#no truer words have been said before

[ringosmistress]

[saintobio]

RIDE OR DIE .ᐟ

in a world where horsepower meets heartstrings, and bookstore meet-cutes lead to motorcycle mishaps, you soon realize that opposites do attract in ways that blur the line between fiction and reality.

▞▞ PAIRINGS. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ GENRE. fluff, smut, established relationship, biker boy x book girl au, 18+

▞▞ TAGS. biker!kuna, backpack!reader, profanity, reckless driving, mentions of violence (not to reader), bruises, police, fellatio, cunnilingus, protected, explicit smut, sukuna being a cute bf

▞▞ NOTES. 8.3k word count. my biker!kuna fics are unstoppable atp 😮‍💨 and as an irl writer gf to a biker bf, this is a very self-indulgent fic. got lazy with the smut so i copied bits from my other gojo oneshot. reblogs are highly appreciated <3

▞▞ INSPOS. my fav biker boys on biketok: that10r, dylan.r.one, raven.coop, onyx_r7, senor_torque, blacchornets, aushendrivessafe, tiiidddooo, bongo & takaro 🖤🏍️💨

After dating you for six months, Sukuna realized that nothing in the world could capture your attention like your cherished collection of fictional books—except, of course, him. But before he entered the picture, you were always immersed in solitary bliss at the cafe or library, lost in the intricate worlds of your latest literary fascination to the point where it was almost impossible to pull you out of it. 

Yet, it became an unspoken understanding between you both; he respected your need for uninterrupted reading time, allowing you to lose yourself in stories populated by your favorite characters, while in return, you supported his desire for a thrilling experience of riding his bike despite the inherent risks that came with it. 

He vividly remembered the first time he saw you while riding his bike through the city. You were crossing the street then, carrying a bag of books you had just bought from Barnes & Noble, and the sight of you in a cute sundress had him completely distracted from the road. So in an attempt to catch your attention, he revved his bike to ‘flex’. But in his effort to impress, he missed the red light and had to brake abruptly, causing him to lose control and drop his bike to the ground. 

That was the very first time he had ever dropped his precious R1 after a year of riding it. If it had been his old R7, he wouldn’t have cared as much, but his R1—his expensive, still-on-the-loan, matte black, fully customized R1—hit the pavement along with him. For bikers, these kinds of things hurt.

Now, talk about embarrassing. You even stopped to look at him in concern that day and if only you could see his blushing face behind his helmet. But at least, looking back at your meet-cute, he could tell you that he did, in fact, fall for you. Literally.

And there can’t be anything truer than that.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Choso remarked, gesturing his chin towards you with a teasing grin as they dismounted their bikes at the parking lot. You were there sitting in a cafe with a book on your lap, unaware that you were being conversed about by these two men right outside.

Sukuna jabbed him on the side and motioned for him to stop staring. “Fuck off. She’s mine.”

As Choso lifted his helmet, a group of girls outside the cafe couldn’t help but swoon over the two bikers, whispering and commenting on how hot and attractive they looked. And being the fucker that he was, completely absorbed in the attention from the girls, Choso had momentarily forgotten about Sukuna as he swaggered towards them with a confident smirk, glancing back at his friend and playfully raising his eyebrows.

“You go ahead. I’ll go check out the scenery,” Choso said in his usual mischief, “Unless you want to join me?”

Sukuna, still sporting his helmet, smugly showed him a picture of you as his phone’s home screen. “Sorry, already got my hands full with my princess.”

“Whatever. Tell Y/N I said hi,” Choso replied with a chuckle, before turning his attention back to the admiring group of girls.

You sat in your customary corner of the cafe, near the window, with a barely touched cup of coffee before you. Your attention was still and all riveted to the pages of your current book, remaining oblivious to the world around you as it looked like you were just getting to the good part of the storyline. Sukuna decided it would be a charming surprise to approach you as he entered the cafe, his arrival catching the eye of another group of girls who noticed him immediately, but he ignored their glances when he made his way towards your small area.

In his usual black leather jacket, Sukuna pulled a chair backward and straddled it, casually resting his arms on the backrest. With both legs on either side, he settled in, observing you intently behind his black helmet. A faint smirk played on his lips as he quietly watched you absorbed in your reading, and for now, he said nothing and enjoyed the moment silently.

He gave it a minute or so for you to realize. 

5… 4… 3… 2… “L-Lovey?” By the time you finally noticed his presence, you saw your widened eyes at his reflective visor when you looked up at him. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Sukuna pushed the button to lift his visor, revealing his narrow eyes that were locked onto yours. He had that boyish grin sitting handsomely on his lips.

As for you, you looked like you were blushing. That, or perhaps there was some sort of fluttering happening inside your heart at the unexpected sight of him. It was probably taking you a moment to separate fiction from reality, because not long ago, you were too fixated on the fictional boy written on the pages of your book. Now, your very real and actual boyfriend was here. For you. “Um… How long have you been there?”

“Not that long,” he assured in his usual low, velvet voice. “I just arrived, actually. Didn’t wanna disturb my baby.”

Your curious eyes fell on the red tribal decals on his black Nexx SX100r helmet, reminding you of the same face tattoo designs he had mentioned wanting to get, but you were refusing to let him have. “New helmet?”

Sukuna nodded, smirking as he tapped the headgear with his gloved hand. “Yeah, you like it?”

“I do,” you replied, smiling. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

You glanced at his sleek black Yamaha R1 outside the window and immediately closed your chosen book for the day. “Okay, well…” You met his gaze again. “I have backpack duties today, don’t I?”

He was quick to dismiss it. “No, no. You can finish reading. I don’t mind just sittin’ here and watching you for a while.”

But, being the stubborn girl you were, you were already packing your book into your bag. You didn’t even listen to a word he said. “Did you bring my helmet?”

“‘Course, princess. Your helmet’s right there strapped onto the backseat.” Your boyfriend leaned in closer and pointed to his sportbike. Just as he took your bag from you, his eyes lingered on your lips for a moment. “So, you’re gonna be my pretty little backpack today?”

You mustn’t have realized it, but the two of you had become the subject of envious stares in the cafe. Most of the girls who looked your way were clearly jealous. Yet your cute, clueless self didn’t even seem to notice as you clung to his arm. “Yes, lovey. I miss being your backpack.” 

Did you know? Sukuna always melted from your enthusiasm. And he couldn’t even resist pinching your cheeks. “Alright, then.” His hand moved to squeeze your nose. “I'll be your personal chauffeur, and you’ll be my cute little backpack who’s clinging tightly to me the whole time. Sounds good?”

“Yessir,” you answered with a playful salute. 

“Good girl.” He then took your hand in his, leading you out of the cafe and onto the parking lot when he all of a sudden felt a tug on his arm. 

You had a visible pout displayed. “Lovey, wait!” 

“What is it, baby?” The question came out of him softly, tilting his head when he looked at you. 

“My kiss,” you said sweetly, making Sukuna feel like Cupid shot an arrow to his heart. “You forgot.”

How can one person be so unbelievably adorable? Just how? How on Earth did he land the cutest girl on the planet? The cuteness aggression was certainly urging him to fall on his knees right now. With the weakness he tried to restrain inside, he was trying his hardest to laugh it off on the outside. “Oh damn, you’re right.” He pulled his helmet up, leaning in forward to place a warm, tender kiss on your soft lips. He could hear the hearts of the surrounding girls breaking at the sight. “Can’t believe I forgot to give my baby the most important item of the day.” 

Satisfied with the kiss, you followed your tattooed boyfriend like a shadow to meet his bike, ‘Fury’, as he affectionately named it. The sportbike rocked a midnight black wrap and the cool customizations he added made it a standout even more. Of course, what kind of person would think Sukuna would stick with a boring base design? One of the best things about his R1 was its front light, infamous in the bike community, as it resembled a menacing face that added to its aggressive allure. It was also equipped with a powerful 998cc inline-four engine, leaving no questions why ‘Fury’ roared with a throaty exhaust note that echoed through the streets. Sukuna chuckled inwardly at the thought. He hoped you wouldn’t mind, but this big bad boy would have been the love of his life if you hadn’t come along. 

“Love, I was thinking,” you interrupted his trance as he slipped the smaller helmet over your head, deftly securing the straps under your chin, “Do you think we can swing by the bookstore on the way?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Sure, we can. You wanna pick up more books to read?”

“I do,” you confirmed, yet hesitated at the end of your tone. “Well, there’s this book I wanna read, but… it has eighteen plus stuff.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow in intrigue, his visor still up as he effortlessly lifted you onto the back of his bike with one arm. “Oh, so it’s a spicy book, huh?” he teased, recalling the discussions he had seen on ‘biketok’ where he went by the username r1.skn. His TikTok account was an unexpected blend of motorcycle enthusiasts and book lovers, and that unique intersection of interests amused him endlessly. “Think my followers would love to know what my backpack’s gonna read next.” 

Even with your helmet on, he could sense the shy smile behind it. “No, please don’t film our ride today!”

“Hmm… What kind of spicy book are we talking about, baby?” he asked, settling onto his bike and revving the engine. When your arms were securely wrapped around his torso, he took that as a go signal to hold the throttle and smoothly shift from first to second gear. “Is it very naughty?”

You hugged him tightly from behind. “Um, it’s about this biker guy and a bookish girl,” you introduced the plot coyly, “And yes, it has some steamy scenes.”

He glanced at you through the bike’s mirror, ensuring that you were safe and secured behind him. Sukuna then shifted into third gear as you entered an empty road, gradually picking up speed. The roar of his bike was louder than his voice. “Really? I bet the biker guy is a dominant one.”

“Yeah.” Your grip tightened on his compression shirt, almost as if you were trying to feel his abs through the fabric. “He’s got tattoos, too.”

What a tease. “You better picture me as that biker guy when you read that book, princess,” he playfully warned, “You’re mine, both in real life and in your fantasies.”

“Yes, but my lovey is hotter.” 

“Good response, baby. You have taste.” 

As you reached the stoplight in the city intersection, Sukuna slowed down and adjusted the small camera mounted on his bike to make sure it still had the perfect angle of you two. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he now had evidence of how touchy his cute, little backpack could get. You sensed him filming your interaction, but instead of pulling your hand away, you leaned further against his back and playfully touched his toned chest. He was surprised and amused at the action, gently pulling your hand down when your silly hands squeezed his chest, but you remained undeterred by placing them near his crotch the next. Your boyfriend hoped to God that none of the surrounding cars were recording you two for your affectionate display in the middle of the traffic. 

“Brat,” he teased back with a shake of his head. “A brat who always gets what she wants, especially in bed.”

Your whine followed, along with a light slap on his arm. “Hey!” 

Why was this red light taking too long? He was getting all bricked up the more he could feel your tits pressing against his back. Although, he considered it a blessing and curse, because the only distraction that was served to you two was when another bike pulled up ahead of cars lined up behind you. It was a white Kawasaki ZX-10R. And its owner? A jerk who had a clear death wish. 

“Hey there, sexy,” catcalled the rider of the 10R, stopping exactly where he could see your rear. “Cute helmet.” 

Sukuna knew you well enough to know that you were offering an uncomfortable, yet polite smile underneath the helmet. But it was the tug at your boyfriend’s shirt that made him glance over the biker with a hint of warning in his eyes. “What’d you say?” His voice carried a menacing edge. While he hadn’t been in a brawl in a while, he definitely didn’t mind the idea of one now. “Back off my girl or I’ll smash your head on the ground.” 

The ZX-10R rider chuckled, hands in the air like an idiot. “Alright, man. No harm meant.” 

“Shut it.” 

“Okay, jeez! How about a little race to settle things? See who’s got the faster ride?”

Sukuna scoffed, finding it hard to believe that a random guy, especially an obvious amateur, had the audacity to challenge him to a race. Didn’t he know? Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t nicknamed the King of the Streets for nothing. He had been riding motorcycles for twelve years now, starting with a modest 300cc and graduating to his current 1000cc superbike. His riding experience was unmatched. He also knew every biker in the area as it was his turf. Yet this ZX-10R rider had appeared out of nowhere with such laughable confidence. 

Thanks to him, your boyfriend’s competitive spirit was ignited. “You’re on.”

“Cool,” the other biker replied.

Meanwhile, you tensed behind Sukuna and gripped his shirt tighter than before. “Love, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He turned his head, gently held the top of your head, and gave you a sweet ‘helmet kiss’. “I’ll keep you safe,” he reassured, “Just hold on tight for me, okay?”

As soon as the light turned green, best believe the street became a racetrack. All the cars were left behind to dust with the roar of motorcycles as both bikers increased their speed, side by side, in a fierce race. Sukuna shifted into third gear as he passed the next intersection, then into fourth gear when the ZX-10R caught up to him. He could feel your hold around him tightening more than ever as the rush of the wind blew through your helmet’s visor.

He thought you might hate it, but you were surprisingly loving the thrill of the scene. 

“Go, baby!” you cheered, holding onto him for dear life. Cute. 

“Not bad, man!” the other biker shouted over the wind, pulling ahead slightly at Sukuna’s moment of distraction. “But try harder!”

Tch. Sukuna gritted his teeth and focused all his senses on the road ahead. He weaved through traffic, maneuvering his bike skillfully and taking advantage of every opportunity to gain ground. In no time, he caught up with the ZX-10R rider, and they soon raced neck and neck. They exchanged glances as they sped between cars, with the other vehicles blurring around them in motion. The thrill of the competition fueled their adrenaline, while you, as the passenger, felt your heart pounding with excitement.

Both bikes continued to zoom down the road. And it was also during that time when Sukuna locked his mind and body into analyzing the situation. Let’s see, he thought, should I push Fury to its limits?

He calculated his next move, feeling the strong breeze on his face and the vibrations of the powerful engine beneath him. The ZX-10R rider was good, but Sukuna knew he had the skills and the bike to outpace him. He just needed to time it right. Between a ZX-10R and an R1, a quick Google search would tell you that the 10R pulls faster than an R1 engine wise. While both bikes were top-tier, high performance vehicles with a 200 horsepower and a top speed exceeding 180mph, the 10R’s disadvantage is being 7 kg heavier, which instantly gave Sukuna an edge in this situation. Being the lighter bike between the two would certainly make him marginally better at handling and acceleration. 

With that, your boyfriend capitalized on his bike’s strengths and shifted into sixth gear at the next intersection, surging ahead and crossing the finish line just as the ZX-10R was left stuck at the last stoplight.

Sweet, sweet victory. Sukuna sped onto the freeway, shouting triumphantly into the air. “Woohoo!” He could feel the jolt of adrenaline satiating his need for a thrilling ride. 

“B-Babe.” You, on the other hand, tugged at his shirt in worry. “Babe, we’re going too fast. The cops—!”

The sound of the siren snapped Sukuna back to reality in an instant. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, frustrated by the abrupt interruption. “Can’t even have a minute to celebrate my win.” 

While he could have engaged in a high-speed freeway chase if he wanted to, especially having already escaped the police once, having you with him now made him opt for better judgment. His promise to keep you safe was his foremost priority here. So, swallowing his pride with a tightened jaw, he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road as the police car trailed behind.

The officer swiftly exited his vehicle and approached you two. “Evening, folks,” the stern voice of the elderly officer broke the tension. “License and registration, please.”

Sukuna retrieved his wallet and handed over his license and registration, then turned to you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. He could tell his poor little backpack was feeling anxious. 

The cop then glanced between you and Sukuna, his gaze lingering on you with concern. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, his focus more on your well-being than on the biker himself.

You nodded, trying to appear composed despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. “Yes, officer. I’m fine.”

The officer soon directed his attention to the R1. “What’s the fastest you’ve been on this thing?”

Sukuna couldn’t resist a cheeky reply. “Speed limit.”

“Very funny,” said the unamused officer, who retreated to his vehicle to run Sukuna’s information while leaving you and your boyfriend to exchange glances once more.

His expression softened. “Sorry about this, babe. I didn’t mean to get us in trouble.”  

“It’s okay.” You reassured him with a squeeze around his waist. “I trust you.”

Interrupting the tender moment, the officer returned and handed back your boyfriend’s license. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked, receiving a shrug in response. A lecture that Sukuna heavily hated soon followed. “You were speeding back there. I clocked you going 20 miles over the limit. It’s always you fellas with the 1000cc bikes who think they’re invincible. Even 600cc guys are scared of the police. You need to slow down, especially with a passenger.”

With your insistent look, Sukuna nodded to the cop, apologetically. “Understood, sir.” 

The officer studied Sukuna for a moment before releasing a sigh. “Look, I get it. It’s a nice night for a ride. Just remember, it’s not just your life on the line. You’ve got someone else to think about.” He pointed at you while handing your boyfriend a ticket. “You’ve gotta take good care of her.” 

Only then did Sukuna’s cold mien soften up with the cop. “I’ll be careful next time, officer.”

“Right. I’m letting you off with a warning this time, but I’m writing you a ticket for speeding. Slow down, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The officer returned to his car, and Sukuna pocketed the ticket with a mixture of relief and frustration etched on his face. “We didn’t get to pass by your bookstore,” he lamented, giving you an affectionate caress on the back. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You touched your headgear to his, sharing a helmet kiss. “There’s always next time,” you reassured him with a smile in your voice. “Besides, this is a real-life experience that no book can ever give me.”

~~

By the time you arrived at your apartment, darkness had already settled in, leaving a cozy glow from the distant cityscape as you switched on the lights and placed your helmet on the nearby console table. Immediately, your British shorthair cat dashed toward you with a loud meow, his pretty auburn eyes gleaming with excitement at seeing his mom.

“Hi, Casper,” you cooed at the feline, but his attention swiftly turned when Sukuna entered your apartment a few minutes later—someone he clearly wasn’t fond of.

Upon spotting Sukuna, your cat hissed, expressing his displeasure toward your boyfriend, who playfully stuck his tongue out in response. “I’m back, asshole.”

“Don’t call him that!” You chuckled, attending to Casper by mixing up his food in his bowl. “He’s probably never going to warm up to you at this rate.”

Sukuna smoothly removed his jacket and flopped down on the couch. “Boo! Casper sucks,” he hooted, cupping his hands around his mouth, “He’s just jealous because you love me more.”

It had been a while since Casper had seen Sukuna since you were the one coming over at his place more often. Still, the cat’s disdain for your boyfriend persisted, and you suspected it was because Casper could detect the scent of Sukuna’s dog, a large Doberman, whenever he was near. You can only imagine how crazy your household would be should you and your boyfriend move in together in the near future. 

For now, his occasional visits sufficed. Although, there were days when his presence in your apartment stirred more thoughts in your mind than just simple cuddles and movie nights. How could you help it? He was oblivious to the thoughts running in your head as he sat lazily on your couch, his legs spread wide, lifting his compression shirt just above his sweaty chest. His toned abs were impossible to ignore, especially as he ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily.

“Babe, it’s so hot,” he said, fanning his face, completely unaware of the chaos inside your head. “Wanna shower before bed?”

His suggestion was innocent enough, but your immediate agreement was driven by a different kind of excitement. “Okay,” you replied with a sheepish grin, “I’ll see if you have any clothes left in the closet.”

You see, you and Sukuna had just started dating a few months ago—precisely 6 months and 3 weeks to be exact, so the relationship was definitely still fresh and vulnerable. But needless to say, while he was indeed a sweet and dreamy boyfriend that you could only ever read about in your stash of fictional books, there was also a side of him that awakened the more mature side of you. 

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Sukuna was more experienced in the intimacy department than you. And him being your first did bring in thoughts of inadequacy in terms of your performance in bed. You haven’t done it enough to call yourself a pro, but you also did it enough to say that you already knew what, how, and where to please him the most. You owe that experience to the multitude of smut scenes you had read about on Tumblr and AO3, because those exact stories provided essential insights that guided your actions on your first time.

Now, whenever the sexy beast within you was unleashed, you didn’t even hold back anymore. 

The shower was already running when you stepped inside the small space, your boyfriend letting the cold water fall on his naked tattooed body in rivulets. Each drop of water sounded like rainfall, and with him pulling you closer by the arm, he began kissing you with a passion that made it feel like you were caught in a rainstorm.

“Lovey!” You giggled, pushing your palms flat against his chest. “You said we’ll just shower.” 

“You know what I meant by that, baby.” 

The water continued to cascade down your skin, your hair now damp and your body now wet. Sukuna’s eyes darkened in lust as eyed you up and down, his hands tracing the curves of your body, before crashing his lips back onto yours once more. This time, his kisses were more aggressive as he bit your lower lip, and took the opportunity of shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He was devouring you with rough and wide movements, allowing your tongue to roll around his in a playful tangle. And with his fingers now grabbing a fistful of your hair, and his other hand sliding down your chest to squeeze your breast, you felt a stretch on your scalp when he pulled you by the hair to look up at him. “You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” he teased, kneading your right breast before his hand moved south to palm your dripping cunt, “Deep down, you’re just as naughty and wicked as me.” 

“N-No.” Your breath hitched when his lips traced light kisses around your neck. But it wasn’t just his kisses and touch that made your knees weak, it was the feeling of his hardened member pressed against your stomach, fully erect and ready to be inside you. “Mmh… You’re the naughty one.” 

Sukuna went in for another open-mouthed kiss before he nibbled on your earlobe. “I don’t deny that, princess,” he pivoted your body around, and made you lean against the glass wall so he could get a better view of your buttocks. While you, you could see your tits pressed against the glass from your reflection in the mirror, a sight that your boyfriend went absolutely crazy for when he looked up. “Ah, fuck. That’s so hot.” 

You could feel his fingers playing with your entrance from behind, and you watched him bite his lip through the mirror, his eyes dancing in lust as he wantonly stared at your body. “Ngh,” you bit back a moan, the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance making you curl your toes, “I… I-I like that.” 

