#now I’m sad this never happened to me when I finally played by myself

[samuraisharkie]

girl help I’m experiencing that common yet elusive late night motivation to get my life together knowing it will fall apart in the morning </3 girl fucking help me

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. ��Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?” 

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?” 

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.” 

“Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?” 

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.” 

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!” 

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”  

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.” 

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have. 

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys. 

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment. 

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either. 

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?” 

“A little bit.” 

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop. 

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now. 

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly. 

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.” 

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.” 

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.” 

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him. 

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!” 

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right? 

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well. 

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water. 

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you. 

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already. 

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you. 

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself. 

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision. 

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you. 

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call. 

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects. 

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else. 

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?” 

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—” 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.” 

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here. 

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you. 

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually. 

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol. 

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is. 

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.” 

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug. 

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.” 

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.” 

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.” 

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts. 

“Not from you!” 

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?” 

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.” 

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?” 

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.” 

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Should we—” 

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first. 

“We should probably get going.” 

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?” 

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in. 

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call. 

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road. 

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.” 

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later. 

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel. 

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—” 

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.” 

“Oh. Cool.” 

“Is it?” 

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.” 

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper. 

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more. 

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here. 

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals. 

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room. 

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.  

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.” 

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.” 

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.” 

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.” 

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.” 

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?” 

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?” 

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.” 

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe? 

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror. 

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this. 

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time. 

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him. 

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.” 

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

“Friends are there for each other.” 

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?” 

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.” 

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together. 

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance. 

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.” 

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job. 

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up. 

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling. 

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations. 

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle. 

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened. 

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own. 

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet. 

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration. 

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level. 

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.” 

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.” 

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.” 

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other. 

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.” 

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand. 

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?” 

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?” 

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.” 

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.” 

“Lando, I—” 

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.” 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too. 

Fuck it. 

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there. 

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question. 

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again. 

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.” 

“No! We should talk about this. Us.” 

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.” 

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.” 

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

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[bee-wg]

Year 3:

Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 

I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.

“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.

“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.

“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.

“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.

“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.

“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.

“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.

“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.

“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.

“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.

There might be an oversight of me quitting football.

It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.

How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?

“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.

Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.

My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.

Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.

No. Hard no.

Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.

Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.

Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

No? No, actually it might just work.

My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.

With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.

It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.

“Oh! First comment already.” I said.

“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”

3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.

The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.

I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.

“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.

“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”

“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.

“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.

“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said

“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.

“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 

“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.

“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.

Theo stares at us with wide eyes.

“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.

“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.

I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.

“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.

“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.

Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.

“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.

“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.

“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.

Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.

“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.

“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.

I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.

“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”

Huh?

Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.

I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?

So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.

With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.

The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.

It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.

On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 

My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.

I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.

***

Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.

I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.

Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.

Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.

I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.

After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.

"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.

Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.

“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.

His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.

“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.

“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.

“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.

I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.

He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.

“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.

“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 

He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.

“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.

I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.

Big mistake.

He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.

After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.

He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.

“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.

“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.

My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.

“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.

I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 

He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.

“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.

I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?

I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 

With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.

He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.

Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 

It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.

He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—

“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.

“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.

I must have been too loud and spooked him.

“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.

“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged

“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.

How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.

“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.

He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.

“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.

He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.

“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.

Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.

He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 

I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.

“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.

“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.

Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.

“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.

”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.

He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!

“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.

The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.

Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.

“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 

“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.

“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.

“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 

“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.

“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.

“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.

“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.

I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.

My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.

As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.

“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.

“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?

“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”

Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.

“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.

Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.

The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.

“Shit, I ran out here naked.”

When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.

When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.

***

Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 

The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 

With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.

Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.

Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.

***

“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.

He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.

“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  

The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 

“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.

“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.

Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.

The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.

300-350-392-400-443

Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 

With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.

“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.

I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.

Theo stepped closer and read. 

“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.

“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.

The scale made a “Pop” noise.

“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.

“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.

“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.

Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.

“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 

After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.

Chapter 4 ->

[brookghaib-blog]

Shattered Dreams pt.3

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

an: There you go, this is the final part, enjoy.

Summary: Y/N navigates a loveless marriage to Hoshina Soshiro

pt.2

The cozy coffee shop was bustling with activity, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet aroma of pastries. Y/N sat at a corner table, her baby daughter happily babbling in a high chair beside her. It had been a couple of months since she had met Gen Narumi, and in that time, their friendship had blossomed. They often met for coffee, sharing stories and finding solace in each other’s company.

Today, however, was different. Y/N’s heart was heavy with the weight of a decision she had been contemplating for some time. As she sipped her coffee, her eyes drifted to the door, watching for Gen’s arrival.

