing, something occurred to you that should have many days ago, back when he’d first arrived here. It was strange that he was here, now. Not just because of his uncomfortability with any sort of nonsexual closeness, but because of when it was. 

Not only did elves not sleep the same way nor as long as humans did, but vampires slept during the day typically, to enjoy the night as best they could. 

“I’m going to start sleeping during the day,” you said decisively. “That way we can keep doing this,” you said as you gestured around vaguely, “and you can go out, can do things with your waking hours. I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner.”

His eyes widened. “You’d really let me leave?”

His surprise felt like a shard of ice through your chest. “Of course I would. You can do whatever you want. I’ll even do my best to help if you’ll ask me for it.” Another horrible thought struck you. “Wait, you didn’t think you could leave and you’ve been with me most nights. What have you been eating?”

“Whatever I could find. I make for wonderful pest control.”

Your heart sank. You should’ve considered this sooner, never put him through any of this. 

“Here, drink from me,” you said, sticking out your hand. “I can get some bigger animals for you, keep them here so you don’t have to hunt for them if you’d prefer, but for now I will have to do.”

He hesitated, although his gaze was less suspicious than the last time you’d done this. Instead, he looked nervous. “You’ve… you’ve already done so much for me. I shouldn’t.”

“Astarion, you’re starving,” you said quietly, trying to reason with him. 

“I’d rather not push it. Eventually, even your charity will run out.”

You shook your head. “It will not. It’s fine if you don’t believe me, I know it’ll take time, but I will keep being here for you until it sinks in. Promise.”

He laughed quietly, seeming more for himself than for you, something that had been happening more and more lately. “You underestimate my distrust, I think I could outlast you.”

You smiled back. “Challenge accepted. But until then, you need to eat.”

You held out your wrist for him, the marks from the last time just beginning to fade. He took it, gingerly, bringing it slowly to his mouth and watching your face for any apprehension. 

You showed none, instead giving him a soft smile. “Go on. I don’t bite.”

That got a real laugh out of him. “That’s not funny.”

He pressed a soft kiss into your skin before sinking his fangs in, that sharp pain coming with a flutter of warmth inside your chest. 

He was slower this time, more intentional as he drank. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he wasn’t as hungry or if it was because it felt less like his meal might be ripped away from him unceremoniously. 

He didn’t get as lost in it this time, eyes flicking up to meet yours, checking in on you. 

You didn’t even get the chance to try and tell him you were feeling woozy before he drew back, pulling a handkerchief you hadn’t even noticed off the side table to wrap around your wrist. 

“Wouldn’t want to get our sheets all bloody,” he said as he knotted it tight around your wound. 

Your hands moved slowly as soon as he released them, reaching up towards his face and giving him plenty of time to back away. 

For a moment, when he first saw you reaching for him, he pulled back and you were ready to retreat and shower him in endless apologies when, as suddenly as he’d moved away, he leaned into your touch. 

Gentle hands cradled his face, ones he’d flinched away from but a moment before. He leaned into them openly now, unabashedly, making a home between your palms. 

He was warmer like this, with your blood rushing through him. 

You pulled him closer as his head tucked right under yours, your fingers carding gently through his hair. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, barely loud enough to reach his ears, and you had no idea if he believed you. 

You doubted it, doubted that you’d been able to break through all those years of his living hell so quickly. His walls had been carefully constructed for a reason, and you understood why he was so hesitant to break them down. You couldn’t blame him, would never blame him. 

It didn’t really matter. You’d keep trying either way.

[iimplicitt]

I WAS ALL OVER HER — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part one of three

summary: childhood best friends riddled with missed opportunities. oscar makes the mistake of introducing you to his new teammate who’s known to be a player.

warnings (most take place in pt. 2 and 3): pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though.

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3 this is also my first time posting fic on here i’m usually hiding on ao3 or wattpad (same user as on here if you’re interested in harry potter!)

word count: 2.4k

dedicated to; @theonottsbxtch

enjoy, r <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A debut in Formula One was bound to have its hurdles, being full of good days and bad days. Oscar didn’t know it then, but introducing his childhood best friend to his new teammate was either the best or worst decision he had ever made.

He hadn’t thought twice about inviting you to his first race, knowing that you were a presence that always provided a sense of ease around his mind when he started to think about things too much. You never even had to do anything, just being there helped.

He hadn’t thought twice about introducing you to Lando in the paddock that first race weekend. Not particularly loving the apt attention his teammate was suddenly showing as you talked, but he tried to push it into the back of his mind. Oscar wasn’t a jealous person, at least he tried not to be. Envy got nobody anywhere. Although he couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable churn in his stomach as he watched Lando hug you goodbye, muttering a low “Nice to meet you,” and the Brits eyes lingered on you as they both watched you walk away to the Paddock club to get seated.

Oscar’s eyes cut to Lando, biting the inside of his cheek as his mind analysed the interaction he just witnessed.

As if sensing the unease next to him in the form of his teammate, Lando met his gaze and laughed lightly. “What?”

Shaking his head, Oscar turned and started the walk to the garage. “Nothing.”

That first race had been hell, not only because of the searing Texas sun but the way it had gone to absolute shite in the first lap. A retirement on lap ten hadn’t been on any of his cards, but the reality of racing isn’t always a good hand dealt. McLaren still threw a celebratory party afterward though, at some southern themed bar in Austin. You had walked in wearing a cowboy hat and boots to make him laugh. It worked, like always.