“I bet you do, baby.” Good lord. His voice was deep and raspy, and the sexiness of it was enough to make you wet. He even showed you evidence per se, when he pulled his digits out, spreading two fingers apart to show you the clear, slimy substance that coated it. You were already a blushing mess when he showed you your cum, and felt the heat in your cheeks worsening as you watched him, eye-to-eye, suck your juices from his fingers. “Aww, my baby tastes sweet.” 

“It’s the pineapple juice,” you joked, allowing him to cup your jaw and place a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “Mmm—I forgot to tell you.” You pulled away to look at your boyfriend. “I’m ovulating.” 

Sukuna tilted his head, squeezing your bum tenderly as he replied, “Are you suggesting I get you pregnant?”

“No, silly!” You chuckled shyly while he positioned himself behind you. “I was trying to say that I get extra horny when I’m ovulating.” 

He smiled, aroused more than ever as he heard you say those words out loud. “Too bad, I was thinking of creampie-ing you.” 

A gasp flew out of your lips when Sukuna’s long, slender fingers performed circular motions on your clitoris, stretching your labia apart so he could insert two fingers at your entrance. “B-Babe!” Your widened eyes were in great contrast to his lust-filled ones as he found entertainment at your submission to pleasure. You gripped his wrist and tiptoed when he started scissoring his fingers inside, forcing you to raise your leg so he could continue to move his hand in and out of your sopping cunt. “Ahh—ah! S-Sukuna!”

He hadn’t heard his name from you in awhile and he found that amusing. “Hm, baby? Saying something?” 

You squeezed your legs together to hide the clench that you were feeling inside, looking up at his crazed brown eyes and tracing his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You couldn’t hold it anymore, you were a willing slut ready to be pounded on by this tattooed man. “Please, f-fuck me.”

He reattached his lips back onto yours and pulled away just enough to keep your foreheads connected. “Not yet, baby girl.” A sly smirk spread off his lips. “That book you were reading earlier at the cafe,” he began, pulling his fingers away to turn you around, “It was smut, wasn’t it?” 

Feeling a wave of embarrassment as he brought it up, you responded with a coquettish smile. “Maybe.” 

Sukuna then pushed you down on your knees, letting you kneel down in front of his hard, veiny cock. He had stroked himself a few times—his other hand lifting your chin up—before he slapped his length against your lips. “Think you can show me how they did it in that book?” 

“Why…” you trailed off, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping the long, meaty shaft before placing your tongue on top of the swollen tip. He was all crazed and aroused when you kept eye-contact and started putting his member inside your mouth.

“Damn.” Your boyfriend threw his head back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s make all your fantasies a reality, baby.” 

Well, he was sweet for that. But also mischievous, too. He knew you could be just as naughty as him because he had seen the books you were reading and most of them were definitely far from innocent. Could he blame you? Sometimes, reading about it was better than experiencing it. Yet with your boyfriend’s ego, he wasn’t one to allow your fictional men to be better than him in all aspects. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually.

You let him guide your hand into stroking his shaft before you ejected spit on the pink head, using it to lubricate his aching member while you lowered yourself further to fit his firm balls inside your mouth. It gave you utmost pleasure to hear his guttural moans when you swirled your tongue around his bollocks—tasting the same flesh that carried all of his sperm, and releasing it from your mouth to give his cock the same attention. At first, you kissed his swollen tip and treated it like a lollipop, then you started sucking every inch of his length by bobbing your head at a stable rhythm. “Mmm.” You could hear curses leaving his pretty lips as he held your head in place, snapping his hips forward until you were gagging from the intense penetration on your throat.

You learned all these after a single read at your favorite 18+ book.  

“That’s a good girl.” His praise rang in your ears like a sweet melody.

Even without a reflection to look at, this was the most erotogenic exchange you two had ever done as a couple. And along with that, his half lidded eyes were staring down at you, judging you and your every move. 

You did your best to give him a stellar performance, did your most at pleasuring his member, and did everything that he liked whenever you were sucking his cock. And just like that, thick ropes of cum were sent straight down your throat. The musky, metallic taste didn’t stop you from swallowing all of his seed and you had to show your tongue to make him know that you did a good job at taking all of his semen. Nothing was wasted.

Not even time, because as soon as you finished giving him a blowjob, he was already carrying you out of the bathroom without drying yourselves off. You were thrown into your double bed, manhandled into spreading your legs apart before your animalistic lover plunged his face onto your pussy.

“S-Sukuna—! Mmm—fuck!”

He had your back arching because of how deep his tongue was going inside, tasting your walls and kissing your cunt like he would do with your mouth. He was smooching off your labia like a hungry beast, eating you out as if he wasn’t satisfied by the juices that he was sucking from you. You were already in your seventh heaven, unable to think straight when he added his middle finger to the movements of his tongue. If fingering your pussy and lapping your clitoris weren’t enough to drive you crazy, maybe grabbing a fistful of pinkish hair was a sign for him to stop before you could truly lose it. You could feel fire pooling on your lower abdomen and your legs were already shaking uncontrollably, your toes curling wantonly—with the suction he was doing on your cunt, you ended up screaming for his name and engulfing his mouth with your Earth-shattering release.

“Haah! ‘Kuna, p-please…”

As he detached his mouth from your entrance, he started climbing up, visibly pleased with the way he ravaged your cunt. He was wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, pressing his lips down on yours to make you taste your own fluid. A string of saliva connected your mouth to his before he grabbed ahold of his erect member once again. It hadn’t even been more than two minutes and you were already being hauled into another position. “Let me fuck you from behind.”

“Lovey, w-wait.”

“Ass up, baby.” His patience was growing thin when he dragged your body by raising your hips close to his crotch and pressing your head down against the mattress. Your boyfriend cared none for the embarrassment that settled on your heated cheeks when he spread your buttocks apart so he could ogle at the exact hole that he was about to enter. 

“No, wait!” you begged, looking up at him with a plea, “Condom, please.” 

The realization hit his face. “I think I’m all out, baby. Let me check,” he said, pulling away and stumbling towards his discarded pants on the floor, hoping desperately that he would find an unused packet of condom. Just to his luck, he had one more packet hidden between the folds of his leather wallet. “Got it!” 

He hastily ripped the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out, and rolling it slowly to cover his entire length. You remained on all fours, watching him as he ejected spit on his fingers, which he soon used to lubricate your entrance. 

Did he give you any time to adjust? That word didn’t even exist in his vocabulary when he sunk all seven inches inside of your cunt, wrecking you open to the point where you could feel a stinging sensation on your entrance after being stretched by his fully erect cock. “Best pussy in the entire world.”

You were suppressing your moans from coming out too loud while you bit on a pillow, nails digging on the sheets as your lover penetrated your tight vaginal walls. “Ahh! M-More… More.” He was treating you like a fleshlight as he continued to rut your sopping cunt with his fat cock, absolutely enjoying how your warm pussy was milking his full length.

“Can your fictional boys fuck you like this, baby?” he breathed, all deep and velvety as he gave you the most rhythmical skin-slapping thrusts. He was so deep in your cavern that you could feel the base of his cock slamming against your ass. You didn’t even notice the hand that was snaking on your front to massage your bouncing tit because you were far too lost in the shockwaves of sexual gratification. “No other man can fuck you this good.”

It was like he was riding his own bike. With how fast his pace was increasing, you were already too limp to feel his hard thrusts.

Your brain was short-circuiting from the amount of sensation that was entering your body, intoxicated by the waves of libido in your system that was heightening more and more as he continued to satisfy your insatiable heat. You could barely think straight. You lost your sanity. All the modest parts of you had completely dissolved into a bitch in heat. Like a needy little whore. You didn’t even have any control of your own words when you started telling Sukuna, “I… want… you to keep… fucking me… like this.” Another forceful slam elicited a mewl out of you. “A-Aah! Haah!”

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Your boyfriend held a tighter grip on your hips, your moaning face leaving an imprint on his mind as he propelled your body forward and raced towards his ecstasy. After yet another thrust or two, or three, or four… Spurts of warm seed started exploding into the rubber. Sukuna’s thrust had become unsteady, his body falling down on the bed but his member still remaining inside of you. “I can’t get enough of your pussy, baby.” 

You were catching your breath after he broke your mind into becoming this sex-obsessed freak. “Lookie! My bed’s all wet now.” 

He smiled and finally pulled out, only to lean down again and plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let me carry you to the couch,” he offered, but first he had to pull the condom out of his cock to reveal a cum-filled rubber. “Christ. I came a lot.” 

In other words, his cum would have been dripping out of your pussy for days.

You extended your arms, awaiting to be lifted like a princess by your lover. “Carry me now, please!”

“I will, baby.” Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his tattooed arms. He, too, was heavy breathing, but he still effortlessly held you. “I’ll take care of cleaning your sheets while you sleep.”

He was already walking towards the living room as you kicked your feet in the air, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. “Can you clean out Casper’s litter box, too?”

Sukuna made a face of disgust, glancing at the cat before gently setting you down on the couch. “Only if he stops being an asshole,” he joked, but your pleading expression melted his resolve. “Alright, fine. I’ll take care of your bed, your cat’s litter... what else? You’re lucky I love you, you know.” He moved to the window, drawing the curtains closed to shield you from prying eyes. “Do you think your neighbors saw us fuck earlier? I forgot to pull the curtains on your bedroom.”

You laughed, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. “Well, there’s this couple that’s been giving me strange looks lately, so it definitely isn’t the first time they’ve seen us do it.”

“It’s like that movie we watched,” Sukuna mused, trying to recall the title.

“The Voyeurs!” you both exclaimed in unison, sharing a laugh before you gestured to him. “Get dressed, lovey!”

Sukuna returned to tuck you in under the thin sheets, leaning down to give you a peck on the lips. “And you get some rest now, baby.”

~~

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you woke up, stretching lazily in bed to find Casper purring next to you. That’s strange, you thought. Your cat normally wouldn’t go near you when your boyfriend was around, so you turned to your side, expecting to find Sukuna still sleeping beside you, but the spot was empty. Confused, you glanced around the room, noticing that his motorcycle gear was also missing from its usual place. 

“Lovey?” you called out through the empty apartment. “Where are you?” 

With no response received, you walked towards your bedroom and found the sheets had been changed and everything was tidy. Searching the bathroom yielded no clues to Sukuna’s whereabouts either. And a quick trip downstairs to check his usual parking spot confirmed your suspicion—he had left without a word. 

You frowned, reaching for your phone to send him an annoyed text.

YOU: love, where are you? 

YOU: i’m not some kind of booty call that you can just leave the next morning without a say

The minutes ticked by as you waited for a reply, feeling a mix of frustration and worry because of his absence. Were you overthinking this? Perhaps he was just out to get you lunch. Or maybe he had an emergency. You tried to calm yourself down by breathing deeply and thinking of any possible explanation other than the worst-case scenario. Maybe his phone died, or he got caught up in something urgent. But after an hour of no response, worry began to gnaw at you. Did he just ghost me? 

“Oh, God.” You paced back and forth in your apartment, checking your phone repeatedly for any sign of a message or call from Sukuna. “Oh, God. Oh, God! I’ve read about this a lot. Why are guys such jerks?” 

You tried to rationalize his absence, hoping for a reasonable explanation, but your mind persisted racing through various scenarios, with each one more disheartening than the last. Maybe he’d gotten tired of you, or perhaps he was scared of commitment. The frustration and confusion were almost unbearable. Was the sex last night not good enough for him? 

That situation lasted the entire afternoon. And you wanted to rip your hair out at the fact that your boyfriend had been gone for hours, his phone unreachable, and his friends having no idea where he was.  

So as the evening approached and your anxiety grew, you decided to call Sukuna again. It was the 47th missed call. But just as you were about to dial his number once more, you heard the familiar roar of his R1.

“What the hell.” You rushed to the window and saw your boyfriend pulling into the parking area. Relief flooded your system as you watched him switch off the engine, dismount his bike, and walk leisurely towards your apartment building’s lobby like he didn’t just leave an anxious girlfriend without a note the morning after he fucked her brains out.

You waited for him to arrive at your doorstep, your heart calmer but still ticking with anxiety as the clock rang in your ears. You were ready to give him a lashing for being unresponsive to your texts and calls. But as the door swung open, your boyfriend knowing your passcode by heart, you didn’t expect that your anger at him would end up being for a totally different reason. 

Because there he was, standing by your door looking slightly disheveled but with a sheepish smile on his face. He held a Barnes & Noble bag in one hand.

“Hey, baby—”

“What the heck happened?” You rushed to him, noticing the scrapes and bruises on his face. “Are you okay? I was worried sick!” 

Sukuna removed his helmet and winced slightly, the corner of his lower lip was smeared with dried blood. “Sorry, my love,” he spoke softly, going in for a comforting hug, “I wanted to surprise you, but things got a little complicated.” 

You pulled away to touch his bruised cheek. “You’re hurt. Why aren’t you answering my texts?” 

“Phone’s dead,” he answered, showing you his lifeless phone before handing over the bag. “And this is for you, my beautiful princess.”

Taking the bag, you said, “You didn’t have to do this.” Then your eyes scanned his face for any sign of serious injury.

“I wanted to,” he insisted, his voice filled with affection despite his exhaustion. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

You eyed the Barnes & Noble bag, realizing that the book inside was the exact one you had mentioned wanting yesterday. Your emotions swirled in a mix of frustration and tenderness. Should you lecture him for being so reckless, or cry because of how romantic it was that he went out of his way to get the book you had been searching for?

But first and foremost, how and where did he get all those bruises?

Before you could ask, he already had an answer prepared. “Long story, baby. Let's just say I had a little run-in with another biker who had the same idea as me.”

You grabbed his hand and guided him to sit on the couch while you hurriedly fetched your first aid kit. As you tended to the scrapes on Sukuna’s face, Casper the cat approached cautiously, sniffing his scent before surprising both of you by leaning against your boyfriend’s leg.

“Meow~”

“Casper!” Sukuna exclaimed joyfully, picking up the cat with a playful flourish like how Rafiki carried Simba in The Lion King “Babe, he finally likes me!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and joined Sukuna on the couch, gently tilting his chin to examine his bruise. “Tell me exactly what happened,” you asked with a hint of sternness, “You went all over town just for this book?”

Your boyfriend carefully set Casper back down and nodded. “Yeah, it’s the last one they had. Had to fight for it, though.” He then rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t even get a kiss or a thank you?”

At once, all your defenses crumbled. You let go of the gauze in your hand and pulled your boyfriend into a tender kiss, wrapping him in a warm hug afterward. “You’re insane, you know that? I was so worried about you, and now I find out you spent the whole day looking for this book.” You sighed, overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions the day had brought. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man who had gone to such lengths to make you happy. “But thank you, lovey. That’s really sweet of you.”

Sukuna, now grinning broadly, held you closer around the waist. “Always welcome, my baby.”

“Now, tell me about that biker,” you began, taking a q-tip and some ointment, “How’d you get into a fight?” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” he recalled, amused at the thought, “He was going to get the book for his girl, too. But I got there first, and he wouldn’t let me have it.” 

Jesus. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh at the absurdity of two bikers squabbling over a book in a bookstore. “You should’ve just let him have it.” 

“But baby!” he protested like a child, “I couldn’t come home empty-handed. I already feel bad we didn’t get to pass by the bookstore yesterday.” 

What a stubborn boyfriend you have. “I already told you it’s okay, lovey. You’re the best boyfriend already. I appreciate the effort and I’m even more in love with you now than ever,” you reassured, placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose, “Now, is there anything I can give you in return? As a thank you?” 

Oh, boy. You already assumed he would request for something concerning activities in bed. But his face suddenly lit up as if a lightbulb just appeared above his head. His idea was surely not what you had in mind. 

“How about I teach you how to ride my bike?” 

~~

The sun hung low on the horizon as Sukuna stood beside his Yamaha R1, patiently explaining the basics of riding ‘Fury’ to you. He seemed to be heavily enjoying this whole thing. Meanwhile, you, donning a helmet and gloves, were fully geared up, nervousness evident as you cautiously swung your leg over the bike.

“Ah, dammit.” Your boyfriend was grinning like an idiot as he saw you sitting on his bike. “You’re gonna be one hot biker girl. I can’t! You’re mine. Don’t let them see you like this, babe!” 

“Stop exaggerating!” you retorted, your voice tense with nerves as you gripped the handlebars tightly. “This bike feels… big.” 

“Like my cock?”

“Stop it.”

Sukuna erupted into a chuckle before proceeding to move closer to you. “Alright, babe. Remember what I showed you about the clutch and throttle control,” he encouraged, “Take it slow.”

Nodding, you started the bike and felt the powerful engine rumble beneath you. With your boyfriend’s guidance, you eased out the clutch and gave a tentative twist of the throttle. The bike lurched forward, causing you to panic and squeeze the brakes hard. 

“Oh, my God!” You let out a squeak of surprise. “Oh, my God! I’m gonna die.” 

“Easy there.” He held your waist protectively. “Let’s try one more time?” 

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the intimidating power of the machine beneath you and instead focus on Sukuna’s instructions. Even with his guidance, you found yourself repeating the same mistake where this time, you braked too hard again, causing your body to jolt forward dangerously. You would have fallen from the bike if not for your boyfriend catching you right on time.

“I can’t do this…” You shook your head, frantically. “I’m not cut out for this.”

Sukuna held you steady, his hands firm yet reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, looking into your eyes. “It takes time, alright? You’re doing fine. Maybe we should start with something smaller.”

You let out a heavy exhale as Sukuna carried you off his bike. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Like a lower cc bike?” he suggested, giving your helmet a playful tap. “Let’s start you off on a 150cc bike. Yuuji has a CBR150R we can borrow.”

“I wouldn’t want to wreck your nephew’s bike,” you teased, watching from the side as Sukuna effortlessly mounted his own bike.

He revved the engine and reached out for your hand, helping you settle in behind him. “Then, you can just stay being my backpack princess for now”

With your arms securely around his waist, the bike accelerated, the wind whipping against your helmet visor. The view of the sunset was perfect for this ride. “So, does that mean I’m not your ride or die anymore?”

Sukuna took your hand from behind, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Nah. You’ll always be my ride or die, baby.”

[goldenroutledge]

one in a million

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: fluff. lando’s comfort show is revealed to the world and you only love him more for it.

warning(s): swearing, hannah montana (? lol), max f makes an appearance

a/n: i saw the interview of lando saying to oscar “you’ve never seen hannah montana?” and took that personally. hope you like it <3

lando norris masterlist

“Tell us your comfort show, Lando! What are you binge watching these days?” Max exclaims through the mic, voicing a comment from a fan in the livestream chat.

“Yeah and who has time for that?” Lando retorts, ever sarcastic in his banter with his best friend.

Max chuckles. “Man’s won two races and wants you to believe he’s working around the clock.”

“They keep us very busy, you know! In the simulator, doing media…”

“Mhm. He’s just deflecting from answering, guys. Because if he reveals the true answer Y/n’s probably gonna leave him.”

“Keep her out of this alright? I’m not deflecting from anything.”

“Sure you’re not.” Max muses. It’s apparent that Lando’s secret, a potentially embarrassing one at that, is on the tip of his tongue. He can only assume that the reactions in the chat would be good, but the way he’s toying with Lando right now is great. One of his favorite pastimes by far. “Don’t worry guys, you’re not missing much. His comfort show is not even that good anyway.”

“Stop spreading lies on stream, mate. We’re losing all credibility.”

“Did we ever have any?”

A moment of silence falls over the stream, before both men fall into a fit of suppressed laughter almost in unison, obviously failing at keeping their composure when the jokes are low-hanging fruit.

“But seriously, Max has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m not telling you guys the name of the show, all you need to know is that it has plot, humor, character development… and it’s not even a cartoon!”

“Yet you’re a little too old to be watching it, don’t you think?”

“You’re not being a very true friend, Max. Who said I’m too old to watch it?”

“Not a true friend? Is that what we’re doing?” Max catches on almost immediately to Lando’s quoting of certain song titles in his sentences, giving small hints to the viewers without completely giving it away. “I know you don’t mean that so I’ll forgive you. After all, nobody's perfect.”

“I hope you’re including yourself in that, mate.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m just like you.” Max sings his last three words, imitating the original songstress as best as he could.

“There we go, that’s more like it.” Lando smiles, amused with himself and with the way the chat is speculating who they’re referring to.

“I’m not changing my mind, it’s time for you to move on from that show. Just kiss it goodbye, Lando.”

“Are you the superfan here or am I? Because you’re quoting an awful lot of songs there.”

Max sighs, clearly taking more humor in this than he probably should. But would it be a Max Fewtrell x Lando Norris stream without a good inside joke? “Life’s what you make it, man.”

“It is what you make it. Some may say truer words have never been spoken.” Lando responds thoughtfully, clearly pondering his words. Or he’s at least pretending to.

“The fact that you get your life lessons from that show is concerning. Has anyone guessed it yet?” Max questions, carefully scanning the chat to see if there’s any mention of a certain blonde pop star.

“Well I don’t need them to guess it! If it’s my comfort show then how comforting would it be for everyone to know it?”

“They already know, mate! We’re not exactly subtle!”

“Fine, then we’ll say it on three. Ready?” Lando suggests, before counting down in unison with Max. “1…2…3…Go-fuck-yourself.”

“Hannah Montana!” Max shouts quickly, leaving an eerie silence over the stream as he bursts into laughter once again, nothing short of hysterical. “It’s Hannah Montana!”

Lando blushes slightly, his stoic expression slowly breaking before he begins laughing himself. If anyone watching didn’t know any better, they’d think he’s crying by the way he cups his face in his hands. It only provokes Max’s reaction further. Out of all of their stream moments, it goes without saying that they know there’s no way this isn’t getting clipped.

–

You’re lounging in bed when Lando returns to you from the ensuite bathroom, fresh out of the shower and ready to cuddle up to you after a long day. His heartbeat usually quickens at the sight of you anyway, but especially now as he sees you there in your shared bed. Visibly calm, cozy in one of his t-shirts, and ready to forget about the outside world with him for the night.