Moments later, he walked in, his presence immediately comforting. He smiled warmly as he approached, taking a seat across from her.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. “How are you and the little one doing today?”

“We’re good,” Y/N replied, her smile genuine but tinged with a hint of sadness. “She’s been growing so fast.”

Gen glanced at the baby, who was playing with a soft toy, her eyes bright with curiosity. “She’s adorable,” he said, reaching out to gently touch her tiny hand. “You’re doing an amazing job with her, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Gen,” she said, her voice soft. “I needed to hear that.”

As they settled into their conversation, Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her. Gen had a way of making her feel seen and understood, a stark contrast to the loneliness she often felt at home.

“Gen,” she began hesitantly, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He looked at her, his expression attentive and concerned. “What is it, Y/N?”

She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his. “I’ve been thinking about getting a divorce,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. “I’ve been miserable for so long, and nothing has really changed between Soshiro and me. He’s never home, and when he is, it’s like we’re strangers living under the same roof.”

Gen’s eyes softened with understanding. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this, Y/N. You deserve so much better.”

“It’s not just about me,” she continued, her gaze drifting to her daughter. “It’s about her too. I don’t want her to grow up in an environment where there’s no love or affection. She deserves a happy home, and I can’t give that to her if I’m constantly unhappy.”

Gen reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “You’re incredibly brave for considering this,” he said gently. “It’s not an easy decision, but sometimes it’s the right one. Have you talked to Soshiro about how you feel?”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve tried, but he never listens. He’s so consumed with his work, and he doesn’t see what’s happening right in front of him. He’s never even acknowledged my paintings or my success. It’s like I don’t exist to him outside of being his wife and the mother of his child.”

Gen squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Your work is incredible, Y/N. You’ve built something amazing, and you deserve to be recognized for that. If Soshiro can’t see it, that’s his loss.”

She had been so afraid of taking this step, of facing the unknown, but Gen’s unwavering support gave her strength. She glanced at her daughter, who was now dozing peacefully in her high chair, and felt a renewed determination.

“I want to be happy, Gen,” she said, her voice firm. “I want to build a life where I can be myself, where my daughter can see what it means to be strong and independent. I can’t do that if I stay in this marriage.”

Gen nodded, his eyes filled with admiration. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Y/N. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As they finished their coffee and prepared to leave, Y/N felt a sense of hope for the first time in a long while. The path ahead was uncertain, but she knew she was not alone. Gen’s friendship and support were a lifeline, guiding her through the darkness and toward a brighter future.

Outside the coffee shop, the sun was shining brightly, a reflection of the new possibilities that lay ahead. Y/N took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs and invigorating her spirit.

“Let’s walk for a bit,” Gen suggested, offering his arm. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Y/N smiled, accepting his arm as they strolled down the street. Her daughter gurgled happily, the warmth of the sun and the love of her mother enveloping her.

As they walked through the park, Y/N and Gen continued to talk about her plans and dreams. Her daughter, now awake, was fascinated by the trees and flowers, reaching out to touch the petals as they passed by.

“I’ve been thinking about moving,” Y/N said, her voice thoughtful. “Somewhere with more space for my studio and where my daughter can grow up surrounded by nature.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Gen replied, his eyes brightening at the thought. “A fresh start could be exactly what you need. Have you found any places yet?”

“A few,” Y/N admitted, smiling. “I’ve been looking at some houses in the countryside. It’s peaceful there, and I think it would be good for both of us.”

Gen nodded, his expression encouraging. “It sounds perfect. I’m sure you’ll find the right place soon. And remember, I’m always here to help if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Gen,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Your support means the world to me. I'm going to his office later, I doubt that he will give me the time of day but maybe he will listen.”

They continued their walk, enjoying the tranquility of the park. Y/N felt a sense of liberation, a newfound freedom that came with the realization that she was in control of her own destiny. With Gen’s friendship and the love for her daughter as her guiding lights, she was ready to embrace the future and all the possibilities it held.

--

The sun was beginning to set as Y/N arrived at the Defense Force base with her baby daughter in tow. Determined to speak to Soshiro face-to-face, she navigated through the bustling corridors, occasionally stopping to ask about his whereabouts. Each person she spoke to mentioned that he was busy, but she persisted, unwilling to leave until she had confronted him.

Eventually, she reached his office. With a sigh of relief, Y/N pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was neat and organized, a reflection of Soshiro’s meticulous nature. Her daughter was sleeping peacefully in her stroller, and Y/N decided to explore the office while waiting for him.