And like always he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Apparently Lando couldn’t either.

youruser

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 12,492 others

youruser howdy 🤠 save a horse, ride a cowboy

*tap to load more comments*

userone: pretty girllll <3

oscarpiastri: stole my hat

❤️ by author

usertwo: omg????? lando and oscar??

danielricciardo: i’m an honorary cowboy

| oscarpiastri: no

| userfour: WHO IS THIS GIRL

landonorris: me next?

❤️ by author

| userfive: omg???

| usersix: that is WILDDDD

userseven: new wag alert? but for who??

Oscar suffered through the rest of the races for reasons he wasn’t expecting. The amount of times he ran into the two of you hanging out or talking, it shouldn’t have annoyed him. But it did. It was all the lingering touches that made him feel nauseous. Lando’s hand on the small of your back, moving hair out of your face on a windy day, bringing you coffee in the mornings and his hand brushing yours, leaning in close to whisper in your ear over the roar of crowds and car engines– all the things Oscar wish he was doing but he never seemed to get there first.

It was always, always Lando. On and off track he couldn’t seem to keep up.

He didn’t mean to start ignoring you, but everytime he went to see you, you were with Lando. He couldn’t stomach it. Oscar always had a level head but he felt like he was slipping under unfamiliar territory of being reckless and on edge.

The morning of the last race must’ve been a boiling point. He and Lando were warming up when his teammate asked him something so dreadful, Oscar nearly dropped the weights on his chest.

“Is she single?”

Oscar slowly sat up and set down the weights, careful to not throw them at Lando’s head. “Why?”

“Why not?”

He sat there for a moment, sweat making his shirt cling to him like a second skin. His bones felt all wrong inside his body, not wanting to have this conversation. “You don’t do relationships.”

Lando shrugged, standing up and grabbing his water. “People can change their minds. So? Is she?”

Oscar shouldn’t have done it, but the lie slipped out of his mouth. “I think she’s seeing someone. I don’t know who, though.”

Lando looked at his teammate for a moment, eyes slightly narrowing and he hummed. “Noted.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You weren’t sure why Oscar was ignoring you. It felt like whiplash. He invites you to the rest of the racing season but won’t mutter anything else other than a hello. You’d spiral at night wondering if you did something wrong, but didn’t want to bombard him with texts. You knew he was busy.

So like many nights while on the road with the drivers you stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room. A ding echoed around the room, indicating a new text. Blindly reaching for it, the bright screen illuminated your face and made you squint. Not quite sure what you were reading.

Unknown number: Dinner tonight?

You: Who is this?

Unknown number: Guess

Rolling your eyes, you were about to block the number before there was a knock on the hotel door. Cautiously walking to the door, you looked through the peephole before frowning in confusion. Unlocking it, it swung open and you blinked at the surprise. “Lando?”

Smiling, he held up his phone. “You know, it’s rude to leave someone on read.”

“It’s also rude to be a stalker.”

“A stalker?”

“How’d you get my number?”

He waved you off. “Trivial information. So, dinner?”

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered, but it seemed completely out of left field. Then again, you were terrible at picking up cues. Half of the people you’ve dated, you hadn’t even known they’d liked you in the first place till Oscar mentioned it. Which was… disheartening. Everytime he started those conversations you had hoped he was about to say he had feelings for you. And every single time you were disappointed, letting yourself get to a level of delusion where you thought you may have a chance. It only got worse when he entered Formula One. The type of girls drivers dated were a whole other category of drop dead stunning. Personally, you just felt… average. Boring. Unremarkable. Not to mention had told you to your face he saw you as a little sister. It was embarrassing to admit but you still cried about it sometimes.

Lando didn’t stray from the perception you had of the drivers. He had a history of dating models. Crossing your arms, you leaned against the doorframe and narrowed your eyes at him. “Why?”

He smiled crookedly, dimples showing in his cheeks. He was handsome, you could admit that. “I like you, and I think dinner would be nice. We haven’t gotten to hang out anywhere by ourselves.”

“We’ve hung out alone a handful of times these past few weeks.” You countered, wanting to walk carefully into this situation.

He nodded in partial agreement. “Not anywhere off track, though. I want to get to know you, is that so bad?’

You gnawed at your lip, not being able to shrug off the constant companion of insecurity as you stared at your best friend's teammate. “Oscar warned me about you, you know?”

Lando stepped closer and you watched him carefully as he leaned against the other side of the doorframe. His cologne hit you then, smelling of sea salt and sandalwood. It was nice. He hummed quietly, looking at you intently. “Did he? What’d he say?”

“That you’re a player and I should keep my distance.” The words had irked you when he spoke them after you and Lando had met. It made you feel as if you had your head turned too easily. Or that if Lando did for some reason show interest, it wouldn’t mean anything.

The man so close to you gave a closed mouth smile, eyes hooded by thick lashes and the shadows of the low light hallway danced across his face almost playfully. “And what do you think?”

You properly assessed Lando Norris for the first time as he stood less than a foot from you, looking at you so intently it made your skin feel warm despite the cool temperature set on the thermostat. He looked like he wanted something. Wanted you. Your head couldn’t keep up. It felt pathetic, but when someone spends their whole life feeling undesirable, and then someone expresses that desire, it feels… abstract. Unobtainable, even though it’s being offered on a silver platter.