You can hardly peel your eyes away from the video playing on your phone, but it’s not hard once his eyes meet yours. You smile at him which is never out of the ordinary, only this time you know something he doesn’t. There’s mischief in your smirk and he immediately catches onto it.

“Congrats babe, you’re viral.” You face your phone towards him so he can see the video of himself from just hours earlier.

He throws his head back in exasperation and sighs dramatically, knowing that his suspicions have been proved correct. The little Hannah Montana moment between him & Max today was definitely clipped and had made its way into your algorithm. Lando throws the covers back and crawls in bed next to you, feeling at least a little bit soothed at the warmth of your body heat compared to the chill down his spine. He watches the video from over your shoulder, fitting in comfortably right beside you.

“I can’t believe he really went there!” You exclaim, with no urge to scroll past the video and see something else. You’d hate to make Lando feel bad, but it does get a little funnier every time.

“I can.” Lando states matter-of-factly. “He’s been holding it over my head ever since my sister let it slip that we watched it all the time growing up.” You giggle, which prompts Lando to defend himself further. “But it’s a good show! If I put on a wig and took on a new persona, my DJ career would’ve taken off by now. She’s a genius if you think about it. I mean I can’t be the only one who understands, right?”

“You’re not.” You murmur comfortingly, chastely kissing his jaw. “That show is a classic. Don’t let Max bully you into not liking it anymore. I love that you can appreciate good television when you see it, even if it’s Hannah Montana.”

“So you’re not leaving me?” Lando echoes Max’s words from earlier and beams with joy, putting an end to the pout he was putting on for dramatic effect.

“And let him win? Never.” You tease. “And you know why else I’m not?”

He breaks your gaze momentarily, feeling like his heart will turn to mush after you say what’s on your mind. If he’s honest with himself, it always does. “Why else are you not, Y/n?”

“Because you, Lando Norris, are one in a million. Hannah’s words.”

He sighs and smiles wide before giving you a proper kiss. It’s full of gratitude that you always play along, that you always flatter him until he’s blushing but most of all, for just being you. For never being embarrassed by him or hesitating to love him back the way he loves you, cheesy song lyrics be damned.

“Should we watch an episode?”

Lando rests his chin in the nape of your neck and caresses you gently. Moments like these are what makes the distance so agonizing, because you crave nothing more than to be with each other like this again. It’s what brings you back home to each other always, no matter what the coordinates say.

“Sure, baby.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, trusting your judgment as you scroll through the episodes. Maybe you hadn’t seen them as often as Lando had, but they were fond childhood memories you held also. “Just not the Blue Jeans one!”

You give him a puzzled look, silently asking him to refresh your memory and explain himself.

“You know, Blue Jeans. Her horse? He gets bitten by a snake and almost dies. It’s too sad, we can’t watch that one unless I’m prepared for it, which I am not.”

“But he was okay in the end right?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him!” Lando emphasizes and you can hear the stress in his voice as he recalls the memory. “I didn’t think he was gonna recover, it’s a miracle that he did.”

You hum in agreement, amused by his passion. “Don’t worry my love, there are plenty of other episodes to choose from. I know that one is sensitive for you.”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me for it?” Lando teases, lightening the mood from his depressing story about an injured horse on TV.

You pause for a few moments, pretending to weigh your options. “Build me a closet like Hannah’s and you have a deal.” Lando smirks, picturing the image instantly. It was nothing short of a fashion lover’s dream, with shoes along the walls from top to bottom and clothes displayed in a colorful carousel.

He places a kiss on your temple, and then several behind your ears and down your neck to your shoulder, drawing your attention away from the television screen and back to him. He doesn’t really have to pause and think about it. Maybe he’s not always poetic with his words, but he knows in his heart that no gesture is too grand for you. “Consider it done.”

a/n 💌: reblogs, comments & feedback is greatly appreciated! thanks for reading <3

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ F*CK THE LIST

✧.* CHAPTER 2 || Fuck The Foolish Mistakes

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A continued tale after Gojo Satoru's blackmailing seemed to have much more to it than meets the eye.

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, masturbation, pervy!gojo, tw; mentions/hints of stalking & obsession, some heinous activities, dark themes, disturbing actions, etc.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE SUMMER BEFORE everything went to shit for you was the same summer in which you and Shoko decided to move in together. For two months of break, it felt so much longer than that. It was a time in which you spent getting closer and closer to Shoko, so much so that it was only natural that you would call her one of your closest friends.

Although, said friendship seemed rather one-sided. Sure, you both got along pretty well but from what it seemed— Shoko had plenty of other friends to run to whenever she wished. So, after you realized that, you got a bit more real with yourself and dubbed her as simply your roommate. Closest friend, but roommate nonetheless.

This summer was also spent single after you’d gotten dumped a few weeks before the last semester ended. You were sad about it for a while but Shoko was there to cheer you up. Meanwhile, the other people you thought were your friends steadily started to showcase their truer colors, revealing how they never really cared too much about you to begin with and dropped you just like your boyfriend had.

Ah, whatever, that’s all old stuff anyway. It took you maybe a week to get over all that foolishness. So by the time summertime came around, you thought things would get better for you. Instead, you lost your job and that’s where your struggle began. You may have picked up one or two during your summer break but ultimately, none of them stuck long enough to trickle over to your final two semesters of school.

And as you went through such things, a certain someone was keeping track of it all like some fucking stalker. This person in question being none other than Gojo Satoru himself. Unlike you, his summer was rather pleasant. He started babysitting due to his not-so-hidden love for children, he went out a decent number of times, and he heard things about you without even asking.

Why? Because he had a wonderful friend who talked about you to no end— Gojo became very thankful for Shoko because it’s due to her that the pages of his notebook began to fill with endless entries about you. Perhaps journaling you became some kind of hobby for him.

Or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t see you as much since it was summertime so he treasured every bit of information he got on you. Why was he so hooked on noting it all down though? Was it really curiosity at this point or, was it something so much more? He’d long since labeled it as a crush but that doesn’t excuse his journaling.

Hell, at one point Gojo found himself mindlessly writing down vivid details of the way your laugh sounds— from any pitch that’s ever grazed his ears, to the number of breaths taken before and after. It was then that Gojo dropped his pencil and read over what the hell he’d written down.

His hand shot up to his forehead and his fingers went to soothe his temples, brows tensing, and eyes narrowing at his own words. Did he… Did he really just sit here and describe a woman, who he’s never spoken to, and how her laugh sounds? At the realization, Gojo had to close his journal and push it away from himself.

Sometimes, he may try to pretend like he doesn’t see any harm behind this journaling thing of his but at moments like this… He nearly creeps himself out. Imagine if you were to ever stumble upon such a thing. Gojo’s almost disgusted with himself. Not even a hi or hello has ever been spoken to you and yet here he was printing the details of that joyful sound you make when you find something humorous.

Gojo was very self-aware by that point, mentally telling himself that he needed to stop this madness and just talk to you like he craved. Maybe Suguru was right, maybe your having a boyfriend didn’t matter.

On that day, Gojo should’ve listened to his own warnings. He should’ve taken care of his own red flags right then and there.

But instead, he only got worse.

—--

Depicting the details of your laughter was one thing. But going out of his way to print out photos of you he’d found on Instagram was an entirely different level of crazy.

Okay, so perhaps this was no longer just some cute lil’ crush… Gojo doesn’t know how his… curiosity got so dark. He doesn’t know where or when it really started but at some point, he thinks he became aware that this wasn’t exactly normal. Eventually, Gojo realized this was more of an obsession— you were an obsession.

A scary one too. Even scary to himself. The mere mention of your name would make Gojo’s heart race, whenever Shoko came around smelling like you in the slightest bit, Gojo could feel his mind blur and his thoughts instantly run to you.

One time Shoko, who was just as oblivious to this as everyone else at the time, showed the man a video of you and her trying some challenge together. Gojo doesn’t remember the challenge at all or even what either of you was doing in that video but he does remember having his eyes all over you.

He remembers seeing you hug Shoko by the end of the video and the feeling that burned in his heart. Such a deep form of jealousy swirled inside him and he couldn’t understand it. He never cared about Shoko being close to you before but now, it had pained him to watch his friend have the opportunity to feel you– to talk to you.

Something that Gojo told himself he no longer deserved to do. Yeah, he knows it was even more foolish but he felt as though he should be self-punished for his strange actions in regards to you. 

Those photos that he printed of you went right into his journal, along with an entry about how he wonders what it’s like to feel your touch. He wonders what holding a full conversation with you would be like. Would you laugh at the things he says? Would you playfully hit him if he utters something ridiculous? Are your hands soft? Would they feel soft wrapped around his cock-

Yet again did Gojo find himself dropping his pencil. Though, he doesn’t know which reason was worse. The fact that he really wrote that question down or the throb he felt in his cock at the mere thought of said question. Gulping, he told himself for the millionth time that he was losing his damn mind.

So much so that he had to push his journal away and really think about what the hell he just asked. He tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh at himself. He’d lost it, hadn’t he? Thinking about you in such a vulgar way without even knowing what talking to you is like is the very definition of insanity, yes?

No, this is just his obsession. He’s not insane. But hey, maybe the two go hand and hand— maybe there’s no difference between being batshit crazy and obsessing over someone…

Either way, Gojo tries to collect himself, moving to look down at his current state only to find that his cock didn’t just throb, instead the damn thing got hard. The sight was disappointing, to say the least. Gojo stared at the outline of his dick, wondering what the hell is wrong with his body and how the fuck he got hard so damn fast. All he did was think about you…

He moves to part his legs a bit more, trying to comfort himself and deciding he was going to ignore his boner and just return to writing. Though, as he leans up and pulls his journal back toward himself, his cock aches yet again. Gojo lets out a little groan, somewhat scolding himself for being like this.

And then he manages to ignore himself for a bit longer. At least, up until he does nothing more than read your name on his page. His focus narrowed in on the letters of your name, the sound of it echoing throughout his brain before his lips parted and he let out a sound.

His hand shoots up to his face and he covers his mouth, completely confused as to what the hell he’d just done. There was absolutely no way he’d nearly moaned at your name alone. Oh this was… No, he was losing it-, not even, he’d lost it already.

Gojo steadily wiped his mouth, fingers rubbing over his jawline for a moment before he looked down to his crotch. He could now feel how stupidly wet his tip was. Was he in heat or something? How the hell did he get so horny from… reading your name? Thinking about you? Hell, he doesn’t even know where to pinpoint the cause of all this anymore.

Shaking his head, his first thought was that he was in no way going to touch himself to the thought of you. Absolutely not. Fuck no. He may be obsessed but he’s not a… actually, there’s really no word he could use to describe what he’s not right now because he pretty much checks every box for an obsessive pervert.

“Shit,” Gojo huffed, glancing over to his wide-open room door. A second passes, then two, then three before he’s standing to his feet and walking over to the door.

The man glanced out into the hall, finding no signs of Geto anywhere before he shuts his door. Then, he pauses and stares at the lock. He’s not really about to do this, is he?

…

He locks the door and rushes right back over to his seat. Gojo slouches back a little this time and his legs part, his eyes low on his hard cock resting against his thigh and how painfully it was bulging against the fabric of his clothes.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He whispers. There’s no way you’d gotten him this hard…

You and your… everything. The very idea of you made Gojo roll his hips upward, causing faint friction against his clothed cock. Then he shook his head and looked away from himself.

“Nope, I’m not doin’ this shit,” He whispered. He can’t jerk off to some girl he doesn’t even know. He shouldn’t.

It’d be different if you were some pornstar he was infatuated with, then he could jerk off to you and there’d be no issue. But when you’re his friend’s friend… it’d be so weird of him to do so.

Even if you have the prettiest face he’s ever seen. Despite your laugh leaving him in some kind of trance. Ignoring the way your voice sounds. Disregarding how kind you seem from afar. Nevermind the way you walk, the things you wear— and how the first time he saw you, you were in a skin-tight blue dress-

Gojo’s jaw drops a little, “Oh fuck,” His voice is already breathy and his hand has found its way to his aching cock, groping himself through his clothing.

He looks down at himself all over again, body hot and breath unsteady already. He swallows thickly and finally lets out a groan before moving to tug his cock out, watching how it slaps against his abdomen and letting out another heavy breath of air.

Gojo moves his hands to his thighs and just gazes at his cock for a moment, seeing how it twitches so desperately-, desperately for you, and how his tip is leaking with precum already. Hell, it look like he came already, cum leaking down along his dick so lewdly.

What would anyone think if they found him like this…

One of his hands moves to grab his journal and he flips to the page with your pictures on it. He shouldn’t do this. This is wrong-

A whine slips past his lips the second his eyes are met with your face. Then his fingers are wrapping around his shaft and he’s jerking himself off without second thought. “Fuuck,” He moans, tossing his head back with his lower lip beginning to tremble already.

His hand was working the length of his dripping cock furiously, back arching ever so slightly in pure desperation and utter need. Oh how he wished it was your hand here instead of his. Fuck, what would your mouth feel like? Hell, how are you during sex? Are you the submissive type? Would you let him have his way with you? Fuck that pretty mouth of yours like he wishes to?

Or are you the more dominant type? Would you have his legs shaking from sucking him off? You probably would. He can only imagine what your lips would look like wrapped around his cock— already wet with spit and dribbles of his cum. Your face would probably be all messy but you might like that kinda thing, right?

Gojo whines, his eyes flickering and hand not slowing for even so much as a second. Shit, your mouth is probably heavenly but what would your pussy feel like? How wet would you get for him? Would you take him all in one go? Beg him to fuck you faster?

Fuck, would you get on top of him? Take control? Ride him til’ he’s the one begging you to stop? Again, Gojo moans into the air, a few times actually. His wrist rotates as he fists his needy cock, veiny length aching for anything from you.

He wonders if you’d want him to talk you through it. Or if you’d talk him through it. Would you be mean? Nice? Fuck, his thoughts are driving him crazy. In all honesty, he’d consider himself a complete slut for you. He’d do whatever you wanted him to.

Gojo ends up shifting, moving to hunch forward as he grows a bit overwhelmed. “Fuck, fuck-,” He gasps and chokes out a whimper of your name. Would you let him be some little slut for you? Because he would be, with zero hesitation. “Fuck me,” Gojo mumbles, watching as his cock twitches in his hands.

You’d probably praise him, wouldn’t you? Tell him how good he’s doing for you, encourage him to keep going-, or maybe you’d do the exact opposite. Perhaps you would degrade him.

Gojo’s eyes roll back at the mere imagination of you ever degrading him, calling him pathetic for being like this, a slut for shamefully jerking off to you, or even a bitch-

He’s cumming before he even realizes he is, moaning and moaning after the thought of you ever calling him such a thing. He doesn’t even know why that turned him on so much, he’s never been into that kinda thing before but when it’s you, shit… he can’t even control himself.

Messing up his hand, groaning out your name, moving to stand up with shaky legs, and continuing as his cock doesn’t go down. Then Gojo looks at the picture of you again, aligning his cock with the image and stroking himself angrily. He cannot believe himself right now but it’s much too late to care.

The damage is beyond done as he starts moaning again, small whines of fuck leaving his wet lips over and over the more he stares at your picture. Then he’s thrusting his hips into his hand, moving his free hand to grab ahold of the desk in front of him as if to brace himself.

Gojo heaves as he gets himself off. Tears well up in his eyes and he just knows he sounds so stupidly desperate right now, moaning, groaning, whining, and even whimpering for you whilst he fucks his fist. Eventually closing his eyes, he imagines you there with him, mentally illustrating the way your face would twist up every time he thrusts his cock deep inside you.

He could make you feel so fucking good if you ever let him. He’d treat you so well, give you anything and everything under the sun, make sure there’s always a smile on your face, and prioritize your needs over his own at all times.

By that point, he’s chanting your name in mindless little whispers, feeling his balls ache before the tip of his cock spurts out thick and hot ropes of cum— all over that same picture he’d been staring at.

Left panting, Gojo had to deal with the aftermath of his high. His eyes were slow to open and when he realized he came all over one of his pictures of you, he was even more disgusted with himself.

It took him a moment to gather himself after his actions but when he finally does, he cleans the filthy mess he’d made of himself and that damn photo before closing his journal and putting it away— telling himself he’d never do that again.

—---

Although, his little declaration didn’t last very long. A week later and he was jerking off with you in mind yet again. The same guilt and disgust follow afterward and Gojo tells himself he needs something else to put his focus on that’s not you.

Like his job for example; babysitting. What better to put his mind on to distract him from the way his mind, body, and soul crave you so desperately?

With that in mind, Gojo started with his scheduling. As time stood, he had roughly three different kids he babysat on a regular basis, all of which were looked after separately but looked after nonetheless. The first was a girl, whose name was Nobora. She was rather bratty in Gojo’s opinion but he didn’t mind, he liked how having her around reminded him of having that of a little sister.

Then there was Megumi, a child who so clearly hates him but is forced to be around him anyway. That hatred got even worse when the kid broke his leg while on Gojo’s watch— an event in which Gojo will forever find strange because the two were at a park and he swears he looked away for two seconds only to hear screaming moments later by nearby children.

By the time he made it to Megumi, his leg was broken and Gojo was to blame.

Aside from that, the last kid that Gojo found himself watching over sometimes was Itadori Yuji. Now this, this is where things got interesting.

For starters, Gojo never understood why he was hired to watch over Yuji when the kid had a perfectly capable older brother to do so. Then again, he didn’t question it once he saw he got paid quite handsomely for it.

Sometimes Gojo went over to the Itadori residence and others he picked Yuji up. Either way, the number of times Gojo encountered Sukuna was rather slim. They only ever interacted when it was time for payments to be made. Outside of that, Gojo knew little of Sukuna (his school reputation for being a major partier aside).

Any other information he got from the man came from Yuji, who Gojo would randomly question every now and then. Though, Yuji never spoke much about his older brother— only that he’s a bit short-tempered. Given that, Gojo had no reason to think twice about their family or relations at all.

Even when Yuji would appear with a bruise or two, Gojo didn’t put two and two together until it was much too late. The first few bruises, Yuji said he got them from playing around too much and falling, to which Gojo believed since he’d seen how clumsy Yuji could be firsthand.

As such, this went on for weeks and weeks but the day Gojo finally started realizing something was up, was the same day in which he’d finally meet the consequences for his previous actions.

On that day, before Yuji was dropped off to be babysat, Gojo was busy making vows to himself. The first being that he’d finally man up and fucking talk to you. He doesn’t really know what finally came over him but he felt as though it was time. Something, perhaps the universe, told him that after today— he’d grow some balls and hold a genuine conversation with you. 

Only a few days ago had he learned from Shoko that you now resided with her so things were going to be rather easy. There was about a week and a half of summer left, giving Gojo some time to not only talk to you but also get to know you firsthand.

His self-revelation came about after he reread every journal entry he had of you, jotting down one final entry of how he planned to talk to you. It was supposed to be casual, he would ask for your number, become friends with you, and go from there based on whether or not you showed any attraction toward him.

With such plans in mind, Gojo thinks it is safe to say that his obsession is finally being tamed. He was getting in control of it after having had such lewd thoughts of you multiple times within the past month and making entries of how he was left feeling in his journal.

That may have been what his last straw was— the whole pervertedness of it all. He was getting weirded out by it himself. Maybe once he started talking to you, his obsession would completely die down. Perhaps the reality of you would help ground him from this fictional high he’s had himself on ever since his obsession was born.

Though, it seems the world finds humor in the suffering of people and Gojo was forced to learn this the hard way.

Of course, as soon as he tells himself he’s gonna clean up his act and do what’s right, his punishment shows up in the form of a person who finds joy in watching others struggle. This person is none other than Sukuna himself, who shows up at the worst time imaginable.

Amid pure stupidity and thoughtlessness, Gojo quickly found himself in a situation in which could not be undone.

—-

After babysitting Yuji for maybe two hours, there was a knock on Gojo’s front door. Yuji sat on the living room couch, watching some cartoons as he swung his feet back and forth. Gojo was in the nearby kitchen, journal in hand before he went to answer the door.

That wonderful journal of his was left sitting on the kitchen counter, right in the open for anyone to see. 

That aside, when Gojo opened his front door, he was met with Sukuna. The two barely even greeted one another before the tatted man reminded Gojo it was payment day. The transaction was meant to be done inside so, Gojo allowed Sukuna to enter the apartment.

Yuji hardly glanced over to the two men before Sukuna nodded his head back, silently telling the kid to go ahead and make his way to the car. With no argument, Yuji sighed and grabbed what little of his things before he walked over to the two, briefly said bye to Gojo, and then made his way outside.

Gojo was going to question why Sukuna let the kid go out by himself like that but, he’s made his mistakes of asking too many questions in the past and has suffered the consequences. Not wanting to deal with a mouthy Sukuna, Gojo remained quiet until Yuji was gone.

Phones were pulled out and the two men moved to make that transaction of theirs. Sukuna had strange tendencies and rules, one of them being that Yuji wasn’t allowed to be present for what Sukuna considered adult business. It was something Gojo didn’t understand but, nothing crazy to really bat an eye at.

Just before Sukuna gets ready to send the money to Gojo— something in which he requires Gojo to be present to make sure nothing goes askew, Gojo starts noticeably squirming all over the place.

Sukuna raises a brow, “Fucks wrong with you?”

“Gotta use the bathroom,” Gojo huffs out without moving from where he stands.

The pink-haired man tilts his head, “Then go use the bathroom? I’m not gonna leave without paying you so relax.”

Gojo stands there a mere moment longer, contemplating a few things. The transaction could’ve been done by now but he felt like he was two seconds away from embarrassing himself so he just let out a long sigh before running off to the nearby bathroom. Thus leaving Sukuna standing there alone.

Now, Sukuna doesn’t consider himself to be a nosy person— he could usually care less about what others had going on in their lives unless it affected or entertained him. And where Gojo’s concerned, he honestly did neither at the time. He was just Yuji’s babysitter so Sukuna didn’t see much interesting about the guy.