As she looked around, her eyes fell upon Soshiro’s desk. Among the papers and files, she noticed a framed photograph of herself and their daughter. It was a candid moment captured during a family outing, their smiles bright and genuine. Seeing the picture brought a pang of mixed emotions – nostalgia for happier times mingled with sadness over their current situation.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N began to sift through the papers on his desk. That was when she stumbled upon a drawer that contained several photographs, neatly arranged and carefully preserved. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the face in the pictures – Makoto.

In the photographs, Soshiro and Makoto were captured in moments of laughter and camaraderie, their bond evident in the easy smiles and shared experiences frozen in time. Y/N’s hands trembled as she picked up one of the pictures, her eyes fixed on the two men who had played such pivotal roles in her life.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening behind her startled Y/N. She turned quickly to see Soshiro entering the office, his expression a mix of surprise and apprehension. His eyes widened as he noticed her standing by his desk, the photographs in her hand.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice cautious. “What are you doing here?”

She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. “I... I was looking for you,” she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Soshiro stepped closer, his gaze flickering between her and the photographs. “What have you found?” he asked quietly, his tone tinged with sadness.

Y/N looked down at the picture in her hand, her heart aching with unanswered questions. “How... how did you know Makoto?” she asked, her voice trembling.

For a long moment, Soshiro remained silent, his eyes fixed on the photographs. Finally, he spoke, his voice raw with emotion. “He was... he was my best friend,” he admitted, his words heavy with unspoken grief. “We grew up together, trained together... fought together.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “Did he ever...mentioned something of me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Soshiro turned to face her fully, his expression pained. “I always knew.” he confessed quietly. “From the moment your named was mentioned by my father I already knew. Makoto woudn't stop mentioning you.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as the weight of his words sank in.

"He died protecting me and now I'm living his life. Did you know that?" His breath began to be more difficult as each word came out of his mouth "He was suppose to be the Vice-Captain, he was stronger, wiser, he was suppose to marry you, our daughter was suppose to be his. I couldn't do anything and gained everything he desired and worked for... He told me to protect you, did you know that? I've never met you before our wedding but somehow he wanted me to do something he was supposed to do. Everytime I look at you I remmember that this life belongs to someone else who deserved it, someone who deserved you, you never knew me but treated me as if you wanted me with you, how could I be a husband you don't belong to me."

Y/N got up from his chair looking at him, crying, from his memories, from his feelings, because she knew now, that he always was aware that she fantasized about Makoto being in his place.

"How come you never told anything, we could have worked it out, we could have helped each other soshiro, do you know how much I've suffering from having a husband who wouldn't even look my way?"

"How could I? Would you play pretend when you knew you stolen someone elses life? He died and I got everything he wanted, he died protecting me and got the love of his life as a wife, carrying my child, at the alter with me, not him. I know, I know I've been a complete asshole, but how come I do all that I get you to be all nice to me, doing everything for me, treating me with respect, when it was I who took your happiness Y/N? answer me." Soshiro let it all out, tears running down his face, his voice breaking, his actions putting the weight on his back, the emotions now being exposed.

Y/N didn't know what to do anymore, she came here knowing the solution for her problems, getting away, living free, and now, in a matter of minutes. Soshiro was now the last thing Makoto left her.

She hugged him, she didn't know why really. "He was the smartest man I've ever meet, I know that, if he asked you something he knew you were capable of it, it was either you or him who would die that day, and I know very well he didn't even give you time of reaction, he would always put other in front of him, it was the only thing I hated about him, it was what took him...but you're here, you didn't stole him, he gave it to you because he knew that you were the only person who could do things the same way as he would've."

He rested his hand on her head, looking at her. "I bought the painting."

Y/N confused, now looking up at him, she asked "What painting?"

"The one you made for him."

--

The soft glow of evening settled over Y/N and Soshiro's home, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. It had been a day of unexpected revelations and tentative steps toward healing. Y/N stood in the living room, her gaze fixed on a painting that now adorned their wall. It was the painting she had made for Makoto, a piece that had found its way to the gallery and been purchased by an anonymous buyer.

She turned to Soshiro, who stood nearby, his expression unreadable. "How… how did you know about my paintings being at the gallery?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of disbelief.

Soshiro hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of guilt and resolve. "Narumi," he finally admitted. "He came to me one day, teasing me about having met my wife and how beautiful you were, joking that he might steal you away. He's an idiot, but I know he has been a great friend to you."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Gen told you about me?" she asked, her mind racing with questions.

Soshiro nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "He told me how he had met you at the gallery, and how you had shared stories about your past and your paintings," he explained, his voice softening with each word. "He also warned me, Y/N. He said that I would lose you if I didn't make an effort to understand and cherish what we have."