Warning alarms were going off inside your head, as well as butterflies you couldn’t explain. Hope, maybe. Maybe, someone wants you for once. But Lando was a wild card, the question is if you were willing to gamble on it.

“I think you’re dangerous.” You whispered.

He stepped closer, nearly touching you but not quite. “Let’s have dinner.”

You became acutely aware your hair was still damp from a shower and you were in your pajamas. “It would take me a while to get ready.”

He shrugged and looked into your hotel room, “we can have dinner here. Room service on me.”

Narrowing your eyes again, you looked at him carefully. “This isn’t a ploy to get into my pants is it?”

Lando laughed lightly, looking down at you but it wasn’t taunting. It felt light hearted and sincere. “No, though if you do end up offering I’m not going to tell you no. In fact, if you do offer I might forget every word except for yes and your name.”

You were definitely blushing, and goddammit you were also charmed for some reason. Clearing your throat, you stepped back into your room and eyed him for one more debating moment before deciding to hell with it. Oscar clearly didn’t want you, and you were tired spending years and years waiting for him to. Why not give someone else a chance?

“Yes, we can have dinner.”

Lando winked at you as he stepped into your room, shutting the door softly behind him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Winter break before the 2024 season was in full swing, but before everyone departed home, Zak was hosting a Christmas party at his house he had in Woking. Oscar was nervous as he walked to your hotel room, feeling more anxious than he did even before races. He was going to ask you to go with him, but also finally (hopefully) telling you everything. About how he felt, about how he felt bad for being distant and he just didn’t know how to juggle everything at once. How he finally felt like he was in a good place to make it work with you. Of course he’s always thought about it, but the fear of ruining your friendship always weighed heavy on his heart. He wanted you in his life no matter what, and he was terrified of scaring you off or waiting too long.

Knocking on your door, he rocked back on his heels, being able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. After a moment, it swung open.

So he didn’t chicken out, Oscar immediately let the question slip from his mouth. “Will you go to the Christmas party with me?”

You blinked at him, looking as if you were taken off guard. You opened your mouth to respond, but more words kept tumbling out of his mouth as if he was coughing up poison that had been in his body for far too long. The thoughts and feelings wanting out after all these years.

“I know I should’ve asked you sooner, but I was just nervous. I’ve had a lot going on both with work and just in my head but I think I’m finally in a good place for this. I know it didn’t end up working out in our favour the first time a few years ago, but–”

“Oscar.”

“I think I’m ready. I’m sorry it took so long and I’m so thankful you’ve stuck by my side and supported me. I always think about that night and the what if’s but–”

“Oscar, please–”

“But I think it’s good we waited and that we’re finally ready to do this. Together. And I didn’t want to wait anymore–”

“Oscar, stop.”

He properly looked at you and noticed your eyes were red and glistening. His heart started to stutter a bit. “What?”

You bit into your bottom lip and looked away from him for a moment before meeting his eye again. “Why would you tell me all this now?”

Oscar’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You shut your eyes, as if in mental torment over something. “Lando asked me.”

His heart faltered even further. “To the party?”

You sighed, a tear slipping from your eye but you quickly scraped it away with your thumb.

“Baby, have you seen where the keys are?” A voice called from somewhere in the room behind you. A familiar voice, and Oscar’s heart stopped working all at once.

Oscar’s eyes didn’t stray from yours, though. Even as they began to burn and he wanted to rip them out of his head, he didn’t stop looking at you. Is this why he hadn’t seen much of either of you towards the end of the season? Were you running off and– God, he felt like he was going to puke. “How long?” He forced out, his voice cracking.

You sucked in a shaky breath, replying to Lando first. “They might be in the bathroom.” You took another moment before finally answering Oscar. “A few weeks.”

Clenching his jaw, Oscar nodded as he looked down at the ground. “I thought I told you he was bad news.”

“I’m not five, I can make my own decisions.” You snapped.

Despite knowing better, Oscar’s eyes narrowed at you. “So you go and fool around with my teammate behind my back as some weird… what is this, revenge?”

Your jaw went slack as you stared at him. “You did not just say that to me, oh my god. Who do you think I am? Just because you said no to me doesn’t mean I use your friends against you, that is– Jesus, Oscar.”

“Then why hide that from me!”

“Because I knew you’d act like this! You always act like this when I get into a relationship!”

He glared at you. “And why do you think that is?”

You stepped back from him as if he’d just slapped you. “No. Oscar, no. We are not doing this. Not now. Not ever.”

He couldn’t help it. Of all people, of course it would be Lando who swoops in. Of course he was too late, again. Always ten steps behind his teammate. “I don’t understand, I thought we were on the same page.”

“You told me to my face, point blank, that you didn’t see me that way.”

“I panicked! Of course I feel the same way, I always have. I was just terrified of messing it up and I wasn’t in a place to drag you through a relationship when I knew I couldn’t be there for you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that!”

“Is everything okay?” Lando walked up behind you and Oscar felt the unfamiliar urge to punch him. He’d never wanted to hit anyone before, but he was dangerously close to losing his temper.

“We’re fine-”

“He was just leaving-”

Lando looked between Oscar and you before settling a hand on your hip. “You alright?”

You nodded, smiling tightly and Oscar felt like killing himself as he stared at the hand on your hip. Wondering where else Lando’s hands had been.