That was, until he took his time alone to glance around Gojo’s apartment. Sukuna’s eyes wandered, studying the plain attempts at decoration and how utterly unstructured Gojo’s apartment appeared to be. Well, aside from some spots, it was rather clear that two people were living here, one more cleanly than the other.

Even so, Sukuna remained uninterested until he spotted a single book on the nearby kitchen counter. His eyes narrowed and he found himself surprised someone like Gojo would ever pick up a book. Again, the two knew little of one another aside from whatever school reputations they had— Gojo being known as some praying fuckboy and Sukuna being known as some hotheaded party-thrower. One could’ve assumed that the two would get along considering how their interests seem to align.

With that being said, Sukuna found himself walking toward this book without a second thought. The cover was completely blank and he realized it wasn’t a book at all. It was a journal.

Intrigued, Sukuna picks it up and does nothing more than pick a page at random to see if he’d find anything amusing, perhaps something to taunt Gojo with. Y’know, something to get a laugh out of.

The very last thing Sukuna expected to see was a page with a picture of some girl on it in the middle, surrounded by rather… creepy depictions of the woman. Details on the clothing in the picture, how much it cost, where to find it, depictions of where the woman went on that day, whether or not she seemed happy or sad, how many times Gojo heard her laugh-

Sukuna found himself disturbed instantly as he skimmed over the page. Though, not enough to stop him from turning the page. It seemed that such a creepy entry was one of many. Although, the first page he saw was definitely the creepiest. What ended up becoming the cherry on top was when Sukuna read over the fact that Gojo’s never spoken to you.

At that point, Sukuna scoffed, finding Gojo nothing but a fool for writing about a woman in such a way without ever talking to her. With dates, times, etcetera, Gojo had a ridiculous number of entries on this woman, so much so that it actually left Sukuna both curious and… entertained.

So when the sound of Gojo coming out of the bathroom hits Sukuna’s ears, he doesn’t even flinch or attempt to act like he wasn’t looking through the journal. Instead, Gojo walks out of the bathroom and finds Sukuna with the item in his hands.

It was at that very second that Gojo felt his heart sink to his goddamn toes. His eyes went wide and he froze in his steps, Sukuna not even so much as glancing away from the journal in his hands.

Gojo swallowed the overwhelming lump in his throat and attempted to say something-, anything, “What-”

“My my, what a fucking pervert you are,” Sukuna hummed enthusiastically, finally flicking his maroon gaze up to a dumbfounded Gojo. “This is disgusting, really. I mean,” Sukuna glances back down and smiles, “You love this woman and you’ve never even spoken to her?”

All wide-eyed and practically speechless, Gojo fumbles for a way to explain himself, “I-”

“And you fantasize about fucking her quite often,” Sukuna scoffs, tongue seeping out to lick his lips for a moment, “I can see why but shit… You’re a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“You-,” Gojo cocks his head back and blinks, the slightest mention of Sukuna taking interest in your appearance causing him to go right back to that not-so-rational state of his. Blinded by a deep obsession toward you, Gojo is slow with his words, “...You can see why? The hell does that mean-”

“She’s sexy, I get it. I see the lil’ pictures of her you’ve put in here,” Sukuna comments nonchalantly, “And yet, what I don’t get is this uh,” He clicks his tongue and smirks, “Obsession you have with her. Especially without talking to her? That’s…” He trails off for a second, his expression fading into something Gojo can’t quite read.

Gojo gulps and again attempts to defend himself, “I know it’s weird, I… I told myself I’m going to stop-”

“When?” Sukuna interrupts, voice rough, “When you’ve already got her wrapped around your finger and refuse to let her go because of the attachment you’ve created?” He questions the man almost as if he’s speaking from… experience.

“W-What?” Gojo’s brows push together. He never had any intentions of manipulating you in any shape or form, “No, I-”

“Would you tell her how you’ve been stalking her for months-, shit maybe even years based on some of these entries?” The way Sukuna takes a step toward Gojo lets him know that something about this seems to bother the pink-haired man.

“I haven’t been stalking her, I just-”

Sukuna looks down at the open page, “‘I especially liked how happy she looked today, when she smiles, she blinks about five times and when she laughs, it doubles.’ What sane man writes this shit about a woman he’s never spoken to, huh?”

“Sukuna just…” Gojo sucks in a crisp breath of air and attempts to plead with the male in front of him, reaching his hand out for his journal, “Just pretend like you never read that a-and give me the-”

“Aht aht,” Sukuna’s quick to swat his hand away and he nearly laughs at the way Gojo frowns frustratedly, “Did you really think I wouldn’t keep this little gem? Hm? See, you must be a bit confused about how this is about to go.”

For a moment, Gojo just stares. He never imagined this would happen. Hell, he wasn’t exactly careful with his journal but the last thing he expected was for Sukuna to pick the damn thing up. Fuck, he should’ve never left it on the counter. 

He lets out a sigh and his voice is small, laced with fear, “...Are you gonna tell her?”

“Am I gonna tell her?” Sukuna simply bursts out laughing, “Ha! What do I look like to you? Some simple-minded fool? No, I’m not gonna tell her.”

Gojo lets out the most thankful sigh of relief, “Thank fuck-”

“You are,” Sukuna states.

And at those words, the room goes silent. So silent that one could hear a pin drop. Gojo felt as though his blood ran cold and Sukuna had this overly smug look on his face.

It was from there on out that Gojo was set to face the consequences of his actions.

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[oneforthemunny]

Can you do more mafia!eddie and if it’s not asking to much pregnant!reader??

ofc! here's a little blurb <3 slight smut at the end. pregnant!reader x mafia!eddie so some mafia type themes but nothing graphic. mainly fulff!

Eddie huffed, a ringed hand grabbing at his curls, buzzing with adrenaline filled nerves. His voice was beginning to shake from the tightness in his throat with every shout of your name, echoing off the walls without a response.

Panicked thoughts flashed through his mind at rapid speed, sickening what-ifs and other horrific scenarios conspired by his own mind. The damning thoughts overpowered the rational, jumping to every possible worst case scenario about what could have happened to you, to the baby, the dogs that were no where to be found as well.

Eddie was ready to give up, ready to call Gareth, command a search, a war if he had to. Frantic steps towards the phone, his hands shook when he picked up the phone, Eddie was halfway through jamming Gareth's number in when he heard a bark.

Muffled, but loud and defilingly crisp enough to know it was Diablo's. Letting the phone fall, Eddie jogged towards the back door, pulling it open with such a force the hinges groaned. His free hand on his hip, pulling his gun out, flicking the safety off in a fluid motion that was muscle memory at this point.

His eyes scanned the garden, over the pool, towards the spacious back yard, lowering his gun at the sight. The boys running around, yanking and tugging their toy, running beside you to give you their toy for you to run while you walked- marched, was more like it. Arms pumping, heavy, purposeful steps up and down the length of the backyard, not slowing to toss the toy for them to fetch.

Eddie pressed his lips together, shoving the gun back in his holster. "Baby," Eddie called, trying to keep his voice light, a coo. You were sensitive these days, the slightest quip in his tone had you in tears.

You turned, continuing your walk up the grass, knees high with every step, nearly touching your swollen stomach. You were ready to pop, baby Bea due any day now- past due, really. There were talks of a C-Section, of inducing labor if she didn't come on her own.

"Baby," He tried again, walking to meet you. The sun was starting to set, but the heat hadn't eased up.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" Eddie's voice was still tight, a forced coo to try and mask his heart that was still climbing back to a normal beat.

Vecna jumped up, letting you grab the rope toy, tossing it and sending them all running after it. "Walking." You huffed, a little out of breath from the pace. It was harder now, with a giant baby bump in your way.

Eddie swallowed a groan, taking a deep breath before jogging besides you. "Did you not hear me yelling? I was looking for you. I didn't know you went outside-"

"-I can't stay inside all day, every day, Eddie." You snapped defensively, continuing your stride, trying to ignore the burning in your back and calves. "I needed some fresh air."

Eddie bit back a huffy comment that your doctor told you to take it easy, knowing it would not be received well. Instead, he grabbed the toy from Lucifer when he brought it, flinging it far this time, trying to keep up with you in his Armani shoes.

"I know, I just couldn't find you." Eddie said, a hand reaching out to your lower back out of near instinct. "I just got worried when I couldn't find you."

You seemed to like that answer, eyes flashing and gleaming sweetly at him. A mood swing, there had never been a truer word, Eddie decided.

"I was just out here, baby." You cooed, slowing your pace, chest heaving a little, winded.

"I see that." Eddie looked at you carefully. "What are you doing? It's a little hot. Do you have a water?" He turned scanning for a cup, a water bottle, anything.

"I read that walking can get your water to break." You were nearly shuffling, eyes closed, letting your heart beat settle. You paused, looking down between your feet for anything, any sign that it had broken. "I don't think it worked." You frowned.

"She'll come when she's ready, honey." Eddie cooed, rubbing a hand on your back gently, guiding you towards the patio, desperate to get you to sit down. "You don't need to overwork yourself. It'll happen when it does."

"I'm not overworking myself." You snap, huffing with an eye roll that had Eddie flinching. Still, you let him guide you to the small patio table, settling into the cushioned chair.

"I just want her to come already." You muttered, running a hand over your swollen bump. "It feels like it's taking forever. Like she's never going to get out."

"She'll come when she's ready." Eddie snatched the water bottle of the stairs, putting it in front of you.

"She'll be here soon, sweetheart. Just don't-don't stress about it." Eddie hesitated, watching you carefully.

Your lips twitch in a snarl before bringing the bottle to your lips. Him telling you not to stress when that was quite literally all he had done felt hypocritical, but you decided against telling him that, right now, anyways.

"Maybe I should try the workout tape again." You hummed, spinning the water bottle around on the table lightly. "Or maybe you should just fuck me like the doctor said." You said bluntly.

Eddie blushed, lips twitching in a grin at your boldness. "That is not what he said."

"He said penetration." You glared at Eddie.

"He also said it could hurt you." Eddie countered. "That you're-you're softening down there or whatever-"

You rolled your eyes, scoffing loudly. "I mean, you can't fuck me mean, but you could be gentle and it would be fine." You glared at him for a moment. "But you won't because you think I'm disgusting right now."

"I do not-"

"-Clearly you do." You huffed, lip wobbling, a burning forming in your chest and throat with tears. "You won't even fuck me when the doctor is telling you to."

Eddie fought an eye roll, standing to pull you into him. Your head buried into his midsection, sniffly and furious, but allowing his affectionate touch. Another swing.

"I do not think you're hideous. I have never, not once in my life thought you were hideous, so I don't want to hear you say that anymore." Eddie's tone clipped with authority, your thighs pressing together at the sound. You'd missed it, missed him talking like this.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"-You won't-"

"-I don't want to." Eddie lifted his voice over yours, pulling back, a hand cupping your chin to bring your gaze to him. "So you have to let me know if it's hurting you. Anything."

Damn those pregnancy books. Of course he'd read them cover to cover, front to back, taking in every bit of information he could. It was endearing, really, until times like this when he handled you like you were glass.

"I will." You nodded, holding his gaze with yours. "I promise."

Eddie relented. Of course he did. Truthfully, he'd been in agony for the past few weeks, willing himself not to fuck you in fear of hurting you and the baby. The oral was good, great even, but just not as good as the real thing.

So Eddie willed himself still, hands gripping your hips, trying to support you while fighting the blinding urge to slam you on his length, when you sunk down on his cock at a painfully slow pace.

[asmimir]

Your art reminded of how the Unholy Alliance update made me go from very on the vence about Narinder to biggest Narinder defender will die in the trenches for my wife /hj

Like personally, them finally giving us the reasoning behind the Bishops attack on Narinder beyond vague prophecy changed a lot of the context behind the situation

And while, yes, the intentions behind his actions of resurrecting followers and his opinion on his new find extreme popularity were left quite vague (and why I don't if someone still interprets Narinder as the one mainly/equally at fault). It still doesn't change how it was a betrayal out of the Bishops fear of a possible betrayal. He wasn't conquering and overtaking them, he wasn't actively starving them, they just feared that possibility that he would.

It gets even more fucked up when you remember that all the Bishops ran their faiths by gifting and blessings their followers with the opposite of their domains (food, heath, etc) so Narinder actions where probably completely normal thing to do as a god of death in his mind, like.

In my fucked up fantasies (aka my interpretations of the canon), Narinder was only truly in the wrong when they asked the Lamb to sacrifice themselves. But getting into even more personal headcanons territory, for him it was likely just the natural/necessary think to do. He's a god of death that gave this little mortal life so they could do his bitting (that included them doing their own sacrifices, depending on your own gameplay), them sacrificing themselves was likely a given for him. Probably didn't consider that the Lamb would mind it, like, sacrificing yourself for your god just another tuesday in the life of a follower of death aint I right

So in conclusion, narilamb before post-game was a classic case of doomed yaoi/hurt people hurt people. Narinder asked the sacrifice-survivor to be sacrificed once again and the Lamb betrayed the one who was betrayed in return (pun half-intended)

(Really sorry for the ramble, it's almost midnight in my country and your art plagued me with thoughts. Hope you at least liked reading my deranged screams, I mean, my interpretations of the story. If you didn't, again, Im truly sorry. But Im still interested in your own thoughts regardless, so yeah... feel free to share??? I don't know how to phrase that in a good way, again, its almost midnigh)

no truer words have been said

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

My Girls - Max Verstappen

<word count - 4,848>

"Y/N, liefde, go. We will be fine," Max said, trying to push you out of the door for your first day back at work since Aleta had been born. You hadn't left her before, and it wasn't like you didn't trust Max because he was a brilliant dad, but you were already getting separation anxiety. 

Christian had told you to take all the time you needed, but you decided it was time to go back or else you didn't think you ever would. Max tried to get you to you to quit your job and become a full time mum, but you didn't want to and he respected that.

As he shoved you out of the door, you turned over your shoulder to see your beautiful baby girl bouncing in her carrier with a gummy smile on her face. You knew she'd be fine, but you didn't want to go. "You're going to be late," he tried to convince you as you stood on your doorstep.

"I know, but one more cuddle won't hurt," you said, trying to lunge past him to no avail. Max grabbed you and picked you up, walking you down the stone path to the car. All three of you had gone back to the UK so that you could carry on working, and Max would still be flying around for races. 

"I love you, and I will see you later," he smiled, kissing you quickly and opening the car door. Begrudgingly, you clambered into the car, started the engine, and pulled away before you had the chance to turn back. 

Max sighed once you had gone, glad that you were getting out of the house for a bit. When he was sure you had definitely gone and not turned around, he headed back in the house to check on little Aleta, who was still bouncing about in her carrier. 

"OK princess, we have some work to do," he said, picking up the infant as she flashed him a toothless smile and gargled happily. It shocked him how much he loved the little person, and he didn't believe it when people said that you love your child in a special way. Now, nothing seemed truer and purer that the bond between parent and child. 

—

Walking through the doors to the Red Bull HQ, you instantly felt at home in the building. The people smiled fondly at you, and almost everyone asked how Aleta was doing and you proudly showed off pictures of her.

It took you around an hour to actually get to your office, but you were glad to be back once you had settled in. You walked through the door to see a huge bouquet of pink flowers perched brightly on your desk. 

The note read, 'Dear Y/N, we hope you've enjoyed your time off and are well rested, and we all hope to meet Aleta sometime soon! It is brilliant to have you back - Christian and the Team'. By the side of the flowers, was a framed photo of you, Max and Aleta that you had taken a few days after she was born. 

A few tears stung your eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and you pushed the frame to the side of your computer so that you could always look at it and have it there. 

You smiled at the note and the kind gesture, but you quickly got back to work, planning some challenges for Max, Checo and (new recruit) Daniel to do before the opener in Bahrain. As you were brainstorming, there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" you shouted, expecting it to be Christian since he said he would pop over to your office at some point in the day. "Hi," someone curtly said, closing the door behind them. That voice was familiar - and painfully so. 

"Get out, Scott," you bitterly spat, glaring at him over the top of your computer screen. The sight of him made your blood boil. You didn't feel hurt anymore, because Max had patched up the cracks that he had left in your heart. You just felt anger towards the pathetic excuse of a man that stood before you. 

"Can we just talk?" he sheepishly asked, approaching the desk and lifting the photo frame from it. Before you could snatch it off him, he got a good look at the perfect daughter he had abandoned. "Don't you dare," you scoffed, plucking the picture out of his hand and setting back on your desk. 

"Can I see her?" he asked, and the question just pissed you off more. 

"You lost the right to see her the moment you told me to get rid of her," you coldly said, fidgeting in your seat. You couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't hit him if he came nearer, so you stayed in your seat. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, and you found it rather amusing. 

Lifting your hand up to scratch your head, Scott spotted the ring on your finger glinting under the office lights. "So you're marrying him?" he half scoffed half asked, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. 

"Yes, I am," you dead-panned, waiting for someone to walk by so you could send them to Christian's office. "How the hell could you marry him after what? 5 months?" 

"Well 5 months was a hell of enough time to realise that he's a whole lot better than you could ever be. Max cared about me when you didn't have any fucks to give. Max took care of me when you left me by myself. Max loves our child more than you ever could," you yelled at him, losing your cool completely. 

"How do you know when you won't give me a chance!" He shouted back, squaring up to you as you got out of your chair. "You didn't give me a chance, did you Scott? You told me to get rid of her and forget about it," you spat back at him.

"This is me giving you a chance, Y/N," he said, and you couldn't believe the audacity of him. He decided to show up, nearly a year too late to try and right the wrong he had made. But, no apology would ever be enough. "You can stick your chance up your ass," you scoffed, seeing people gathered outside of the door as they had opened it to see what was happening.

"He isn't her father," 

"Max was there for the scans, through the morning sickness, through the moodwings, through the late nights. Where were you?" you asked as he realised that people were there and listening. Scott stood there, wide eyed in surprise. 

"Where the fuck were you, Scott?" you asked again as more people appeared in the doorway. Before he had chance to answer, Christian walked through the door. "Scott, my office, now," he instructed, and Scott scampered away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

"Y/N, someone will come for you shortly," your boss said, ushering all of the people away from your office. You felt bad for letting that unfold how it did in an office environment, but there was no chance you were letting him speak to you like that.

While you waited for someone to come through, you tried to focus on your work, but your mind always wandered to Scott and how much of a dick he was. After around half an hour, Christian's secretary came through and told you to go to his office. 

There was no point in knocking as the door was already open and he waved you in. "So, tell me what happened,". You smirked in your head - this was going to be good. 

"So, I was doing my work, Scott knocked and I told him to come in because I didn't know who it was. He asked if we could talk, and I said no because this is not the right place to do that. He saw that I was engaged and asked how I could marry Max after the short time we have had together. He asked if he could see Aleta, I said no, then he asked for a chance and I started arguing with him. I am at fault, because I did argue back instead of being mature, so I apologise for that," you said. 

"I shouldn't have allowed him to rile me up like that, especially at work, and I am so sorry you are having to waste your time doing this," you apologised, a small part of you terrified that you were going to lose your job. 

"To start, thank you for being honest with me, it makes this a lot easier. Secondly, I appreciate that this situation is difficult, but that is not a reason to have fights like that in the office. However, we have decided to let Scott go," he said, and you worried even more. 

Even if Max did want you to stay at home, getting fired was not the way he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be on your terms. "But we can't cope without you and this wasn't really your fault, so you're safe... For now," he joked, and you let out the air you had been holding in your lungs as he spoke. 

"Thank you, Christian. Again, I am really sorry," you said, standing and going back to your office. The rest of the day went by without a hitch, and you were free to drive home. 

—

"Right Leta, do we think mommy wants steak or chicken?" Max cooed at the infant as she sat in her carrier on the floor of the butchers. Of course, she didn't understand, but she gargled along just because it was her daddy talking to her.

"Yeah, I think she'd prefer steak too," he said, and the burly butcher behind the counter couldn't help but smile warmly at the pair. "Which steak are you thinking of?" he asked as Max turned to face him. "The best ones you have," he said. 

Max paid for the steaks and headed to their next destination. Now, this one was a bit of a peculiar stop, but you had burned up your entire store of them and the evening wouldn't be complete without at least one. 

When he walked into the store, he was washed over with a wave of different scents of floras. He looked around, each section labelled something different. After sniffing pretty much every candle the store had to offer while also being asked by the staff of he needed help multiple times, he was torn between two different scents.

"OK schatje, what do we think of fresh cotton?" he asked, holding the candle in front of Aleta. Did she have a clue what was going on? Absolutely not, but she was just smiling because Max was pulling funny faces at her. 

"I like your thinking, Lita, I like it," he said, picking up the rose scented candle and giving it a sniff. He held it out to Aleta, and she was just smiling because it was pink. "Yeah, I think this is the one as well. Good choice," he smiled at her, thinking he was going crazy since he was talking to a baby like she could understand.

He finally had everything he needed, and took Aleta home so that she could take a nap. Thankfully, she was a really easy baby when it came to falling asleep, so that didn't take longer than 10 minutes as she was tired after her big day.

Now, it was time for him to get to work. As the potatoes were boiling, Max headed upstairs and got extra dressed up in a suit to really make the night special. 

Just as everything was finished, he heard your car pull up onto the driveway and he stood in position by the dinner table. You trudged up the driveway with the bouquet of flowers from Christian in hand.

When you opened the door, you were greeted with the sight of the kitchen, lit up with candles and the table was all set up nicely. Walking through, you spotted Max stood there, looking handsome as ever. "What's this?" you asked, taking in the scene around you. 

"Nothing, I felt like treating you tonight," he smirked, walking towards you and taking the flowers off of you, "Who are these from?"

"Christian," you said.

"I'll put these in a vase," he said, taking them over to the sink to put some water in the container. "I'll go and get changed, give me a minute," you said. 