“Give us a moment.” You said. Lando nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and eyeing Oscar with a strange sense of… he couldn’t place it. It almost felt like Lando was bragging.

You stepped into the hall and shut the door behind you.

“You can’t seriously be with him.” Oscar said, his tone desperate as the world was being yanked from underneath him.

“Oscar, will you please just stop?” Another tear slipped out and on instinct, he reached out and wiped it away for you, feeling your soft skin and hating that Lando knew what it was like to be touched by you. “All this time. I told you how I felt years ago and you said you didn’t see me like that. And you do this now. And with it being your teammate? I- no. Just, stop it.”

“I was in a bad place when you first asked me, but please-“

“Oscar you can’t do this now-“

“Why do you think he’d even be interested in you?”

You froze.

He did too, he didn’t mean it like that. Lando doesn’t do relationships, and he had a sick feeling this was some twisted game to him. Something to hold over Oscar’s head. “I’m sorry-“

“Oscar, you’re being mean.”

“I didn’t-“

“Is this just because Lando took something else from you? What, just because you’re the second driver you try and-“

“Second driver? Really?” He hated you thought of him like that.

You briefly closed your eyes. “Oscar you have never-“

“I thought you knew!”

“Thought I knew what! You told me you didn’t and you barely even talk to me anymore. I’m not–” you laughed and looked away from him. “We’re not doing this. Go home, Oscar.” You shut the door, leaving him alone in the hallway with a caved out and hollow chest.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by youruser, carlossainz55, charlesleclerc and 604,392 others

landonorris good weather, good company

*tap to load more comments*

userone: HE TAGGED YOURUSER OMGGG

usertwo: was NOT expecting this hard launch

youruser: <3

❤️ by author

| userthree: SHUT UPPP CONFIRMED

userfour: anyone notice oscar didn’t like it?

| userfive: aren’t oscar and the girl childhood friends too?

| usersix: not to be that person but tea

landonorris

liked by youruser, carlossainz55, f1 and 3,149,293 others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

*tap to load more comments*

georgerussel63: congrats mate!!

youruser: so proud

❤️ by author

| userone: your kiss after the race was so cute!!

usertwo: oscar didn’t like this either? weird.

| userthree: did you see him on tv? was glaring at lando the whole time

| userfive: yeah, something feels weird

userfour: LETS GOOOO

part two here

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 29 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing. i hope you all enjoy chan's POV!

[ read chapter 28 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Of Storms

Everything has become convoluted.

These last couple weeks I’ve had this recurring dream where I’m trying to swim my way out of a whirlpool, and no matter how hard I fight against the opposing currents, I keep getting dragged back in. I often wonder if the dream will stop if I just give up and succumb to the deep, dark abyss at the whirlpool’s center.

It’s funny how the psyche works. In my fucked-up way of thinking, I convinced myself that every cruel thing I say to you will help me get over you. That if I push you away enough, you will stop consuming my thoughts every waking moment.

But it’s not working. Nothing is helping.

Our tumultuous situation is running rampant through my head, even when I’m sleeping. I can’t escape you.

I crave you, y/n.

Every part of you: mind, body and soul.

And yet, I can’t act on it. So, I resort to old tactics. I don’t know how you’re putting up with me. I don’t deserve your patience, and apparently, you’ve come to that conclusion as well.

It takes some time for Lee Know to break and reveal what the two of you were talking about in the backyard, but he finally does. What he says makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Life isn’t a game…I know that. But I can’t help feeling like I’ve lost.

I am fuming. I am livid.

Not with you. With myself.

“When?” I ask him, jaw clenched as I try to maintain my composure.

“On the 17th…this coming Sunday.”

My chest tightens, hearing that—not even the full two-week notice. Are you that anxious to get out of here? To get away from me?

I can’t blame you.

I leave Lee Know behind without saying a word. I have no plan in mind as I grab the key fob and hop in the car. I don’t know what I’ll say, I don’t know what I’ll do. All I know is I have to find you. I have to talk to you.

As I drive to campus, every single moment that I’ve been an asshole to you plays out in my mind. I pushed you to the limit with my behavior.

I know I fucked up. I knew I was fucking up, while I was fucking up. And I felt helpless to stop it, selfishly unable to see any alternatives.

I silently curse my ego and hubris as I drive—they’ve both been shot to hell with this revelation.

I’ve been fighting so hard to escape this metaphorical whirlpool of emotions, that I never paused to consider what lies on the outside of it, and what’s at the center. Thinking about it now, perhaps I assumed I could fight my way back to my old self if I resisted. But then that means I’m running away from you. If I just let myself relax and let the emotions take their course…then maybe I could find you once it swallows me whole.

But how do I give in? How do I let go?

I park the car outside of the building where your class is and stand in front of it, waiting for you to exit. I still have no clue what to say or do.

When you finally emerge, the nauseous feeling returns. You falter, when you spot me…are you going to leave me right this instant?

Please don’t.

I don’t know if you can read my fucking mind, but you continue towards me.

“Chan, I was gonna tell—” you start to say.

“Get in the car,” I cut you off.

Even now, with all this shit transpiring right in front of me, I don’t know how to act. I don’t know how to treat you.

If you’re not everything to me—what are you?

“Put your seatbelt on,” I all but bark at you as I back out of the parking space.

I may not know what you are to me, but your safety is and always will be paramount.

The silence in the car is almost deafening. How does one start what could be the most important conversation of their life?

I drive aimlessly for a little while before taking us to Rosewood Park. We exit the car, still in silence. You follow behind me, dutifully, and you have no idea how much I want to just turn around, fall to my knees and hug you to me.

I can’t bring myself to do it, though. You must hate me. How could you not?

We finally make it to my quiet place and sit on the bench. Do you remember when I first brought you here? You were a different person then…but I was not. Clearly.

“I will have this talk with you, Chan…but only if you are going to be fair to me. You’re not the only one that’s hurt—you’re not the only one that’s scared shitless right now.”

Fuck.

As much as I love when you’re submissive, I’ve discovered that I love when you hold me accountable for my behavior even more.

You remind me what’s at stake if I can’t pull myself together.

“Why wouldn’t you come talk to me first?” I ask.

“Because we’ve done so well with talking recently?”

Another well deserved jab, but I take it in stride this time, willing myself to hear you out instead of being on the defensive as we continue talking.

“I know. I fucked this all up,” I rub at my face as if it’ll wake me from this nightmare. “I don’t know how to be. After saying all that shit to you, I’m just supposed to act like I’m happy that you don’t want me as more than the guy you’re contracted to?”

You shake your head softly in disagreement.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. I swear I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. It’s just the truth of this unfortunate situation we’re in—I can’t have you. You can’t keep me.”

As happy as it makes me to hear that, it also feels unbearably painful.

“I know how much you love your family,” you continue, “especially your sister and brother. I’d be selfishly taking you away from them if I let you choose me.”

Admittedly, I’ve been so wrapped up in the thought of losing you that I didn’t truly consider how all of this would play out in the long run. Hannah. Lucas. My family.

You’re not the type of partner my parents would have chosen for me and we’d be breaking all kinds of rules by being together, but I feel delusional enough about you to believe that we’d get through it. Isn’t that supposed to be enough?

“And your future. Everything you’ve worked so hard for would be thrown out the window.”

I sit up straight at that and turn to face you, preparing to give you the truth that I’ve been struggling against for months. 

“That’s the thing, y/n. I haven’t pictured a future that doesn’t have you in it, since the moment you stepped foot in our house.”

That sets me off on a tangent. I stand up, pacing and blabbering in front of you. Pleading with you to see this from my point of view—to see that this could work.

You don’t agree though. You see a different future for myself than I do. Married? With little ones running around? I can’t imagine it. Not with anyone but you.

I keep my eyes trained on the grass, digging my shoe into the dirt—anything to keep from having to look at you.

I’ve never experienced pain like this.

You take my hand and pull me towards you. I crumble at your touch, feeling my eyes begin to water as I fall to my knees, practically bowing in front of you, silently asking your forgiveness. But I know I don’t deserve it.

“Look at me,” you plead one final time.

“For what?” I ask, dejected. “To feel my heart shatter even more?”

I’m fucking crying, y/n.

I feel shy. I feel embarrassed. I feel weak.

All the emotions I’ve been trying to swim away from are taking their toll and I can’t keep my head above water anymore.  

“Chan, I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I’m doing this because I love—”

“Don’t,” I cut you off again. “Don’t fucking say it. Please.”

I can’t hear you say those words.

And then, your hands are on my neck, bringing my face to yours and our lips collide. I feel everything you have been trying to convey to me as we kiss, and I hope my message is coming across too.

I need you.

I want you.

I’m sorry.

I’ll miss you.

On the ride home, I keep the music off the entire way again. The only sound filling the car is that of raindrops and the windshield wipers occasionally doing their job. Our conversation went about as good as it could have, I guess. There was no convincing you to change your mind, there was no taking any of my unjust actions back. The only thing I could do was set aside my detrimental ego and level with you.

I should have done that all along.

When we make it back to the house, I park in the driveway and turn off the engine. Neither of us make a move to exit. You absentmindedly play with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweatshirt, and I have the urge to reach over and take your hand in mine. But, I don’t know how you’ll react. Am I allowed to touch you? Was that kiss our last?

“How do we get through this week?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” I shake my head before part of my fears come spilling out, “every part of me wants to pull you onto my lap and fuck you right here. If you’re leaving and I’m never gonna get to see you again, I feel the urge to be gluttonous. To claim you every hour of every day before you leave.”

You turn to look at me, eyes wide.

“But,” I continue, “that behavior is what led to this. I will respect your decision, and I’ll give you your space. I have to learn to live without you anyway, right?”

I attempt a small chuckle and smile at the last part, but there is no amusement in my eyes.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” I answer quickly. “I’m upset and disappointed with myself more than anything.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know it wasn’t,” I agree. “I just wish I could go back and change things, that’s all. I don’t know what I expected to happen after treating you that way again. I was trying to protect my own feelings and, in the process, only wound up hurting yours worse than ever. I pushed you to the edge. I took you for granted. I caused this.”

You sigh, close your eyes and lean back into the seat.

If only I’d had this mental clarity two weeks ago, maybe this could have been avoided, right? I’m thinking the same thing. Technically, though, it would have only been delayed. You would still have to leave me at some point. But, perhaps, it could have gone a little smoother.

“We should head inside before it starts pouring,” I eventually say.

“Okay,” you respond quietly.

I don’t want to leave this car. After our talk, walking back into the house means the end is really coming.

You text me when dinner is ready. I’m not hungry, though. I choose, instead, to sit at my desk, unable to stop staring at your name in my phone. Knowing I’ll have to delete it soon is killing me.