"No, you look perfect," 

"Max, I want to blend in," you laughed, running upstairs and dashing to the wardrobe. You flung your work clothes off and picked out the fanciest dress that you had here. You had more back in Monaco, but you brought a few home with you. 

You walked back downstairs, the soft pink fabric pooling around your feet. "You looked amazing before, but wow," he stuttered, pulling your chair out for you. 

"Thank you, darling," you smiled, sitting down and getting comfy at the table. Max brought out the first course before taking a seat himself. "So, how was work?" he asked, desperate to know how your first day had gone.

"Well, I missed the two of you so much it was unreal. I've planned some very fun things for you, Checo and Daniel to do, so look forward to that. Oh, and Scott got fired," you added quickly on the end. You really didn't want to tell him about the argument because you knew he'd get annoyed. 

"What did he do?" Max asked. Scott was a very good mechanic, to be fair to him, so there must have been some reason that he was fired, and he had a feeling you were involved. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to hide the obvious fact that you were lying. 

"He was a perfectly good mechanic, he must have done something wrong," Max explained, and you could tell by the smug look on his face that he knew he was right. "We just had an argument, it was nothing," you shrugged, hoping he would move past it.

"Has to have been more than nothing if he got fired for it," Max pressed, waiting for you to tell him everything. He knew you would, it would just take a bit of pushing. "He was just asking about Aleta," you told him.

"What did you say?" 

"He asked about Aleta and he said he wanted to see her, I told him not a chance, then he saw we were engaged and went batshit nuts," you deadpanned, hoping he wouldn't ask about how he went nuts. Max would be pissed off. 

"What do you mean nuts?" he asked. Well there goes those hopes. 

"He started banging on about how you aren't her real father and this and that," you said, and you sheepishly watched as his face contorted into anger, near on rage. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" he half-shouted, before quietening down when he remembered that Aleta was upstairs asleep. 

"Max, it's fine, we won't have to see him ever again," you tried to calm him down, but you could see his blood was boiling as much as yours was when Scott came in and yelled at you. "He doesn't have the right to say those things to you," he seethed, putting his knife and fork down. 

"Darling, don't worry about it, really," you said, as it looked like Max was accepting the fact that there was nothing he could do that wouldn't damage his career. "I just can't believe the nerve," he said, resuming his food. 

Finally, the two of you had finished dinner completely and you were just gazing at each other across the table. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate it," you smiled, looking into his eyes. So blue and so calming. 

"You deserve a hell of a lot more, but this is the best we can do with a newborn," he replied, taking your hand from across the table. You didn't exchange any words, Max just stood up, and you followed suit. 

He led you over to the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Yes, it was sudden, but that didn't mean it was unwelcomed. "I have missed this," he mumbled against your lips, before capturing your lips with his. 

You tangled your hands in his hair as the kiss deepend. Your hands snaked to the top buttons of his shirt as you fiddled with them. Just as you had undone the top few buttons, a loud cry sounded out through the house. 

"For fucks sake," you mumbled, but your small amount of anger was quickly dissipated and replaced by a need to take care of your daughter. You clambered off Max's lap and up the stairs, into Aleta's room. 

"Hey, sweetheart," you softly said to your crying daughter as you scooped her up in your arms. Pressing her to your chest and bouncing back and forth with her. "Shhh," you shushed the infant, hoping she would calm down and you could take her downstairs. 

"You can't be hungry," you sighed, trying to imagine what could be the matter with her. You checked her nappy, but that wasn't the issue. Wandering over to the rocking chair in the corner, you sat down and gently rocked back and forth. 

"I know sweetheart, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back as she slowly quietened down. After around 10 minutes, it seemed like she had calmed down and she had decided that she didn't want to scream the house down.

"Oh Leta you can be a handful," you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the top of her head. She was sprouting some fine, blonde hairs and you could have easily believed she was Max's with her hair and big blue eyes. 

As you rocked back and forth in the chair, you felt your eyelids become droopy and heavy as the weight of Aleta on your chest relaxed you. "I'll just nap for twenty minutes," you mumbled, letting sleep carry you away to a peaceful numbness. 

Max sat downstairs, missing the feeling of his lips on yours and the feeling of your hands running through his hair. The crying had stopped a while ago, so he didn't understand why you hadn't come downstairs yet. 

He figured you were just having a snuggle with her as it was your favourite way to spend time. Max had allowed you a few more minutes, but he wasn't hearing any signs of you coming back. He skipped up the stairs and quietly opened the door.

The only light from the room was the small, warmly coloured light that the lamp next to the rocking chair emitted. The light cast a shadow onto the figure of you, with Aleta snuggled up to your chest as the chair still lightly rocked. 

He couldn't help but smile to himself, the sight of pure perfection itself sitting right in front of him. You looked like something right out of a fairy tale: his queen holding the heir to the throne of their carefully crafted kingdom. 

You and Aleta were everything to him, and he would give up every championship, every podium, every trophy for the pair of you. You were his girls, and you were perfect. 

Checking the time, he realised that it was already half past eight, so he accepted that you were very tired as you had had a long day. "Liefde, come on," he gently shook you awake, careful not to wake up Aleta in the process. 

"Huh?" you sleepily murmured, not fully able to see Max until your eyes had adjusted. Aleta was pulled away from your chest, leaving your skin exposed to the cold of the room. "Max, give her back," you whined, closing your eyes and holding your arms out for her to be put back in. 

"Come on, you're coming to bed," he said as he made sure Aleta was safe and comfortable in her cot. "But I was comfy," you complained to him. You had to stifle a squeal of surprise as Max hoisted you up into his arms and walked you across the hall to the bedroom. 

He dropped you down on the bed, walking over to the wardrobe and plucking out one of his shirts from the hangers. "Can I take this off?" he asked, even though he knew the answer was going to be yes. You nodded, before the entirety of your dress was slipped over your head and thrown to the floor.

The soft t-shirt replaced it, and you wasted no time shuffling under the covers and shifting into a comfortable position. Max was wrapping his arms around you in no time, hands mindlessly trailing up and down your stomach. 

A part of him had been wanting to ask if you were open to a second child with him, maybe in two or so years time. He thought he'd let you get settled in married life combined with parenthood before he sprang that on you. 

He had already asked you two life changing questions when Aleta was born, so he thought he'd hold off for a while. 

—

Today was the big day. The day you had been waiting for your whole life. The day you would marry the man of your dreams. 

It had been exactly a year and three months since Aleta had been born and Max had proposed to you in the hospital. You had created so many memories together, and you hoped to create many more in the years to come. 

For now, it was time to focus on the moment and embrace the space you were in. As you stood at the altar, looking as stunning as ever in your flowing white gown, you gazed around the room to see everyone you loved, all gathered in one place. 

Aleta had done a brilliant job of being flower girl with Max's sister Victoria, and you couldn't help but cry a few happy tears as you watched on from the doors. Once all of your bridesmaids were stood in their places, it was your turn in the spotlight.

Max was stood there, eyes glazed over with tears of joy, looking incredibly handsome in his suit. It was like a light flashed before your eyes and you were there, his hands in yours as the officiary spoke unintelligible words to you. 

The noise was cancelled out by the bubble that entrapped you and Max. The pair of you had been through a lot, and now, you could leave all of that behind and carry on with life, together. Side by side. 

"And now, we will allow these two to share their vows with each other. Max, would you like to start?" Max nodded, and shifted where he stood.

"Y/N, liefde, the love of my life. I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for letting me into your life when you were most vulnerable, and it made a lot more sense to push me away rather than let me in. Thank you for letting me love you, because it is the thing that keeps me going when times get tough," he started, and tears were already forming in your eyes. 

"Finally, thank you for letting me be a father to Aleta, because it is the best thing I will ever get the honour of doing. I am so grateful that I am able to be stood here with you, because I may be a racing driver professionally, but above all of that, I am a husband and a father to the most beautiful girls in the world. It doesn't matter how many trophies I get, because none of them will mean half as much to me as the two of you do."

Now the tears were flowing like salty waterfalls, and you didn't want to go next. "You just had to make it hard for me, didn't you?" you laughed, the audience chuckling along with you. "Max. Being stood here with you today was something I didn't think would ever be possible. I was alone, I was scared, I was struggling. But then, there you were, like a beacon through the darkness that lit up my world,"

It was Max's turn to cry now, and you saw a few tears slip down his rosy cheeks, "You were there for me when nobody else was, and you gave me everything I have ever dreamed of and more. There is no one else that I would want to raise Aleta side by side with, and I will forever be in your debt for that. You are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbows, my sunshine on a rainy day, my everything. I know that, with you, I can do anything and everything," 

There was not a dry eye in the house, and you were finally pronounced husband and wife. He held you as the pair of you skipped down the aisle, the world beneath your feet. 

As you waited behind the doors to the reception room for your introduction as Mr and Mrs Verstappen, Max took your hand. "This is the second best day of my life," he smiled, squeezing your hand lovingly. "And the first?" you asked, but you knew what it was. It was the same for you as well.  

"The day our angel was born," he smirked as the music started and everyone was cheering. You clapped along with them, taking your spot on the dancefloor. 'Can't Take my Eyes off You' by Frankie Valli sounded out through the hall.

He held his hands on your waist as your arms linked around his neck. As you swayed to the song, your friends and family shed a few more tears of happiness at the sight of you, and there was no wiping the ecstatic smile off your face. 

Max had an equally goofy smile plastered on his lips, and he never wanted to let go of you. "Ik hou van je," he lightly laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I love you too," you smiled against him. Max let you go and spun you around, your dress and hair fanning out all around you. As you were brought back to him, he detached himself from you and quickly dashed over to Victoria, who was holding Aleta. 

He plucked your daughter out of his sister's arms and brought her over to you. He laced his other arm around you as you swayed with Aleta, who was giggling along happily. "I needed both of my girls here," he said, making your heart swell even more - despite the fact that you didn't think that was possible. 

Aleta was looking all pretty in her little pink dress and her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. She was making some happy noises as the three of you twirled around the dancefloor. 

You took her off Max, wanting to dance with your daughter. Holding Aleta in one arm, Max spun the pair of you with the other as she let out fits of high pitched giggles. As if life couldn't get any more perfect. 

Max brought you back into his chest, Aleta resting comfortably on your hip. She had been making sounds of squeals and laughs, but then she said something.  Max looked at you for a moment, confirming that he had actually heard what you had. 

You nodded at him wearily, not completely sure. "Dadda," she said, louder this time. 

"I'm not hearing things, am I?" you asked, looking at Max's dumbfounded expression with a stupid happy smile on your face. "I don't think I-"

"Dadda," she repeated, but with a lot more confidence. 

"Oh my god I am so proud of you, my clever girl!" Max exclaimed, pulling the pair of you closer to him and kissing all over her face. She kept on repeating the word, and it sounded better each time. "That's me," Max cried, his voice cracking.

"Yes it is, darling," you responded. For the rest of the night, Aleta was showing off how clever she was to everyone in the reception. As the night drew on, people eventually started retiring to their rooms, and Aleta had gone to bed a few hours ago since it had been a long night for her. 

"You tired?" Max whispered in your ear, lazily slinging an arm around your waist. Less people were dancing, and more people were sitting around, idly sipping at the remnants of their drinks.  "Yeah," you confirmed, resting a tired head on his shoulder. 

"I hope you're not too tired," he smirked, gripping you tighter. 

"I think we could head back to our room early," you mumbled, before making your rounds and saying goodbyes. As soon as you could, the pair of you ran out, hand in hand, skipped up the stairs, and stumbled into your hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other. 

Now, you officially had forever ahead of you, and you had your favourite people all around you. 

A/N - Do we want a bit more? Because I have more planned...

Tag List! (The wonderful people who commented on the last part <;3) @inkfablesandstories @luckyladycreator2 @rd14 @basicallyherondale @purplephantomwolf @halaxxxx @giffywiffy3408 @hauntingtherosebush @rosalysaoirse @mehrmonga @itsmytimetoodream @aundercover @glow-ish @hc-dutch @jorbridgerton1

|masterlist|

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Is It Casual Now? (Part 1) - Jennifer Jareau

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Reader overhears a conversation between JJ and Morgan and wonders what she is to JJ.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I’ve been listening to Casual by Chappell Roan too much lately and this is what happens when I do that. This is an AU where JJ and and Will are divorced, no cheating occurs.

TW: established relationship, angst, fem reader, typical cm case description, proposal

Rating: PG

——

“Yeah it’s nothing serious, we’re just keeping things casual.” It slipped so easily off her tongue, like there were never truer words said.

“I think I might be rubbing off on you JJ.” Morgan shot her an approving smirk.

Static filled your ears, completely muffling whatever crossword hint Spencer had been going on about.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You mumbled, standing from your desk and walking quickly to the bathroom as you fought back tears. You know she wanted to keep things between the two of you quiet but you still couldn’t believe what you had just heard.

The door shut loudly behind you and the dam broke, tears rolling down your red cheeks.

You held your face in your hands for a moment, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down, but the mix of anger and sadness grew into a pit in your stomach.

After a few minutes you pulled yourself together, wiping your tears before looking in the mirror, bloodshot eyes staring back.

How could she say something like that? You knew when you started this that Jennifer wasn’t the most open to commitment, and you was okay with that in the beginning, but month after month she invited you deeper and deeper into her life. You know things that she’s never told anyone else, she built that trust between you without you asking for it.

You did what you could to touch up your makeup before returning to the bullpen, just as Garcia called the team in to brief you on the new case. You trailed behind the group, nervously straightening your skirt to distract yourself until JJ took her seat. You took one on the opposite side of the table, across from your usual spot next to her. She glanced at you, her puzzled look turning to one of concern when she presumably noticed the redness around your eyes. You broke eye contact, turning to face Penelope as she started introducing the details of the case. Truthfully you hadn’t been able to pay too much attention, you caught something about a double homicide, unsub targeting unmarried couples, staging their bodies as if in an embrace. It all felt a little too on the nose.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch repeated his usual mantra, dismissing the group to get ready for our flight.

You walked quickly out of the room, focusing on not tripping in your heels while hoping to avoid having to discuss anything with JJ right now. Her hand met your shoulder and you knew your escape plan had failed.

“What is up with you?” She asked, just above a whisper. You could hear the stress in her voice but you were having a hard time cutting her slack right now.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Y/N, I know you, what’s wrong?” She grew slightly more agitated, eyes scanning yours. She could read you like a book, but you were not going to discuss this here.

“I’ll tell you when we land.” You were short with her, abruptly turning to break from her grasp, leaving to grab your go bag out of your car.

20 minutes later the team boarded the jet, and you took a seat at the table with Emily and Derek.

“Listen sugar, you know I like to see your pretty face anytime I can, but I have to know, what is going on between you and J?” Morgan joked, getting straight to his point.

“Nothing, we’re good.” You tried to lie, but with a team full of profilers, that’s not exactly easy.

“Really? The two of you are usually attached at the hip.” Emily added, her and Morgan exchanging a glance.

“Yeah, I just wanted a change of pace.” You smiled at the two of them reassuringly, pulling out the book you were reading before settling further into my seat and losing yourself in the pages.

When we landed you felt yourself shift into autopilot, going through the motions of setting up at the local precinct and pairing up with Prentiss to interview the witnesses and family members.

When the day was through the team headed to the hotel, Hotch handing out the room assignments. You knew this was coming, JJ and you always roomed together even before you started seeing each other, you were best friends before all of this and it was just routine at this point. You unlocked the door to the room, dropping your bag on the dresser and hurrying to undress and get in the shower as quickly as possible, partially to wash the grime of the day off, and partially to avoid JJ who you knew was only a couple minutes behind you.

As the warm water rushed over your skin you heard the door open and shut, followed by her footsteps nearing the bathroom door. Knock knock.

“You can’t avoid me forever.” Her voice rang from the other side of the door. You ignored her, taking your time scrubbing yourself down before rinsing off and wrapping a towel around your frame. You braced yourself for a moment before finally exiting the bathroom. Your footsteps stopped right outside the door, leaving ample space between the two of you. JJ sat on the edge of her bed, sending a text before tossing the phone onto the nightstand beside her.

“You said you’d tell me what was wrong when we landed, you’ve avoided me the whole day. Please tell me what is going on.” She seemed genuinely concerned, that gloss over her eyes that only appeared when she was on the verge of tears starting to form. Seeing her like that had you choked up before you could even open your mouth. You thought you wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, but now you were regretting that more than ever. You never wanted to hurt her, even if the uncertainty was killing you.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You blurted out, the words catching in your throat as tears threatened your waterline.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, panic in her voice.

“I know we agreed to keep things casual but I can’t do it anymore, I’m in love with you.” Your voice cracked, a tear slipping down your cheek as your hands anxiously gripped at the edge of the towel wrapped around you.

“Babe, where is this coming from?” Your confession caught her off guard but not for the reasons you thought.

“The conversation you had with Derek this morning, you told him what we have was just casual.” You choked out, your body practically vibrating with emotion.

“That’s what this is about? You have to know I wasn’t serious, I was just trying to stop Morgan from prying any further.” She stood, taking quick steps to close the space between you two.

“I didn’t know if you’d want the rest of the team to know about us, I didn’t even know if you’d want there to be an official ‘us’ considering how this started, this is my fault.” Her tone grew more frantic, you rarely saw her this panicked.

“Stop.” Your voice was still shaky but you tried to be as firm as possible to snap her out of it. It worked, her expression going blank as she waited for you to speak.

“I need to know if you’re serious.” You finally calmed yourself, the rational part of your brain taking over.

“I am, I promise. This whole time I thought I’d never be able to commit to one person, but you have changed everything I thought I knew about myself. I love you.” She slowly wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Her tone was soft, almost breathy as she brought her face closer to yours, your lips almost brushing.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, you’d waited years to hear her say those words whether you were conscious of it or not, and now that it was happening you felt love-drunk.

“Marry Me.” You whispered, almost too afraid to say it.

“You mean it?” She asked, searching your eyes for any hint of doubt.

“Yes.” You were never more sure of anything you’d ever said in your life.

“Of course I will.” Her lips crashed into yours in a blur of passion and pain and years of built up tension finally being released. You could hardly breathe, having to remind yourself to do so in the heat of the moment.

——

Part 2 can be found here

Tag List: @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my Jennifer Jareau or general taglist :)

[milliesfishes]

Omg Billy request! The scene where Billy is slipped the hairpin to get out of jail but it’s reader who is distraught as he’s being taken away but she kisses him and gives it to him and he’s like my smart girl😭 and then when he gets home after breaking out and she’s made him cookies or something waiting for him because she has so much faith in him she knew he’d find a way out

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly gets arrested౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Mornings with Billy were the heaven you'd long spent your life searching for.

"Pretty girl," Billy murmured, tracing the shape of your face and kissing your brow gently. His lips pressed to your cheek, your nose, your chin, your jaw-wherever he could reach.

You giggled lightly, nuzzling his chest and kissing him right over his heart. "Good morning to you too."

He laid on his side, grinning and blinking at you tiredly. "Mornin'," he whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

Shifting closer, you latched onto him, pushing him to lie on his back so you could snuggle up against his chest. Chuckling, he slid one hand to the inside of your knee, pulling your leg to rest over his. "Cuddlebug."

Wrinkling your nose slightly, you looked up at him. "Bug?"

"Yeah, sugar," he smiled, kissing your nose again. "Like a ladybug."

"Mm, I do like ladybugs," you smiled again, and he nudged his nose against yours.

"See? There ya go, honey," he murmured, bundling you in his arms all cozy. "Everythin' I tell you that you are is in the prettiest way possible. Remember that f' me, baby."

Eyes alight with happiness, you tilted your chin up, puckering your lips slightly. He breathed a laugh, pecking you once, then twice, then drawing you in for a longer kiss that left you swooning.

Billy had ridden into town and stolen your heart as quickly as the stars appeared in the sky at dusk. He found you one night at the saloon, as you were ordering a shot of whiskey wearing your prettiest dress. You'd been meeting friends that night, but little had you known you'd be finding a love truer than anything you'd known before.

He swept you off your feet in every sense of the phrase, and before you knew it you were wearing his hat and sitting across his knees while he played poker. You loved the feeling of being so utterly his. Of having him to be yours.

Although he was running from a past he wanted to forget, you did your best to make it safe for him. There was trouble behind him, but you swept it all away, assured him he was good, through and through. That he was loved.

Trouble seemed to follow him though- that was the problem.

It had been a complete accident. He had been getting the two of you drinks at the bar, when suddenly he'd fallen into conversation with an older man. You hadn't heard what had been said, but before you knew it, there was a clatter, and then Billy was on the floor with him, fists flying, rolling around.

You stood, eyes wide, trying to see what was going on. There was a hum of chatter in the bar, and you tried to move forward. Another man blocked your path, saying, "Let 'em work it out. Someone'll step in if-"

His words were cut off by a gunshot and you gasped, hand flying to your mouth. The room went dead silent as Billy stumbled to his feet, a look of dumbstruck horror in his eyes. When he looked up, it was at you, and you saw the desperation on his face. The need. He needed you.

Rushing forward, you skirted the body on the floor, no longer breathing. Hands framing his face, you forced him to look at you, thumbs stroking his face. "Billy...Billy, look at me...Billy..." But you were already losing him to whatever was in his head, to the demons that crawled within.

He grasped your wrists, shaking his head, eyes falling away from yours. "Darlin'-" he choked.

"It was an accident Billy," you assured him, nodding in return. "An accident. You did nothing wrong."

Seeing that he was growing despondent, you reached one hand down, squeezing his fingers. "Come on...come on. Let's go home."

"The...the body-" he managed, and you shook your head.

"His friends will take care of it. Here-" you tugged on his hand, guiding him outside. Somehow you got him through the streets, leading Billy right inside the door of your home. Once he was on your bed, you sat beside him, removing his hat and setting it away.

Taking his face in your hands, you let one comb through his hair, soothingly you hoped. The other thumbed his cheek over the stubble. He was staring at the wall, stiff toward your movements.