I shower, then lay in bed, wondering how to make the most of the few days we have left. The thought of you spending your last nights with Hyunjin makes me feel unnecessarily sad. You’ll miss him, too, I know that. But I want you here with me.

It’s still raining, now accompanied by soft rolls of thunder and brief flashes of lightning when the door to my room suddenly opens and I watch as you walk in. You’ve already showered. In the girl’s bathroom. Another painful reminder of how much I destroyed our routine. I would have liked to see you shower in here.

Not just for the simple fact of seeing you naked, however I can’t deny that would have been an added bonus. I wanna watch you wash yourself up and be there to help reach the spot in the middle of your back you always struggle to get. I wanna see you wash your hair one last time…watch the way you squeeze your eyes shut as soon as you start applying shampoo and refuse to open them until you rinse it out for fear of anything slipping inside.

You shuffle across the floor quietly and quickly get under the blankets of your own bed.

Was I naïve to think you’d come lay with me after our talk?

I said I’d give you your space though…but do you really want it? Can I truly accept that?

I lay there, wide awake, thinking of all the things I still want to say to you.

It takes a while for me to work up the courage to get out of my bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor, there’s no turning back. Once again, I will risk being rejected by you.

I walk to your bed—you’re facing the wall, but I can tell you’re not sleeping.

“I know you’re awake,” I say.

You turn around to face me. I reach one hand forward to move your blanket aside and you let me. The sound of my erratically thumping pulse fills my ears.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” I ask.

“Yes,” you reply immediately.

If it weren’t for my rib cage to protect it, I think my heart could burst out of my chest.

I bend down and scoop you up into my arms. You wrap your hands around my neck, hugging yourself to my bare chest. I carry you with trained ease and lay you down on my bed. You slide over, giving me room to get in, too, then cover us with the blanket.

We both lay on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. I can feel how tense you are next to me.

You don’t know what to expect. Are you afraid? It pains me to know I’ve caused this reaction. And yet, you’re still here…for now.

“Relax,” I say gently.

And you do.

I turn onto my side, then slip one hand beneath your neck and the other around your waist to pull you to me. You nestle your face in the crook of my neck and everything instantly quiets.

This is right.

You and me.

I know it.

I feel it.

But I’ve done so much to ruin it.

“I’m so fucking sorry, y/n,” I say softly against the top of your head.

“Me too,” you reply.

I squeeze you tighter—what could you possibly be sorry for?

I say nothing in response. I just hold you against me until you fall asleep in my arms. For the first time in weeks, I don’t dream of whirlpools.  

A loud, rumbling beat of thunder sounds off sometime during the night and I feel you jolt awake. I startle, too, and peek an eye open.

“You’re okay,” I soothe you as the rumbling dies down.

I change positions, laying on my back, and bring you with me. You cuddle up to my side and hook a leg across my body. I rest a hand on your thigh, and I can’t help it, but my hips instinctively push up towards it. I keep still after that, though. I just want you here next to me. Nothing else.

We both lay still for a while, but I can tell you’re not sleeping.

You readjust your leg, hiking your knee up higher and causing the side of your calf to graze across my cock. It twitches in response, and I grip your thigh to keep you still, letting out a sleepy grunt.

You move your leg again—with intent, it seems—and my cock begins to stir.

Damn him.

I am now the one left feeling stiff and immobile as you move down on the bed, lowering your head towards my abdomen. You pull at the waistband of my boxers, and I grab your hand to stop you.

“What are you doing?” I mumble.

“Shhh,” you reply. “Lift your hips.”

My girl. You must want to have me committed to a psychiatric institution.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” I prop myself up on my elbows.

This was not my intention. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.

“I want you,” you say, tugging at my boxers again.

When I don’t budge, you place your hand on top of my hardening clock, stroking me along the outside of the fabric.

“I want to suck your cock, Chan. And then I want you to fuck me.”

“Shit, y/n,” I exhale.

My body reacts of its own accord, cock stretching to its full potential.

Do you see what you do to me?

“Up,” you demand.

I raise my hips and you push my boxers the rest of the way down. You waste no time before greedily taking my cock into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. I groan as you slide your tongue back and forth along my length, your hand squeezing firmly at the base. I place a hand in your hair, gripping it as I guide your mouth up and down on my cock.

“Ohhh fuuuck,” I exhale.

Is it possible that I’m dreaming?

I must be, because I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.

My hand leaves the back of your head to push the blankets away, freeing both of us. You move your body until you’re settled between my legs, not taking my cock out of your mouth in the process. You continue stroking me as your mouth focuses on sucking, licking, and teasing the tip.

I fucking love you, y/n.

I can’t say it out loud, but I do.

“Come here,” I say as I grab your arms, trying to pull you up towards me. “Let me fuck you now.”

You suck hard on the tip as you withdraw your mouth from my cock, causing a loud popping sound that drives me insane.

Every little thing you do to me, makes sex feel like nothing I’ve experienced before. Every single time. It never gets old. Because it’s you.

“No,” you reply, “not yet.”

You pucker your lips and lightly smack my cock against it, eliciting a moan from me. You spit on my cock, like the good girl I’ve taught you to be, and use it to help guide your hand up and down as you lower your mouth to my balls. You take one in your mouth, sucking it in softly, swirling your tongue around it.

“Oh my fucking god.”

You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?

As far as revenge goes…there are worse things one could do.

And as far as death goes…there are far worse ways to go out.

You chuckle in response as you take the other into your mouth, still stroking my cock with your hand.

“I need to fuck you,” I plead, my legs on either side of you moving involuntarily as I cannot seem to control myself. “Can I fuck you?”

I don’t think I’ve ever asked that before.

You free your mouth and sit up, still stroking my cock.

“I don’t know…” you tease. “Can you?”

I laugh at that.

A call back to my stint as Professor Bang. How could either of us forget it? There are so many things we’ve done to and with each other, and I’m sure I could have come up with more if given the time.

You place your hand on my chest to keep me in place while you straddle my waist, resting on your knees. Still gripping my cock, you position yourself above it and rub it against your slit.

Lightning flashes, soon followed by another roll of thunder. I hardly pay attention to it. I can’t think of anything besides the fact that you’re teasing yourself with my cock, spreading your slick around. It feels amazing. I could come right now.

You finally lower yourself onto my cock, fully taking me inside and we both let out a sigh.

I was genuinely worried we might not experience this again. There are other pressing matters at hand, of course, but our physical connection feels like it trumps all else sometimes.

You take a moment as your body accommodates me being inside of you, then you start to rock your hips back and forth against me.

“On your feet,” I say, placing my hands on your hips to hold you steady.

You readjust yourself, plant your feet firmly on the mattress and then remove your shirt.

A sight I’ll never tire of seeing.

I start to lift you up and down on my cock as you toss your head back, reveling in the feeling and sound of our bodies coming together.

“You fuck me so good, y/n,” I praise you.

I haven’t done that enough.

You squeeze your breasts in each hand, tugging at your nipples as you start to bounce up and down. Never one to just sit back, though, I thrust my hips upwards to meet yours, hands still gripping your hips tightly.

“Hold on to me,” I say suddenly.

You place your hands on my chest, then slide them up to my shoulders and intertwine them behind my neck. I flip you over in one swift motion, keeping my cock buried inside of you. Your legs are clasped behind my back as I continue thrusting into you without missing a beat.

“Kiss me,” you demand.

It’s not a request.

I oblige, willingly. I lower my head to yours and find your mouth in the darkness. You part your lips and slide your tongue against mine as I keep fucking you. I can taste myself, in every part of your mouth. I could lose it right now, just thinking about that.

“How am I supposed to live without this?” I break the kiss to ask, slowing down the pace of my thrusts and gripping your breast with one hand. “Huh?”

You bring my mouth back to yours to kiss me again. I allow it for a moment before pulling away once more.

“You’re incredible,” I continue. “I want this. I want you.”

“I know,” you moan, “me too, Chan.”

You stroke the side of my face and I turn my head towards your hand, rubbing my cheek against it before kissing your palm.

My head drops to your shoulder as I grunt, picking up the pace of my thrusts. I attempt to move my hand between your legs, seeking out your clit, but you stop me.

“Just you,” you say breathlessly. “I want you to come inside me.”

How could I not have fallen in love with you?

You’re everything I’ve ever desired, and then some.

“Is that what you really want?” I ask.

“Yes. Always.” you declare.

Always?

I moan at that, wishing it could be true. I straighten my back and grip your thighs as I pummel my hips into you, grunting and groaning until I come.

You pull me down on top of you and I roll us over so we’re both laying on our side. Back into the same position we started in earlier tonight.

“There’s so much I wanted to do with you—to do to you, still,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“We have a little time,” you try to sound reassuring.

Days. We have literal days.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” I sigh, gripping your hip to bring you closer to me.

“It’s for the best.”

I may be mistaken, but it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of it, too.

“I don’t see how,” I reply.

“We have to accept it. That’s the only way we’ll get through this and move on.”

“I don’t want to,” I mumble, nestling my face in the crook of your neck this time, inhaling your scent.

You rub the back of my head, but don’t respond.

There’s nothing else that can be said on that topic. We do have to accept. Well, I have to accept it.

I’m just not sure that I can. If there’s a way around all of this, I’m going to find it.

Whirlpool be damned. I will surrender to the current. I will surrender to you.

[ read chapter 30 here ]

a/n: our little wounded wolf 🥹 three more chapters left!

[mirohlayo]

Your writing is so beautiful and amazing! I reread it everyday and spend hours smiling! May I please make a request for either Charles Leclerc or whoever you want! Can it be getting married but it is a planned elopement (no guests, just the two of you)? I am very shy and the thought of getting married in front of a crowd makes me want to cry from fear. Please and thank you!

First of all it's you who's gonna make me cry like omgg love youu so much it's so sweet 🥹💕 I took a little time (I'm genuinely sorry), but here it is! I'm not the best at writing about weddings but I tried my best. Hope you are going to like it !!

"I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH TOO, CHARLES"

( what if running away from your marriage was ultimately the best idea? )

warning : mentions of stress/anxiety, fear of crowd, all fluffly

note : i wrote this in like 45min so it's not the best thing i've written. i also used some french words but it's just affectionate surnames.

word count : 1.3k

It was finally the big day. This day that you were waiting for so much, this day that made you smile in an absolutely exceptional way. It was the promise of a new chapter, of the exchange of your heart with that of your soul mate. It was the promise that you were going to spend the rest of your days with the one who makes your heart beat a little harder every day.