"My love," you whispered, pulling his head to rest on your shoulder. "Billy...please talk to me."

He finally turned his head to face you, and you could see the tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. They were somehow bluer now that he was about to cry.

"Oh Billy," you whispered, and one crystal teardrop slid from his eye. You pulled him into you, lying down flat on your bed. He buried his face in your chest, his tears soaking the front of your dress.

You held him like that all through the night, whispering quiet things to him; promises that it was going to be okay, that he was still a good man. It had truly been an accident. But you knew your man. He took it internally, blamed himself for every little thing.

The next morning, he was arrested.

It had been so sudden- you'd been holding his hand, out in the market when he'd been seized, locked into handcuffs and marched down the street. You'd hardly had the time to say even a word to him.

You panicked, chest hurriedly moving up and down. Billy was getting further from you, about to be locked up for an accident.

Thinking fast, you yanked a pin from your hair, shoving it in your mouth. Running forward, pushing through the crowd, you caught up to them. In a quick motion, you grabbed Billy by the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Relieved when he parted his lips, you used your tongue to slide the pin from your mouth to his. He made a tiny noise of surprise but you silenced him, nail scraping the side of his face. His lips pressed to yours, kissing you with all the fervor he could manage with his hands bound.

Unsurprisingly, he was pulled off you, the officer pushing him down the path. Billy tossed one wide-eyed look at you, and all you could do was stand there helplessly, watching as your lover was taken away.

You could only hope what you'd done would help him.

When he was out of sight, there was nothing to be done except to go home and sit pretty. You hated the fact that he was in jail and you were away from him, unable to help further.

Eventually you were forced to find something to occupy yourself with. Simply worrying would do no good. So, standing up, you went into the kitchen to start making cookies. If Billy came home, he'd be happy to have something homeade.

As you mixed and stirred, your faith in him gained legs, growing and standing on tiptoes to reach the sun. Billy was smart, and he was capable. He would use your helping hand and escape, and if not he would find some other way to do so. Either way he would come home to you.

When he finally did it was nearly nightfall, and you'd just taken the final batch of cookies out of the oven. Humming to yourself, you plated them and sat down at the kitchen table, running a finger up and down your face and closing your eyes.

Then you heard the door open and shut, and you hurriedly got to your feet. Eyes glued to the doorway of the kitchen, your heart jumped for joy when he strode through, looking a little messy and tired but oh your Billy was home!

You ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. His gun belt dug into your bottom, but you hardly cared, too excited that he had returned. Burying your face in his neck, you murmured, "I knew you could do it. I knew you'd come back."

"My smart girl," he cooed, stroking your hair. "You're the reason I got outta there, sweetheart. Oh I love you so much."

"I couldn't do nothing," you whispered, pulling back and looking at him. "I love you...I always want to be there for you."

Billy's face split into a smile, and he leaned in to kiss you, lips moving gently against yours. He rested one hand on your cheek, the other arm wrapped tight around your waist, securing you.

When he pulled back, he whispered, "My girl...breakin' me outta jail. Atta girl."

You giggled, moving forward to kiss him once more, elated to be back in his arms where you belonged. He whirled you around, sitting on the chair you'd previously occupied with you in his lap. Hands on your hips, Billy started kissing you all over your face, murmuring soft words in between.

"Baby...m' baby...m' best girl..." he caught your lips for a long minute. "I love ya so much, sweetheart. More 'n anything."

Settled into that space of time, you made him feel loved through what you'd done for him. And as he kissed you and told you how proud he was of you, you felt loved too.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 10

The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!

Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.

He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.

Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.

When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.

While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?

But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.

Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.

She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.

It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.

He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.

Well not the Party.

And it did it really matter what strangers thought?

More than Steve would ever admit out loud.

****

They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.

“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”

“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”

“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”

Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”

Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.

He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.

But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.

Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.

He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.

He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.

But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.

The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.

Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.

He still hadn’t seen Eddie.

Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.

“Shit!” he swore.

“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.

“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”

All the kids stood up and started looking around.

“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.

“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.

“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”

“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”

He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.

“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”

Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.

He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Steve!”

He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.

He went thundering down the steps.

“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.

Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”

Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”

He ducked his head and nodded.

“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.

“I will I promise.”

He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.

Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.

He showed her the pouch.

“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”

Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”

Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”

“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.

They were all hanging off his every word.

Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.

“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”

Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.

She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”

Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”

She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.

****

In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.

“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”

Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”

“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”

Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”

Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.

“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”

Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”

Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”

Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”

Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.

Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.

He had a Harrington to woo.

****

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

[t1red-twilight]

OMG OMG can you do something with angst request #10 "i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore" with peter :)))))) Ive been sad and need some angst to match the mood and who better to ask!!!

bereavement

summary: “i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore.”

content/warnings: gn!reader, andrew!peter, angst, major character death, grief, descriptions of ptsd, disordered eating (if you squint)

notes: omg tysm!!! i GOTCHU girl (gender-neutral). i really really tried with this one, i hope you enjoy it. i hope you feel better, dear anon. this fic made me cry lol

word count: 1k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

you had had a grueling day at work. you hadn’t slept the night before; your head plagued with dreams and regrets that you would carry as long as you would live. everyone was bothering you in some shape or form, plus, you had forgotten your lunch.

all you wanted was peter. you opted to walk to his home instead of trying to bear the late night traffic.

when you saw him, your shoulders finally released the tension that they had been holding.

“hey, pete.” you sat down next to him. “you would not believe how hard work was today. a rude older lady harassed me about messing up one of her forms, even though she was the one that filled them out.” you slouched and looked at the ground.

the honks of busy city life filled your ears. the smell from the rain lingered. “i forgot my lunch again. i don’t have enough to eat out right now either, so i just didn’t have lunch. but that’s not a big deal.” stomach pains were something that you were becoming quite familiar with. inhaling deeply, you continued. “i canceled more plans. i know you don’t want me to, but i just want to spend any time i have, with you. I can’t bear to be further away from you.” the sound of him scolding you felt like whispers against your damp skin.

you reached up and wiped a lone tear from your cheek. smiling as wide as you could handle, you tried to ignore them.

“i want to move to somewhere quieter, but i could never leave you.” you fiddled with your fingers out of habit.

there was a pause. your ears rang. “you don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, okay? i promise. i’ll stay here as long as you need me too.”

you waited; your eyes trailed downward, head turned away. the street was still slick with the combination of the oil from the city mixed with the rain. your breathing was fitful now, tears soaking the neckline of your top.

“i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore,” you choked out, your hands rubbing the sockets of your eyes. you scanned the graveyard before returning your gaze to where peter rested.

Peter’s headstone was simple; he never would have wanted something grandiose. you and may picked out a simple granite. it was more may’s choice than yours, you had been too hysterical to even cope with the fact that the funeral you were planning was his.

even through hysterics, it never really hit you that he was dead. not until he sunk in an urn into the earth.

he always insisted an urn, better for the environment. neither you or may could handle having him sit on your mantle. you both decided that it felt too dehumanizing.

his headstone read: Peter Benjamin Parker: Lover, Son, Hero.

“it’s not getting any easier. i still love you more than anything, peter. i’m not capable of loving someone else, i think.

“you’ve ruined me romantically.” you laughed at the thought. it was a joke, even though it rang truer and truer as each day passed.

“you are the highlight of my existence. good lord, peter. you mean so much to me. there is nothing that i wouldn’t do to see you again. or, at the very least get your pillow to smell normal again. it reeks of me.”

-

peter died in your arms.

you could not quite recall the turn of events completely, but you could very clearly remember what he had said to you last.

he stumbled into your apartment through the fire escape. it got blurry after he thudded onto the carpet.

there had been some criminal ransacking the city who had a particular vengeance for peter. every time peter went out, he came back worse and worse. the name of the scum that killed him laid dormant somewhere in your mind. you refused to even think about him, as far as you were concerned, he was beneath you.

you had known that peter’s crime fighting could result in something serious, but pete had always insisted that everything was going to end up all right.

“i got him,” he had said. you ran over to help him. everything you remembered was from the third person, like you were watching yourself from above. you couldn’t recollect anything you said in response. “finally you’ll be safe from-”

from this point everything was crystal clear. you could name the shampoo still faintly straggled in his hair. it was your shampoo; now tarnished with the intense irony scent of blood that congested the throngs of your shared bedroom.

“peter, we have got to call an ambulance.” you were getting frantic. you tried as hard as you could to hoist him up, but he resisted. his arms rested atop your shoulders as you tried and tried to lift him up.

“it’s my time, love, it’s-”

“no. just let me get you to the hospital. if you hold on just a little bit longer, we can get you fixed up, okay?”

he inhaled like he was going to say something. his forehead fell to your shoulder.

“honey?” you shook him. “peter?”

“pete? peter?” you hand moved to his scalp. you tried to thread your fingers through his hair to no avail. the matting from his blood halted you fingers as soon as you began.

“c’mon, darling. stay awake, okay?”

“peter?”

your screech was pathetic as he laid limply in your arms. his chest was concave and his left foot had been barely hanging on.

-

you changed your shampoo after that; the smell of it only ever brought you that night. whenever you closed your eyes, you saw visions of peter. you could not decide which was worse: the memories where he was happy, or the play-by-play of his soul shrinking away from yours.

nights were now filled with television reruns, your ceiling, anything that could keep you awake occupied your time. when you were asleep you could be with him again. but, you never wanted to wake up. the hollow throbbing pains of having him ripped away from you again when you woke made you an insomniac.

you doomed yourself to repeat this cycle. it was as if you ever managed to get over peter, you’d lose everything that you had of him. so, you clung to every crumb that remained. even though those crumbs were slipping through your fingers like sand and disappearing with time as days passed.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi what are your thoughts on yandere older Brother MK ? Love to hear your thoughts , theories, hcs/fics please 💗

Stormy Weather

Yandere Older Brother MK

(So I’m working on some blog improvement stuff- if anyone has a moment to do so, I’d appreciate if you took a moment to fill this questionnaire out! No pressure, of course- and I hope you enjoy the headcanons!)

History is often said to repeat, and those words have never been proven truer to MK when he sees you wandering up to the bright sign of Pigsy’s store. He wouldn’t usually be too concerned by a child’s fascination with such a bright and colorful light, but in the middle of a freezing rainstorm, wearing so little clothing? You’re absolutely filthy, covered in wet leaves and mud, a sorry sight made all the sorrier by your scraped legs and forearms.

MK races outside to meet you, only to stop dead in his tracks when you cower away at his hasty approach. He steps takes a step away and kneels down, leveling himself to your eyes. The delivery boy spends a few minutes coaxing you towards him with soft words, promising you safety and warmth if you come inside with him. Eventually, you accept the hand he offers to you, unsteadily allowing yourself to be lifted up and brought into the store.

MK freezes for a moment, struggling to sort through the list of what he needs to do for you, what tasks to prioritize. You’re gaunt to the point that your ribs push against skin, so you need food. You’re freezing and soaked from the rain, so you need a change of clothes. And you’re caked head to toe with what looks like half a forest floor, foliage and soil crusted all across your body.

A bath first, he manages to decide.

It wouldn’t do to have you sitting miserably in a puddle of filth as you ate, and changing your clothes is moot without cleaning you.

MK hauls you up to his apartment, trying his hardest not to jostle your frail body- and though he manages to avoid any outright collisions or trips, he stumbles quite a few times with the awkwardness of carrying you. But eventually, the shower is in sight and you’re sat gently on the tiles, left to trace your finger through the shallow grooves. Your newfound hero scrounges around for everything he needs, coming back to you with an armful of shower supplies. Without hesitation, he spills them unceremoniously onto the ground and starts the water.

Although you flinch away from the sudden and somewhat loud spray crashing down towards you, MK places a hand your back and rubs it to calm you down, testing the warmth of the water. Once the shower heats up, he gently nudges you forward.

You stare up in wide-eyed awe at the torrent of warmth, sitting neatly on the shower floor as the metal faucet drenches you. Biting back a chuckle, MK watches the gears spin in your head- you’re clearly having trouble making sense of the showerhead, of all the perforations through the shiny steel, of the lever that changes the spray settings. Have you never had a shower before?

Oh.

This must be your first one, MK thinks to himself, slowly reaching forward to peel away your filthy clothing. He has no clue how old you are, but you’re definitely at the age where you should know about showers and baths- or at least be used to them by now.

With a slight grimace, MK tosses your old clothes right into the trash. No point in trying to salvage them, not when the fabric is soiled through with grime and tattered to a net-like state. He’ll give you something from his own closet later to make up for it.

In spite of being hyperactive and somewhat flighty, the delivery boy does a surprisingly good job of washing you up. It takes nearly an hour to scrub away all traces of mud, and he spends nearly as much time afterwards brushing out your hair, plucking out enough twigs and leaves to build a garden.

By the end of it, you’re somewhat presentable, wrapped in an old Monkey King pajama set that MK never got around to getting rid of. The colors are worn and the fabric is abraded to softness, but the sleepwear is cozy and warming regardless. In particular, you fiddle with the stuffed tail sewn to the back of the pants, admiring the still-soft plushness between your hands.

You’ve quickly grown accustomed to the feel of MK’s hands, warm and quick, built with a touch of muscle. They’re the gentlest thing in the world right now, scooping you into a cradled form and carrying you back down to the cozy noodle joint. He almost sits you down on one of the cushioned stools, but something in his mind starts screaming to keep you close.

Cooking noodles with a child in one arm proves a little too hard, so MK shifts you around to his back and allows you to rest there, your arms wrapped carefully around his neck. You’re holding tightly enough that you do slightly impede the movement of his arms, but all the end up finely chopped and prepared anyways.

He leaves out several of the usual ingredients to make the dish more palatable, reducing the amount of veggies and spice the noodles would usually have. It’s nothing new to him, helping Pigsy make adjustments for custom-ordered meals. Instead of savory veggies, he makes you dumplings with cheese filling, hoping you’d find them easy to eat and keep down.

MK takes a seat before placing you on his lap, ready with a few napkins to wipe up any spills.

Between the two plates, you reach for the dumplings first, drawn by the enticing smell of freshly cooked savory bread and sweet cheese. He chuckles when you stuff the first one down your mouth, watching a little bit of cheese drip from between your closed lips as the dough bursts and coats your mouth with gooey cheddar. MK lifts the napkin to clean your face before pulling the noodle bowl towards you- and then laughs when you stuff a hand right in to grab a fistful.

Thankfully, MK had the foresight to drain the broth after cooking the noodles, allowing them to cool quicker. It also prevents you from spilling hot liquid across yourself, which he’s very glad for now that you’re wrist deep in noodle, eating right from your own clenched hand.

A warmth bubbles up deep inside his chest, blossoming out through his skin in ripples- the feeling of doing good for the sake of good. Just seeing you stuff down the noodles and dumplings is enough to bring a smile to MK’s face.

Enough to wash that addictive heat down his spine and through his veins.

Maybe he shouldn’t take to the police station just yet. And it might sound heinous; if you look at it from the angle of keeping a child from their parents, but- you were starving! You were freezing! You were running around in tattered clothes! You don’t know the first thing about stranger danger!

Whoever it was that was taking care of you was clearly not doing a great job!

So maybe, just maybe… it’s okay to keep you? MK certainly thinks so. He’s not too wrong with the points he raises, that you’re a victim of something, whatever it is. Neglect, starvation, abandonment, name it. You need to be saved, he quickly decides.

And what does a hero do best, if not save people?

[percheduphere]

I wanted to find and gather some lesser appreciated Mobius moments from S1, and some thoughts occurred to me.

When we see Mobius drill into Loki about his choices, his thought patterns, whether or not he enjoys hurting people, Mobius comes down on Loki HARD, cruelly, goading, and manipulating (Sound familiar? Just wait...). He does so in a way that's confident he will get the answers he expects from Loki, which he does.

When we cut to the scenes with Renslayer, Mobius's truer, gentler side appears. The side that is kind and soft and believes in second chances. Notice, also, the difference in lighting between these scenes.

And then it hit me:

Mobius was using a carefully constructed persona--an illusion--with Loki to control the situation and get Loki into the headspace of self-reflection. He uses the very same technique Loki uses regularly to get the outcome that is beneficial for both of them.

Genius, really.

As we move into S1E2 and E3, the power dynamics are decidedly uneven, but once they are out in the field, Mobius's actual power and control over Loki is quite limited and actually banks on a LOT of faith. A ridiculous amount of faith, to be honest. Despite logical misgivings, Mobius makes a POINT of giving Loki freedom and trust because he has analyzed Loki enough to know that lack of trust perpetuates a destructive self-fulfilling prophecy.

So when Loki chooses to escape with Sylvie, all those centuries of belief and good will Mobius invested in him were thrown in his face. He's understandably furious, but the interrogation scene after both Lokis are captured simply does not read as normal without the additional lens of jealousy. If Mobius were not emotionally compromised in some way, he would have handled the interrogation clinically, and he would have sent Loki to be pruned without a thought.

Mobius doesn't do either of those things. Rather than asking Loki objective questions, he focuses on Loki's attention on Sylvie and verbally twists the knife where he can. His punishment for Loki after the interrogation is shockingly personal:

A word about the Sif loop scene: I really, REALLY hated that Mobius did that. It honestly made my gut churn. I think the writers tried to play it off for laughs because Loki gets kicked in the balls repeatedly, but the emotional undercurrent of Sif's words and everything that it means is just awful.

That said, I understand that this scene reveals not only Loki's vulnerability but ALSO Mobius's. This is a "passionate diagreement" through proxy. Mobius knows what would hurt Loki the most psychologically. But why would Mobius choose to hurt him this severely with these specific words?

Remember, this might be a memory, but Mobius is choosing to speak his feelings to Loki through Sif.

I think the answer is 4-pronged: First, Mobius put his career, reputation, and friendship with Ravonna on the line for Loki. The stress of the potential repercussions (which were HIGH) should Loki betray him was a constant heat on his neck. Despite this, Mobius chooses the riskier route of believing Loki would not betray his trust. And yes, within the context of what Mobius has done to advocate for Loki and what's at stake for Mobius should he fail, Loki absolutely betrays him.

Second, Loki told Mobius everything he believed about the TVA and his place in the multiverse is a lie. When was the last time Mobius reacted so violently?

When Brad called him a "nowhere man".

Mind, there is guilt beneath this anger. Not only has everything Mobius believed in been revealed as a lie, it is revealed he was complicit in the genocide of multiple timelines for which there was never any ultimate good. YIKES. That's a lot to take in, and Mobius at his core is a deeply empathetic person. The guilt of this horror, at his hands, is probably why Mobius does not defend himself when Sylvie tears him a new one in S2E4.

Three, I think Mobius may have wished for a friendship with Loki long before his intervention. I've written elsewhere that his intervention appears to be premeditated. Mobius was only waiting for his chance to come along. Who knows how many centuries that took. I believe he may have rationalized away his emotional attachment as a means to help the TVA succeed. Mobius is adept at suppressing not only his emotions but his wants.

Four, by S1E3, Mobius came to love Loki to some degree, platonic or otherwise. I think it's very difficult to not develop love for someone or something you've been tasked to be an expert on. Having Loki actually beside him, engaging with him over lunch and work, no doubt added some much needed color in Mobius's life. It's hard not to become infatuated with someone fun and exciting.

The jealous rage that overwhelms Mobius doesn't last long. When it comes down to it, Mobius can't help but believe in Loki. Doubt in the TVA takes root once his immediate anger dissipates. So Mobius steals Ravonna's TemPad, verifies Loki's claims, and immediately self-corrects. Mobius could have dug his heels in with more denial, but he doesn't. Why? Because Mobius ultimately cares more about Loki than himself.

When Mobius returns to Loki, he asks a few other questions that I can't share images for because of the 10-image limit. Those other questions include but are not limited to:

Do you care about Sylvie?

Do you really believe you deserve to be alone?

I should point out these questions are not at all tied to the well-being of the TVA or the multiverse. They are specifically tied to Loki's well-being. Loki's happinness.

Why does Mobius ask these questions? Because, in my opinion, Mobius was preparing himself to let Loki go, be with who he wants to be with (Sylvie), and fight the battle he wants to fight. Mobius will not be the obstruction to Loki's path to personal success even if that means letting go of the TVA, letting go of Ravonna, letting go of Loki himself.

All of this is a selfless act of love. What kind of love that is is up to the viewer, but it is very much there. It's real and integral to the story.

Classic Loki points out that this is a high cost. In response, Mobius takes the crux of his belief in Loki and directs it to himself.

The beauty of the goodbye scene in S1S6 is that the emotional thrust of selfless love is echoed and amplified in Loki's own self-sacrifice in S2E6. Loki lets go of the TVA, lets go of Sylvie, lets go of Mobius himself. Ouroboros.

[starcheols]

the 1 — choi seungcheol

⭑ it is said that no one ever forgets their first love, nor their first heartbreak. truer words have never been spoken as you leave the glamourous cities of europe to return to your small hometown, for the first time in seven years.

don't you think it would have been sweet, if it could have been me pairing :: smalltown!seungcheol x fashion designer!reader (gender neutral) genre :: nostalgia, gentle angst

warnings :: nothing major! just heartbreak i guess? mentions a glass of wine and a kiss. word count :: 1.4k

author's note :: i've never written a fan-fiction before so i'm marking this monumentous occasion with a slightly mediocre piece of writing that was floating around in my head for a week :)

links :: masterlist / ask to be added to the taglist!

The old bus station, with its peeling red paint and rugged masts, greeted you like an old friend as you took a step off the weathered vehicle, with its tires sagging next to the cracked curb. It seemed that autumn’s breath was whispering in the air, carrying a chill that nipped at you, prompting you to tug your cashmere coat tighter around yourself.

As you stood there, under the canopy of the station, the rhythmic plod of the primordial-era bus faded into the distance, and a familiar nostalgia settled over you like the autumn mist.