Everything was planned. Absolutely everything. The ceremony, the vows exchanged, the alliances, the witnesses and therefore of course the guests. However, although the guests were all intended to participate in your wedding ceremony, you were not of the same mind about sharing this moment so important and precious to you with a crowd.

You weren't the most comfortable with people. Being very shy and reserved, the simple idea of having to present yourself hand in hand with your partner in front of all these people made you nauseous, and you also found yourself holding back a few tears of anxiety and stress from rolling down your cheeks. , when your maid of honor was doing your makeup.

Charles knew this very well. He was aware that his fiancée, and soon to be his wife, had problems with crowds and feeling comfortable in front of so many people. And for him, there was no question of this magnificent and wonderful moment being ruined by the fear that the looks of others provoke in you.

He wanted everything to be perfect. May you feel comfortable, happy and filled with happiness and love. It was his role, and it always will be, he would do anything just for you.

So, while all the guests had gathered in front of the aisle that you were going to go down in a few seconds, while all these witnesses were exchanging laughter, secret conversations, Charles approached you, hidden behind a magnificent and large tree .

His eyes softened at the sight of you, and his hand gently caressed your cheek. “It’s time, mon amour.” Your eyes were bright, because a few tears of joy were already threatening to fall on your face. You nodded quickly while smiling, your heart at peace. "You're just...perfect. You look so beautiful in that dress. I'm the luckiest man alive." He added, your beauty never ceased to give him the impression of admiring a divine being.

“But where have the bride and groom gone??” A voice louder than the others came to tear through the incessant conversations of the guests, giving way to panic because you were not present to walk down the aisle. People were panting, panicked by your absence. Everyone seemed to be looking for you everywhere, and footsteps were getting closer to the tree.

Charles’ eyes widened as a wave of stress suddenly hit you. Your future husband noticed this, and his eyes were terrified that you would feel bad and anxious during this day. Then he intertwined his hand in yours, and just this gesture soothed the irregular beating of your heart. "It's okay, mon coeur. I've got you, don't worry. Breathe with me."

He took a deep breath and encouraged you to do the same. The air that infiltrated your lungs made you more peaceful. A fairly close sound of a leaf suddenly came to tickle your ears. And without you having time to react, Charles dragged you with him, hand in hand, far from all these people.

“W-wait Charles!!” His hand in yours pulled you towards him as he ran, under the cherry blossom petals that were falling again. And it's as if time seemed to stand still, during that moment. As the sun's rays came to rock your faces, a big smile appeared on your lips as you continued to run to keep up with your fiancé.

Guests would run up to the tree to catch up with you. But it was already too late. All they could see was the magnificent scene unfolding before their eyes. As the gentle breeze caressed their hair, they saw in the distance two young engaged couples madly in love with each other, escaping their wedding ceremony, hand in hand, a huge smile on Charles' face as 'they heard the sweetness of your laughter.

They looked like two children, but two children who were simply happy and completely in love.

You couldn't help but feel light. Light and free. You were running away from your own wedding ceremony with your lover and it seemed so unreal that you felt like you were living in a romantic movie. But the look that Charles gave you during this flight warmed your heart. Because you could see tears forming there, and quite simply all the love he has for you. So you too could no longer.

You couldn't hold back those tears of happiness anymore, as they fell freely down your face.

-

“It suits you so well, mon amour” Charles brushed against your fingers, where his engagement ring was on. This ring was simply sublime. It highlighted you, just like Charles's.

Sitting next to your husband, your head resting on his shoulders, you enjoyed the sunset and the breeze that made you shiver. You still had your wedding outfits on, and you really looked like two crazy people who had escaped an arranged and predestined marriage. However, it was the opposite. It was the romantic elopement of two people who wanted to do as they pleased.

Still, you couldn't help but be torn. What if your husband wanted a real, traditional wedding ceremony, celebrated with all the guests? You sighed deeply and Charles noticed it. He looked at you questioningly, and you lowered your head, somewhat ashamed.

"I'm sorry. We eloped from our wedding and it's just... maybe you would have preferred that we didn't elope and had a traditional wedding. With all the witnesses and guests." Some tears threatened to flow down your cheeks again. Not because of your words. But by the gentleness with which Charles entwined his hand in yours, and gently lifted your chin so that he could admire you.

All his gestures were fluid and full of love. Just like his gaze, which admired you in an absolutely exceptional way. As if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world. "Don't apologize, y/n. I'm so happy, you have no idea how much. So happy to have run away to your side, to have left this wedding ceremony behind us." He blinked away the few tears on your pink cheeks. "I just want you to be happy. To see you smile, to laugh. And you did it today, thanks to this escape. I'm so happy that we ran like two idiots, and especially to have given you this ring on my finger. If I had the chance, I wouldn't change this day in any way, because it was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. The most beautiful day of my life."

You nodded rigorously, a big smile plastered on your face. Your heart melted at his words. "I'm finally going to be able to spend the rest of my life by your side, and you have no idea how much I can't wait. I love you deeply and sincerely, my heart. I love you so much."

“I love you very much too, Charles” You happily said.

This beautiful day, this beautiful wedding ended with Charles kissing you as if it was the last one he had the right to do, as if nothing mattered anymore. His lips desperately sought yours, as this kiss sealed the promise of a bright future filled with love and hope. A future where Charles will end up living his life by your side, and a future where you will remember this incredible memory of your marriage union.