Your hometown had remained frozen in time, a canvas of memories painted against the backdrop of quaint architecture and cobblestone streets that echoed under the sharp clack of your heeled boots. 

As you rounded the corner of the bus station, the remainder of the small town, with its quaint buildings and centrepiece fountain, unfolded before you like a familiar tapestry of memories. 

And there, standing beneath the flickering street lights of the early morning, a broad-shouldered man stood with his back turned, the sun’s first tentative rays finding a home in his honey-blonde hair. And for that fleeting moment, you could have sworn you felt time suspend, the world tilting its axis beneath you, for it had been so long.

But then, reality asserted itself, like a gentle hand grounding you in the here and now. The features, upon closer inspection, were not those you had once known. The stranger's eyes, the curve of his jaw, all different from the one etched into the canvas of your memories.

You certainly could not resist the wave of relief that washed over you, and that sneaking adrenaline that had coiled within your chest slowly released its grip, leaving the heartache to dissipate along the morning dew beneath the frail sunlight.

Seven years since you had left this town, teary-eyed and clutching your suitcase, chasing dreams that led you across the world, to the capitals of Europe to pursue your degree and future. 

Milan, where you honed your craft, your fingers becoming extensions of your artistic vision. Paris, where the world of haute couture embraced you, and your name adorned the lips of those who appreciated the elegance of your designs. The bustle of fashion weeks, the allure of glamorous shows — it was a life you had dreamed of, a life you had made your own.

Yet, amidst the glittering lights of success, the echoes of that tearful departure still reverberated, often coming back to you after a stranger’s kiss or a glass of red perched on your dining table, up in the penthouses of Paris.

You remembered that fateful day, seven years ago to the date today, when the bus station had rather been a stage for a heartbreaking farewell. Seungcheol, your best friend with golden hair and big eyes that once held a world of shared secrets, stood before you.

Back then, you were just eighteen, brimming with dreams and aspirations. You had poured your heart out to Seungcheol, confessing a love that had blossomed within the cocoon of friendship. But his response, or rather the lack thereof, had cast a shadow over the farewell, dragging you over the edge to embarrassed silence and quiet tears. His eyes, ringed with long lashes that you longed to once press a soft kiss to, reflected not reciprocation, but a profound sadness and pity.

The bus had become your vessel of escape, your tears mingling with the rumble of the engine, as the vehicle pulled away from the same curb that you stepped out on today. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air — Choi Seungcheol, the person you had thought of when you tossed pennies into the fountain’s pool and the person you loved the most in the entire world, (and really, what was the world of one who had just turned eighteen?), did not share the same sentiments at all.

The bench under the gnarled oak tree offered a momentary respite, and you took a seat, your coat enveloping you like a cocoon against the autumn chill. As you waited for your parents, who had vowed to meet you for breakfast, you watched the leaves dance in the breeze, a kaleidoscope of reds and golds that mirrored the hues of memories embedded in this town.

The quiet peace of the surroundings enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the crisp air to wash over you. The distant hum of the town, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant echo of a church bell created a symphony that resonated with a serene melancholy. The town hadn't changed much, and neither had the comforting embrace of its quiet corners.

A voice, a familiar voice, and one that you knew only all too well, cut through the tranquil ambiance. Your eyes snapped open, and the world seemed to shift on its axis again. There, standing before you, was Seungcheol —no longer the silent boy you tearfully left behind but a man, his honey-blonde hair still curling around his ears. His gaze met yours, and the years seemed to melt away in that moment, and how you hated the leap of your heart and the shake of your hands.

And it seemed your traitorous heart, a tempest of conflicting emotions, of love and grief, ran cold and hot simultaneously. Seven years had sculpted the features of the boy who you had loved from your childhood into a refined allure, the lines of boyhood replaced by the contours of a man who had weathered time with grace.

"Hey," he greeted you, a warmth in his eyes that could have deceived you into forgetting silent tears, and his pitying gaze years ago. "I heard you were back in town. It's been forever!"

Your brightest smile, a mask that you could credit from having being forged from your years of navigating the high celebrity ends of the world, adorned your own face, as you accepted his open arms, pulling yourself into the scent of him.

The old familiarity threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart. How was it that he seemed genuinely excited to see you, to reconnect after all these years.

Seungcheol's infectious laughter filled the air, a melody that echoed through the town square, and one that you would have spent summers listening to on repeat, your arms intertwined. "I can't believe it, you know? I always knew you had that amazing potential, but seeing your name everywhere, in magazines and tabloids, isn’t that so cool? You've made it so big!"

The genuine admiration in his eyes was both heartwarming and disconcerting, for you. You could only nod, expressing gratitude for his kind words while trying to suppress the turbulent emotions churning beneath the surface. The town's quiet corners, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stage, each word and glance an act in the intricate dance of reunion.

And you won't believe who's behind me," Seungcheol continued, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "My wife's a huge fan of your work. She practically dragged me here to meet you."

As your eyes shifted to the figure approaching behind him, your breath caught. A woman, stunning with dark red hair, walked with two small children by her side. The bitterness, like a dormant ember, flickered within you, threatening to consume the facade of happiness you had meticulously crafted.

"Hey, look who's here!" Seungcheol called out to his wife, his voice brimming with excitement.

She turned, and for a moment, your eyes locked. A fleeting connection passed between you, a recognition of shared spaces in a world divided by time and choices. Her smile was warm, genuine, and you tried to match it with your own, though it felt brittle, a fragile façade that hid the tempest within.

Seungcheol introduced you, praising your work with an enthusiasm that only friends from the past could muster. The children, curious and full of innocent wonder, regarded you with wide eyes. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but wonder what could have been if, in that moment seven years ago, the trajectory of your lives had diverged in a different direction.

Seungcheol had moved on, creating a family, a chosen one. The pang of longing lingered, but you swallowed it down, resisting the temptation to wonder about alternate realities.

But we were something don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool. And if my wishes came true, it would have been you.

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ The Perfect Love Scheme - p.sh

♡ sypnosis: a jack of all trades by self proclamation and loser-nerd in actuality; park sunghoon would stay at home for the rest of his life if it wasn’t for his party-hungry friends. his quiet and anxious demeanor when you first met him in the club is exactly what makes you greatful he didn’t though. tonight was the night you were going to convince your friends that you were going home with someone. maybe then they’d finally leave you alone about love. a little love scheme never hurt nobody, right?

♡ genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, pinch of angst, strangers to lovers, non-idol au, fem!reader

♡ 6.5k word count

♡ warnings: cursing, anxiety mentioned, suggestive, drinking mentioned, sarcastic jokes?, please let me know if there’s any i missed!

♡ nano note: i really hope yall like this as much as i do! sunghoon has been terrorizing me lately so i needed to write something. feedback is greatly appreciated! xoxo

.♡.

Sunghoon doesn’t know who the fuck said you couldn’t find love in the club.

He wants a name, a number, a fucking address. Maybe then he could track them down and show them—not tell them—how wrong they are; he’s quite literally staring at the very definition.

The moment he spotted you on the dance floor, you quite literally rendered him speechless and when your eyes met his for the first time, he felt a hot feeling surge through his chest. Sunghoon has had his fair share of relationships and failed talking stages, yet he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before.

You were gorgeous.

There was something about the way you danced about carelessly in the dark; not one worry in the world. You looked so free; like you belonged to you and only you. You didn’t seem to care if people watched you, you didn’t care if people were actively judging you. You were just being your authentically free self whilst the music ran through and moved you like you had not one thing to lose.

Wow.

Sunghoon wishes he could be like that.

His crippling anxiety had gotten worse as of recent and he felt trapped into an abyss he couldn’t run from, just worries and more worries piling onto one another. This, in turn, had him all pent up in his room for a couple of months. He for sure thinks that within the last year his social skills have gotten worse too, so there was really no reason to go out into public and socialize if he didn’t have to, right?

He wouldn’t want to embarrass himself.

Yet here he was.

Maybe letting Heeseung and Jake drag him to the hell hole that was this busy night club located in the middle of Itaewon’s party district wasn’t such a bad idea. They had been on his ass for a long time now about going out to party on the weekends, and they’d finally gotten him out of the house tonight. Yes, this took a lot of effort on their part, and yes, Sunghoon almost had a mental breakdown whilst waiting in the line outside to get into the club, but his friends weren’t going to let him go home until he was wasted it seems.

He was being forced to have fun.

Heeseung had practically grappled him by the scruff of his neck onto the dance floor, drinks in both of their hands threatening to spill as he uttered; “Sunghoon, let go of your fucking pride and worries for once. Literally nobody is going to remember tomorrow—including you.”

But boy, was he wrong.

Because, how could he ever forget you?

You in your cute little dress.

You and your pretty face; eyes so entrancing and wonderous. At the same time the energy exuding from your demeanor was that you were quite guarded and closed off.

You read ‘tread carefully’ when anyone on the dance floor got remotely close to you, and you stayed relatively close to your group of friends—yet to him, this was more the reason to be so enthralled with your presence. This sentiment couldn’t be truer the moment you caught his eyes staring at you too.

The previous look of being preoccupied with yourself had changed painstakingly slow, and a pretty smirk curls onto your lips when you had realized you’d gained an audience.

His audience.

He wanted to die and ascend to heaven right then and there—he swore he’d be perfectly okay with that too.

Sunghoon paces himself as his thoughts run rampant at the sight of you moving closer.

Pretty girl is coming over here, pretty girl is coming over here—she’s coming over here fuck!

And as he awkwardly sways about on the dance floor, a very strained and creaky look taking over his figure-skater frame as he fixes the chunky framed glasses on his face, he swore that the strangers dancing about must have been paid extras or something—they quite literally started to clear the way for you.

Like you were Moses.

Like you were some extraterrestrial and heavenly being.

Like you were parting the red fucking sea.

“Are you okay? That babe is like…staring you down and making her way over here.” Jake whispers as quietly as he can to Sunghoon over the blaring music.

This does no favors for Sunghoon’s erratic nerves, and he inwardly has to talk himself down from raising his hands back up to his mouth in order to bite his fingernails habitually.

“Yeah, I caught a glimpse of her a couple weeks ago when I was here,” Heeseung butts in, “From what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t really talk to anyone but her friend circle.”

Then why the fuck was she coming over here?

Sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s making a big deal out of this either—ultimately, you could go anywhere you wanted.

“Nah, she’s kind of approaching us right now-“ Jake is able to get out before Sunghoon is jabbing him in the stomach with his elbow.

Within a few seconds you were standing in front of them three; a pretty sexy smile on display that Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever seen you wear before.

Sunghoon is going to shit himself.

“Hi, Uhh- My friend over there was wondering if you were single. She wanted to talk to you actually.” You say, shifting to stare Jake dead in the eyes.

This wasn’t like you.

I mean yes, you were definitely lying right now and no friend of yours had even seen these three on this side of the club, but you couldn’t really contain yourself when you caught the raven-haired one staring you down. Yes, you had always preached the importance of falling in love with yourself and learning to be comfortable with being alone to your sex-thirsty friends—but you had to admit this one was a looker and warranted your curiosity. So, you broke your own rules and approached undeniably the best looking trio of men you think you’ve ever seen before—and there was no time for your insecurities to say you couldn’t.

“Who? Me?” Jake says, completely confused by your sudden gaze detaching from Sunghoon and being expectantly placed on him.

“Yeah, she’s the blonde back there.” You state, looking over your shoulder and pointing to your very lesbian friend.

She could play the part whilst you figure out a way to distract the doe-eyed looking guy. Your friends did this all the time with you, so it was their turn now. You’re sure they’d be more than happy to know you’ve taken interest in someone too.

“Oh, well if you’ll excuse me.” Jake says, bottom lip going between his teeth after he smiles at you, then he’s quickly sauntering off towards your friend.

You pass him a smile back and pray to every god in existence that your friends read the room before you’re turning back to the other two men.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we got your name…” Heeseung starts, sending you a very amused smile as he places a friendly firm arm around Sunghoon to tap him into being engaged with the conversation now that you were standing right the fuck in front of him.

“Oh! My bad, I’m Y/n.” You say, outstretching your hand for a quite formal introduction for the club.

You don’t let the burns of embarrassment that sprall out across your cheeks faze you though—the beauty-marked boy seems to like you still by the looks of his matching pink ones.

The doe-eyed one shakes your hand firmly first, then pretty boy does, albeit a bit shaky. “I’m Heeseung, this is Sunghoon.” Bambi states, obviously doing you both a favor and trying to get the nervous looking Sunghoon to start talking.

Sunghoon just smiles like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet as he holds his breath for your next words.

Cute.

You liked that.

“It’s really nice to meet you guys, uhm, Sunghoon? Would you like to dance?” You ask, placing all your cards on the table right away because tonight you were feeling quite interested in this one. Sunghoon burns from the inside out as he takes a few moments to process your words.

Pretty girl’s standing here? Pretty girl’s asking me to dance?? Fuck fuck fuck!

“Uh- Well, i don’t really like dancing-“

“He loves to fucking dance! Of course he would!” Heeseung cuts him off, both of his hands going to Sunghoon’s upper back to push him towards you maliciously—I mean, benevolently!

Sunghoon’s eyes go wide as they stare at your very pleased and amused expression, and he doesn’t know whether or not to stab or thank Heeseung the next time he see’s him.

Only time can tell.

“Cool, let’s go.” You state quite simply, reaching out and grabbing onto Sunghoon’s hand and softly pulling him along with you.

Red hot blush shoots down the back of his neck as he caves in and decides to follow.

You hastily turn around once you get to a good space on the dance floor for you two, and immediately pull him closer to place his hands on your hips. He feels he can’t take his eyes away from you, completely entranced now as you smile and lean in to whisper; “…You can touch me, loosen up pretty boy.”

When you pull away with that sly but inviting smile still plastered on your face, Sunghoon suddenly decides that the dozens of eyes and possible dozens more camera phones in the room don’t fucking matter anymore. His hands lightly lift off your hips as he then decides to pinch the sequins of your dress in order to pull you closer by the fabric in the most politest, non-loser, totally un-nervous way possible.

You just smile up at him as you let a laugh out, because now your proximity has you realizing just how tall his pretty and nervous self is.

He sends you a bashful smile as you start to sway to the beat, then your arms find their way around his neck. There’s a few moments of him just swaying until he gets more comfortable touching you again, but the way your eyes dared not to deter from his made him feel like he could get on the floor and do the fucking worm and you’d still choose him to dance with you.

Were you a vixen?

A temptress of some sort?

Was he going to be lured to your bed chambers where you cooked him in potions and used him for spells?

He thinks he just might consent to this with the way you trail your hands down to grip and hold onto the collar of his shirt to pull him down to your height this time.

“How have I never seen you here before?” You ask over the music, quite endeared by his everything. Then he smiles; his striking brows, beauty marks, and newly unveiled and very pointy canines all come together so seamlessly to form this big butterfly in your stomach.

You became curious about just how many girls and guys—and hearts in general—have been lost and entranced by that face.

“Uh-This is the first time in a long time being here actually. I don’t go out much.” He lets out nervously, his eyes shifting to your lips for a split second before his eyes are on yours again.

This was the exact moment where you decided to get a glimpse of his own lips—and damn, you were suddenly filled with many ideas of how to make sure they’d be placed on your own later tonight.

“Oh, is that so?” You say through a smirk, tilting your head to the side as you dance. This is where Sunghoon starts to feel all giddy inside.

You were really cute, too.

“Yes…” He confirms, tilting his head to be parallel with yours, and for once he feels a spark of confidence. Before you can even blush at this cute gesture, he’s winking at you quite smoothly.

This sends your butterfly morphing into thousands, and when your heart rate speeds up at the prolonged eye contact that you two hold, you realize you can’t take it any more. You distance yourself from his lean figure whilst your right hand finds his own before you’re turning around and interlacing his hand with yours as his arm drapes around your shoulder; your back now pressed to his chest.

Sunghoon feels he is going to pass out right here, right now, because wow, you smell amazing as his hand instinctively finds your waist; the both of you two-stepping to the beat. You both continue on like this, Sunghoon making eye contact with Heeseung from across the way and being met with a thumbs up and a wiggle of the eye-brows.

This ultimately makes Sunghoon blush harder as he goes to push his glasses up further on his nose bridge to busy himself. When he hears you giggle in front of him over the music, he internally screams because fuck she definitely saw that.

You take this moment to turn again and disconnect your two’s hands so that you could talk to him face to face now that the start of the parasite called emotions has calmed down.

“Your friend looks quite happy that you’re dancing with me…” You tease as you continue to two-step and fix the strap of your dress.

“Oh, d-don’t mind him! I’m not going to ask you to come home with me or anything—I’m sorry if he’s being creepy-“

“What if I want to go home with you?” You cut him off.

Fuck it.

What did you have to lose?

You watch as Sunghoon’s whole face goes red, his eye’s widening as he tilts his head down questioningly at you.

“What?”

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at his shock.

“Sunghoon, can I let you in on something?” You say, deciding to just come clean.

At the same time, you’re peering over his shoulder and meeting eyes with your group of friends who smiled your way to let you know they were watching you. It’s there where a light-bulb turns on and the gears in your head finally start churning.

Is this not the perfect idea?

Plus, he was really cute and shy—what could go wrong? He didn’t seem like a weirdo or a murderer—

“Sure, you can tell me…” He says, eyeing you suspiciously as he still tries to grapple with the words you uttered a second ago.

“Do you see my friends behind you?” You ask, and Sunghoon’s quick to turn his head and see their eyes on him.

“Uh yeah, they’re kind of staring over here-“

“Yeah, they’ve been trying to get me to go home with someone for weeks—I’ve just been blowing them off and having fun by myself…” You say, and you decide to lean forward to get a bit closer to him. “Do you catch what I’m throwing?” You ask, hoping he could help you out with your new scheme to get your friends off your back.

Sunghoon nods as he starts to wrap his head around the situation. “Oh- so you don’t want to go home go home with me, you want to fool your friends….” He states slowly, staring off into thought.

You laugh, pulling him back down to earth, then take your turn pulling him closer by the cloth of his shirt. He smiles awkwardly at this but inwardly he’s cussing himself out for being such a fucking loser who wasn’t meant to say any of that out loud.

“I mean-“

“I know what you meant. You’re right.” You say through a smile, grabbing his hands and placing them both back on your hips that you sway slowly—and just like that he’s back to being speechless.

“I’d really like it if you played the part for me. Think of it as doing me a favor.” You reason, your hands now wrapping around his neck again.

He stares at you through his lenses as he weighs his options.

From the start of the night he didn’t want to be here either—if he’s honest, you were now the only reason to stay besides to please his friends. Plus, if he looked like he was taking you home now, maybe they’d leave him alone and stop worrying about him.

It was a win-win situation.

Fuck it.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.” He states firmly, eyes looking into each of your eyes just as the song switches to something more sensual and down-tempo. You smile in response and try to deny the fact that his words and eyes make the butterflies flutter again.

“Perfect.”

And then he smiles back—cheeks just as blushy as yours.

“Perfect.”

There’s a moment of silence between you as you’re both quick to adapt to the music change. You scan his features again, and he watches you do so, heart pounding hard in his chest. When your fingers go to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he eyes your lips, it feels like instinct for you two to lean in.

It all plays out so slow.

It feels like millions of years go by as he leans down and a million more when you tip-toe to meet him in the middle. In that hazy-eyed daze, right before your lips touch, you mutter words that almost break Sunghoon’s heart clean in half.

“…This will really sell it, won’t it? I hope they’re watching.”

And still, despite the fact that it’s all for show, his heart feels like it’s stitched back together again the moment he hums as an answer and you smash your lips onto his. It’s borderline intimacy; the way your tongue infiltrates his mouth and the feeling of your plush lips on his. When he tilts his head for a better angle and you hum in response, he’s sure you’re about to win an Emmy, an Oscar, a fucking Tony.

The way the both of you manage to sway slowly to the music at the same time might earn you a Grammy as well; you were a great fucking performer—no, a great fucking kisser.

Sunghoon was going to thank Heeseung.

He was going to kiss the ground he walks on the next time he see’s him outside of the club.

Shit, he’ll name his first born after him.

You were perfect.

—

Shortly after your two’s make-out session that lasted longer than it probably should’ve, you were quick to interlace his fingers with yours and pull him over to your friends where you left your purse. After gathering your belongings and saying goodbye to your friends after a couple awkward moments of them interrogating a swollen-lipped Sunghoon, you quite literally drag him out of the club.

“Where’s your car?” You ask the still blushy and dazed beauty, and you can’t help but smile as you admire the way the moonlight hits his pale skin.

“M-my car? Oh, it’s over here.” He stutters out before taking the lead, guiding you to his car by the hand. After unlocking it, he then opens the passenger door for you and holds out a hand to aid you with getting in. After you take his hand and sit down, Sunghoon smiles your way before closing the door softly. You take this moment to let go of the breath you were holding, the butterflies going crazy again and mind squealing because you don’t think anyone’s ever done that for you before.

It only takes a few seconds for Sunghoon to run around and get in, then he’s starting the car and buckling himself in pretty quick which makes you laugh. “What’s the rush? Can’t wait to get me home?” You chuckle as he pulls out of the club parking space whilst checking his review mirrors.

He laughs too despite his nerves, and you catch sight of his canines again.

Would it hurt if he bit me-

“No, I just thought it’d be good for the theatrics. What if your friends came out of the club?” He smiles, driving out of the parking lot.

This makes you snort.

“Right, of course! Damn, you really thought this through didn’t you? You should become a scriptwriter.” You say playfully.

Sunghoon’s eyes shift back and forth between you and the road a couple times, his smile never faltering.

“That’s actually kind of funny because, I kind of write as a side job.” He confirms.

This makes your eyes widen pleasantly.

“A writing side job? Okay director, actor, writer, dancer—What else do you do? What’s your main thing?” You decide to ask, but not without throwing in a joke.

“Dancer? Are you making fun of me?” He laughs out, coming up on a red-light.

You chuckle and face him, “No?! Your moves are what entranced me before I even danced with you!”

He squints his eyes at you and the car comes to a halt, so he decides to roll his long sleeves up his arms.

“I’ll have you know, I’m a figure-skater on the side too, so i actually can decently dance. But before I tell you what I really do, where exactly am I taking you?” He asks, a new-found comfort finding home in his demeanor. You stare at him for a bit, forcing yourself to keep your eyes up at his face and not on his now exposed veiny arms.

“Uhh, I’m not going to lie—I kind of want shaved-ice. Can we get some?” You ask randomly, voice getting tinier in embarrassment as the words leave your lips.

What?

Maybe you were hungry.

Maybe you wanted more time with pretty boy.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

“I’m always up for some ice cream,” He laughs out, “…but is anything even open right now?”

Your face grows a little hot at the realization that oh fuck it’s two in the morning and he’s right. “Oh, I didn’t even realize…” You mumble.

“We can go to the gas station for a slushy or something still?” Sunghoon proposes, pressing lightly on the gas as the light turns green and immediately shifting lanes to drive to the next 24-hour gas station.

“Please? Sorry if i’m asking for too much.” You say quietly as you sink into your seat; every fiber of confidence in your body suddenly vanishing.

“You don’t need to apologize, I know a nice park close to this gas station where we can drink the slushies.” He says without much thought. This makes you smile wholeheartedly again.

“A park? Is that where you murder me in cold blood? Or are you going to push me on the swing?” You joke, heart feeling very full because; he wants to stick around.

He wants to talk longer.

Now it’s Sunghoon’s turn to sink into his seat as he once again regrets spewing the first words that come to mind. He was usually so careful and quiet before he responds to others, too.

What were you doing to him?

“No! The park kind of just came to mind. Sorry, we don’t have to-“

“No! I want to go. You don’t need to apologize.” You state, repeating his earlier comforting words.

He goes silent, a smile making its way back onto his face as he pulls into the gas station and parks. He takes another moment to smile at you again as he unbuckles himself. You reciprocate it shyly before you’re both getting out of the car and making your way into the store.

“I can fill mine faster than you can.” You say as you two come up on the slushy aisle. Sunghoon can’t help but let a chuckle out at your playfulness.

“I’m not going to race you, I want multiple flavors.” He says through a smile as he grabs two cups and hands you one. You just roll your eyes at him and sigh at his lack of childishness. “True…”

Sunghoon frowns for a second—was he ruining the mood?

“Fine, I’ll race you,” He starts, “…but we have to do half one flavor, half another.”

You smile his way; this double flavor slushy action being right up your alley. “Don’t cry when you lose.”

And so you race.

Everything was going fine.

You were in the lead as the banana flavored drink flowed faster than his pink strawberry dispenser could even keep up with—this sparks a laugh from your lips when Sunghoon groans out of frustration and furrows his brows.

“Ha!”

“Well, you have to do this flavor next for it to be fair!”

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus!”

You both quickly focus in on your drinks that fill to the halfway mark before quickly maneuvering around eachother in a fit of laughter in order to dispense the next flavor.

“I’m going to win-“

“What’s that sound?”

Before you both can comprehend where that sudden high-pitched ringing was coming from, Sunghoon’s slushy machine is filling up his cup at the speed of light as banana slushy squirts quick into the bottom, forcing his lid completely off. The cold sticky drink is shooting quick into the air from off the bottom of his cup and soaks every thing in its wake—including the pretty beauty-marked man.

“What the fuck!” You scream as it happens, backing away and getting splattered on only a bit. Sunghoon is silent the whole time, his eyes tightly scrunched closed.

There’s a few moments of shocking silence before staff is rushing over and apologizing, spewing incoherent statements like; “Fuck, Jungwon! Niki forgot to put the sign up before he left his shift!” and “Jay, please tell me you’re lying.”

You can’t help but place a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing when Sunghoon’s eyes open and glare at you through dirty lenses. You quickly rush to get some napkins along with a sunny-eyed staff member.

“Are you okay? I guess you won…”

“Y/n.” He utters your name for the first time, and even though it’s in a threatening manner, the flutters of various colorful wings inside you are sent into a frenzy again.

“What? I’m sorry, okay, i’ll shut up.” You laugh out, helping him wipe cold banana liquid off of his nice shirt. “We’re so sorry sir! Feel free to use any other flavor whilst we get this mess cleaned up. Your drinks are on us.” Say’s the apparent manager who’s name tag was labeled Kim Sunoo.

“Thank you!” You respond for the now cold and shivering Sunghoon.

“This shit is so cold, i don’t think i want it anymore.” Sunghoon borderline wines as he cleans his glasses. This makes you laugh again as your finger goes to wipe slushy off his jaw. Without thinking, you suck the liquid off your finger.

“Hey, this just means you’re twice as sweet.” You say, giving him a thumbs up and winking just like Heeseung as you watch him change colors.

Park Sunghoon get a grip, you were not supposed to be attracted to that.

“Okay! We can go now, banana boy.” You state after filling two drinks up very carefully.

Sunghoon just continues to shake and glare at you as he walks side-by-side with you to the car. When you both get inside, he’s quick to turn the heater on dispite it being the middle of June.

“Y/n, I don’t think i can get out of the car, I’m so cold right now.” He sighs out as he parks the car. You had both now arrived down the street at the park he was talking about before, and despite it being so pretty with the green grassy field and cute little playground; Sunghoon’s discomfort was more important to you.

You watch as he seems to sip happily on his now free blueberry slushy and you can’t help but laugh at this whilst Sunghoon bashfully smiles because he’s the cause of it.

Man, he wanted it on a record. He’d jump in a pool of any flavor slush you wanted him to if it meant he’d hear you laugh like this again.

“Fine. We can stay.” You say, leaning back into his passenger seat as you side eye him whilst still giggling.

He closes his eyes in a tired thanks as he too sinks into his seat.

“Okay, now you can tell me who you are. Spill your guts banana boy.”

Sunghoon opens his eyes to glare again. “I will drop you off at the gas station and leave you there if you keep that up.” He jokes, resting his head on the head rest and turning his face to look at you through his lashes and lenses.

You blush as you smirk playfully. “Okay okay, I’ll bring it down a notch i guess. Now tell me.”

Sunghoon sighs.

Is this the part where he tells you how much of a loser he really is?

“Well…I’m actually a…uh-“ He stutters out.

“Just tell me. I won’t judge.” You say, a genuine welcoming smile gracing your face as you tilt your head to be basically face to face with his. He smiles, and you watch as his eyes trail over your features.

“I’m an app developer.”

Your brows furrow at this.

“What? That’s not something to be embarrassed about. What type of apps do you make?”

Sunghoon sighs and faces forward.

“I make dating apps.”

Oh.

“But not even the ones that work, it’s the ones that you have to buy into in order to get decent matches.” He mutters, and it’s almost like he feels dead talking about what he does for a living. His eyes are blank. Mind is back to racing and worrying.

Oh.

You frown.

“Ah, so this isn’t your first love scheme then…I’m not your first love scheme.” You say, smiling and staring over at him, tone very supportive and lighthearted.

He looks back over to you and smiles lightly.

“Nope.”

Sunghoon wants to die.

“Well…look on the bright side, somewhere out there is a love scheme that you had a hand in that actually backfired on your silly little app. Like, imagine two people from one of your apps came together when they weren’t supposed to. Yet, somehow…they work just right.” You ramble on, hopeless romantic thoughts that were usually burried deep within spraying out like they were banana slushy.

When you come back to reality, you’re met with Sunghoon’s piercing eyes on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There’s goes the eye contact again.

“I never really thought about it like that.” He says, and his hand mindlessly lifts in order to play with the ends of your hair.

You smile, the butterflies now evolving to produce a hot sensation that spreads through your body.

“Yeah, it’s like a perfect love scheme. It’s not supposed to work—yet, it does.” You say, reaching out for his glasses and taking them off his face altogether. You go ahead and place them on your own face, smiling at him the whole time with this idiotic grin.

Sunghoon blushes and reciprocates your smile. He couldn’t see shit now but you were so hot. What the fuck was he going to do??

“Thank you.” He manages to whisper, still staring your way. He doesn’t know specifically for what, but just….thank you.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being so inviting. Thank you for even looking his way. Thank you for listening. Thank you for seeing the best in every terrible situation he’s had today. Thank you for existing.

Just, thank you.

You can only muster a nod as the quiet engulfs the warm air between you two. When you finally avert your eyes to take a sip of your slushy, a slurping noise is what finally breaks the silence and garners an embarrassed laugh from the both of you in response.

“Okay Miss love scheme. Why are you avoiding love?” He finally manages to ask, this burning curiosity filling his thoughts the more he spent time with you.

You frown at him.

“Well damn, that’s a packed question.” You chuckle out, kind of taken aback.

“Is it? You seem quite openly avoidant of love, so I thought this was an easy conversation.” He reasons. “We’re a love scheme to trick your friends into thinking you’re giving love a chance.”

You frown harder.

Oh, yeah.

Right.

“Well…To be honest, I’m not sure.” You utter as you look out the front window in thought.

“I think love avoids me.”

Sunghoon just snorts.

You snap your head over to him in question before leaning forward and resting your head on the dashboard rest.

“What? I’m being serious.”

“Is this what they call a beige flag? It doesn’t feel red or green really.” He says jokingly, his body leaning forward to rest his head and arms on the wheel to meet you face to face again.

“Sunghoon what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know—I just feel like you’re a walking beige flag. You seem to be emotionally available but act like you’re not for whatever reason-“

“Act like I’m not?”

“Yes, you act. You’re a walking love scheme.”

Your face twists into almost hurt.

“That doesn’t really sound like a compliment.”

“It is one because you’re like the perfect version you were talking about,” He says, “…you’re like a perfect love scheme.”

The silence that follows his words is nerve-racking, and you can attribute it to the mutual understanding that a perfect love scheme in itself is a perfectly imperfect thing. Something that happens when it’s not supposed to, yet works out just right. Something worthy of a chance—one could go as far as to say it was something strung by fate.

Through the long silence between you both, you try to gather your thoughts in order to stop your fast-beating heart. After a few minutes of you both in deep thought, you start to take note of Sunghoon’s sleepy form getting very comfortable against the wheel.

“Y/n-“ Sunghoon starts before being cut off by his own yawn, “…quit limiting your love potential—especially if it’s what you desire deep down.” He says like it’s the most simple thing on Earth, just as his eyes struggle to stay open.

A smile makes its way onto your face. You watch as Sunghoon quite literally falls asleep on the wheel of his car, pretty dark long lashes resting against his pale cheeks, beauty marks adorning him perfectly.

He was perfect.

—

Sunghoon wakes up to the sound of a car honking, almost startling him into a heart attack. He doesn’t know where he is for a good five minutes and it takes him another two to realize that he’s in a car in general. His head hurts, he feels sticky, and his neck is so sore from laying forward on the wheel all night.

Why the fuck am I sleeping behind the wheel?

A little blurry look around and he spots a slushy cup.

Wait…

The memories come racing back to him like a banana slushy to the ceiling, and suddenly he remembers it all; why he’s sticky, why he’s in his car parked in front of a playground, why he’s in his party atire and why he feels so giddy at the sight of a slushy cup.

You.

He scans his passenger and back seat and when they both come up negative, he starts to wonder if it was all just a dream.

Where did you go?

He remembers the dancing, your friends, the gas station, sitting in the car and talking; your laugh.

The love scheme.

Could you have really left without a trace?

Did he say some dumb shit when he was tired that scared you off?

He didn’t even get to take you home.

It’s only when he turns on his car do the windshield wipers go ballistic and a yellow piece of paper swiping back and forth across his front window answers his many questions. It takes three seconds tops for him to turn off his car, get out of it, and run around to the front so he could grab the note. His smile is so cheesy and bright, and he probably looks a mess as he goes to sit on the hood of his car to read it.

It’s like it’s the ultimate answer to everything—the feeling stirring in his stomach reminded him of passing notes to pretty girls in grade school with the papers littered in boxes you could check yes or no off of. He felt the time it took to unfold the paper was like a thousand years too—had Christmas come early?

When he finally managed to read the words written on the note he feels his heart just might combust.

banana boy, if you’re reading this, a friend came to pick me up when i woke up this morning. no matter what i did, you wouldn’t wake up…that seems like a beige flag to me idk. anyways, here’s my number if you’d like to stop scheming with me: 000-000-0000. if you still want to scheme, i’m sorry, i can’t anymore. someone told me to stop limiting my love potential. — y/n

Sunghoon doesn’t know what country he’s saved in his previous life, and as he rethinks every good deed he’s ever done to come up with an explanation for you and the ten digits on this yellow paper, he swears his cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard.

Laying back on the hood of his car, he places his arm over his face as he can no longer contain the chuckles that leave his mouth.

You were real.

Your pretty smile as you chuckled at his stupid jokes in the darkness of his car. Your smirks and frowns and the glint behind your irises. He remembers the laughs and the not-so-subtle touches, and last but certainly not least, he remembers your soft lips on his at the night club earlier that night.

He met you in the club for christ’s sake.

A love scheme personified was what you both were; completely placed on paths that weren’t supposed to meet at all, let alone enjoy that meeting. It was almost laughable, because he swears he more than just enjoyed that meeting a little bit; why did he feel…changed?

Sunghoon no longer felt the need to ever go home because that’s where you weren’t. He can’t help but think about how no matter how sticky the situation got the day before, the way you laughed and supported him through the day, and merely how you simply saw him, had him feeling you were more than just a potential future-fling.

Sunghoon was going to quit his job.

Sunghoon was going to spend his life trying to find the person who said you couldn’t find love in the club so he could shove a banana down their throat.

Sunghoon was completely and utterly taken by the thought of you; no schemes involved.

He’d like to thank the academy, his pushy fucked up friends, his mother for birthing him—no!

Your mother for birthing you.

“Ah…my neck really fucking hurts,” He mutters through a chuckle and pretty upturned lips as he stares up into the bright blue sky. “…I should call Heeseung and Jake,”

“…or should I call her now?”

“…would that be lame?”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[make-me-imagine]

My Person

Plot: Thinking you are going to be alone on Valentines day. You receive a surprise visit from your best-friend and secret crush.

Prompts: "I saw this and thought of you." + 'Receiving flowers with secret meanings.' and "What are these for?" "Valentines Day." "Why?" + 'First Confession'

Pairing: Shang-Chi x Gn!Reader

Requested By: @youngcroissantturkeyworribler

Warnings: Kiss at the end.

Words: 1.6k

-

As you bit into another Valentines chocolate, you sighed, staring out the window. You wanted to go out, but the city was crowded, busy with all the couples wandering around town.

You hated that the idea of walking around alone on Valentines Day made you feel bad, it shouldn't, there as nothing wrong with it, you knew that. But you couldn't seem to leave the house anyways.

It had been years since you last celebrated Valentines Day, and you had to admit, you kind of missed it. You liked that there was a holiday were you could be more romantic than normal, be more cheesy than normal, and it didn't come off as weird.

You didn't mind being single, but there were parts of being in a relationship that you missed. The dates, the inside-jokes, the intimacy.

Without meaning it to, you suddenly thought of Shang-Chi. You wondered what he was doing right now.

Did he have a date? No, he would have told you about that. Wouldn't he?

You felt your chest clench. Even if he did, you wouldn't want to hear about it.

When Valentines Day approached, you couldn't ignore the daydream of him finally asking you out. Confirming if he had feelings for you once and for all. Finally telling you if those times you caught him staring at you, or the jealousy he seemed to show when guys hit on you were all signs he had feelings for you.

But it was now Valentines Day, and he hadn't said a peep. He hadn't even brought it up at all.

Looking over at a set of drawers in your living room, you thought of the gift you bought him that was now shoved away in the drawer. You hoped you would be able to give it to him today, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen. You figured you'd save it, maybe until his birthday.

A few days before when you were with Shang-Chi, you tried to naturally bring up the topic of Valentines Day.

You were passing a flower shop and you pointed out all the flowers. Pointing to a guy buying yellow carnations.

"Yikes." You whispered out.

"What?" Shang-Chi asked.

"Yellow carnations, bad idea."

"Why?"

"They mean rejection and disappointment"

Shang-Chi looked back over at the man and frowned "Let's hope whoever he's buying them for doesn't know that."

You chuckled before pointing at yellow roses "Those are often meant as a symbol of friendship, but often mean infidelity and jealousy, and used to be used as a symbol of betrayal and separation. Wouldn't wanna buy those for your Valentine either."

He chuckled "How do you know all this?"

You shrugged "One of my first jobs in high-school was working part-time in a flower shop. I loved learning about all the secret meanings behind them."

He grinned at you and your heart fluttered. You loved when he looked at you like that.

Walking over to one of the flower-shop workers, you picked a single flower and bought it. Shang-Chi watched you with curiosity.

Walking back over to him, you handed him a sunflower.

He took it gently and met your eyes "What does this mean?"

You smiled "Friendship"

Though sunflowers could be associated with friendship. Their truer meaning was that of loyalty, adoration and pure love, but you didn't feel brave enough to say that.

You were shaken from your thoughts as you heard your doorbell ring. Humming in curiosity at the sudden visitor, you walked to the door and peaked through the peep-hole. Seeing Shang-Chi in the hall, you felt your heart skip a beat.

What was he doin here?

Opening the door, you tried to hide your surprise with a smile "Shang-Chi, hey!" You said cheerfully.

He grinned at you "Hey."

"What's up?"

He shrugged as he lifted up a bag from your favorite food-spot "I thought I might stop by to see if you were hungry."

Your chest was tight as butterflies raged through your stomach. "How do you always know when I'm hungry?" You joked.

He shrugged his head and smiled "Friend intuition."

As you stepped aside, Shang-Chi walked in and made his way to the kitchen. You watched him for a moment as you tried to steady your breath. You wondered if he remembered today was Valentines Day, or if it had slipped his mind entirely.

Taking out the food, you and Shang-Chi fell into a familiar pattern. Sitting across from each other at the kitchen island, dividing the food and talking about your day. But you noticed Shang-Chi had an odd demeanor around him. You watched him closely as he picked at his food.

Looking up he caught you and froze for a second "What?"

You set down your fork and stared at him for a moment "Something's wrong."

He sat up a bit as he looked around at the food "What, did I forget something?"

You shook your head "I mean with you, your all fidgety, like you can't sit still, what's going on?"

Shang-Chi opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but he paused before taking in a deep breath and letting it out. Tapping the kitchen island a few times, you watched as he stood up and made his way towards the door.

"Shang-Chi?" You asked as you stood up. Was he leaving? Did you do something to upset him?

Shang-Chi opened the door and stepped out, but left your door open. You stood still as you watched him round the corner before he appeared again. Your breath caught in your throat as he held a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

He seemed nervous as he closed the door and walked up to you. As he handed you the flowers, you were speechless.

Finally finding your words, you spoke softly, "What are these for?" You knew, but you need to hear it.

"Valentines Day."

You met his eyes, and everything you wanted to ask came out in only one word "Why?"

Slowly, he pointed out each type of flower and spoke softly "Light red carnations for affection, pink peonies for attraction and passion, and primrose...meaning 'I can't live without you', and-" he pointed to a single sunflower in the middle of the bouquet "-adoration and pure-"

"-love." You finished for him as you slowly met his eyes.

He shrugged his head softly as he smiled shyly "After you gave me that sunflower, I looked it up, I knew you had to know all the meanings. And I hoped, that- that it meant you felt the same as me. So, I spent all night researching various flowers and then all morning finding the right bouquet to give you."

You gently ran your fingers over the flowers "The same as you?" You said in a whisper. Did that mean, what you had hoped he felt, was right?

He tilted his head as he looked at you "Do you?" He asked, a subtle hint of fear in his voice.

You nodded your head as smile played at your lips "Yes."

His smile grew into a grin as you saw him relax a bit.

Suddenly remembering the gift you got him, you stood up straighter "Oh!"

Shang-Chi watched as you went over to the drawer and pulled something out. Bringing it over to him, you had suddenly become a bit more shy as you handed it to him.

"I saw this and thought of you."

He took it gently from you as he smiled, surprised that you had anything for him. Opening it, he saw a stone beaded bracelet in various colors.

"It's jade, tigers eye and onyx." You said softly.

He smiled as he lifted it up, feeling the smooth stones in his fingers. He met your eyes again "I love it."

You smiled, warmth crawling over your face.

"When did you get this?" He asked curiously.

You laughed softly "A few days ago. I wanted to give it to you today, but I wasn't sure if...well."

"If I felt the same?" He finished and you chucked.

"Yeah."

Sliding the bracelet onto his wrist, he set the box down before taking the flowers from you. Setting them aside, he turned to look at you again and let out a soft breath as he shook his head.

"I hate that it took me so long to say anything."

You shook your head softly "It wasn't just you, I didn't say anything either."

He took a step closer to you and took your hands in his "Either way, we shouldn't waste anymore time, right?"

You smiled "Right."

"Ever since we became friends, I knew I loved you. You were my person. I just didn't realize how deep it all really was."

"You're my person to Shang-Chi."

Gripping your hand a bit tighter, he slowly pulled you closer to him. Your chests touched as his free hand rested on your waist. Your noses brushed gently as he stared into your eyes.

"I really don't think I can live without you, you know."

You smiled softly, he really did feel everything you did.

"Ditto."

He grinned before he pressed his forehead against your softly. You closed your eyes and took in a breath embracing how close he was. Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest as you felt his lips brush yours. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut as you felt his lips press fully against yours.

Leaning into the kiss, as you felt electricity seem to flow through you, your gripped his jacket with your hand. His hand wrapped around your back as he pulled you closer.

Various emotions and feelings rushed through you, as you held onto each other. And it all felt perfect, it all felt right.

xx End xx

I really hate ending fics, it never feels natural lol. I hoped you enjoyed though~

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