-flashback-

Soshiro stood outside the gallery, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. He had come here at Narumi's insistence, curious and somewhat apprehensive about what he might discover. Inside, the gallery buzzed with activity, the soft murmur of voices and the occasional clink of glasses creating a backdrop to the vibrant display of art.

Narumi found him near a display of Y/N's paintings, a knowing smile on his face as he approached. "Soshiro," he greeted, his voice laced with amusement. "I see you've finally made it."

Soshiro regarded him warily. "What are you doing here, Narumi?" he asked, his tone guarded.

Narumi chuckled softly. "I came to see the paintings, of course," he replied, gesturing toward the artwork on the walls. "And to learn more about the talented woman who captured my attention."

Soshiro frowned, a pang of unease settling in his chest. "What do you mean?"

Narumi turned to him, his expression serious. "I mean your wife, Soshiro," he said quietly. "She's remarkable. Her paintings… they speak to something deeper, something that resonates with anyone who takes the time to look."

Soshiro's gaze softened, a flicker of pride mingling with uncertainty. "I know she's talented," he admitted quietly. "But I haven't been… I haven't been the husband she deserves. I've been doing nothing but make her hate me, however, I wish she would, her heart is too big for her own good."

Narumi regarded him thoughtfully. "No, you haven't," he agreed, his tone gentle but firm. "But it's not too late, Soshiro. You can still show her how much she means to you."

-present time-

Y/N listened intently as Soshiro recounted his conversation with Narumi, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions. She had never expected Narumi to play such a pivotal role in their lives, to be the catalyst for a conversation that had brought them closer together.

"Why did you buy the painting?" she asked softly, her eyes lingering on the artwork that now graced their home.

Soshiro took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "Because I knew it was for Makoto," he confessed quietly. "Narumi told me about your conversations, about your love for him and the pain of losing him. I wanted… I wanted to show you that I understand, Y/N. That I want to honor your memories, Makoto was also everything to me in a way."

Y/N felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Soshiro's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for understanding."

Soshiro stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears. "And I'm sorry for never telling you. For never explaining, I... I don't deserve to have you both, specially our babygirl, I've neglecting my own child because I didn't want to move on."

She nodded" It's not ok, no. But you will make it up for it, just don't make me regret giving you this opportunity, I came to the office to go away from you. My daughter is not growing up to the same enviroment as I did."

--

The gentle afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in Y/N and Soshiro's living room. Their daughter, now a lively toddler, giggled and toddled around the room, chasing after a colorful toy. Y/N watched her with a tender smile, her heart full of love for the little girl who had brought so much joy into their lives.

Soshiro sat beside Y/N on the couch, his eyes fixed on their daughter with a mixture of pride and affection. They had come a long way since the tumultuous days that had tested their marriage. Now, they found solace in these quiet moments together as a family.

Y/N turned to Soshiro, her gaze searching yet hesitant. "Soshiro," she began softly, "do you think it's possible… for you to see me as beautiful? To fall in love with me?"

Soshiro's brow furrowed slightly, his expression thoughtful. "Y/N," he replied earnestly, "I've always thought you were beautiful. From the moment I first saw you, I was struck by your strength, your kindness, and your unwavering determination."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a flicker of hope stirring within her. "Then why…" she started, her voice trembling slightly, "why couldn't you treat me right? Why did you push me away?"

Soshiro sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his confession. "It was never about you, Y/N," he admitted quietly. "Makoto was… he was like a brother to me. When he died, I couldn't bear the thought of taking his place in your heart. Of treating you as mine."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to him speak, her heart aching with the pain of their shared history. "Is that why…" she hesitated, gathering her courage, "is that why you named our daughter that name?"

Soshiro looked at her, his gaze filled with regret. "Yes," he confessed softly. "I thought… I thought you would appreciate the gesture, even if at the time you thought I chose the name randomly."

Y/N nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "I see," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't how I never suspected…"

Silence settled between them, punctuated only by the sound of their daughter's laughter as she played nearby. Y/N felt a mix of emotions swirling within her – sadness for the loss they had both endured, but also a glimmer of understanding and forgiveness.

"Soshiro," Y/N said softly, breaking the silence, "I… I want to believe that we can move forward from this. That we can build something real between us."

Soshiro reached out and took her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I want that too, Y/N," he replied earnestly, kissing her hand.

She looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability that he rarely showed. "Can you try?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope. "Can you try to see me, to really see me, and cherish me?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Soshiro's lips. "I'll do it." he admitted quietly. "And I think… I think I'm already falling in love with you, Y/N. You've not been invisible to me, the way you treated me, how proud you were of me... a man is easily defeated by a woman like you."

Tears spilled over Y/N's cheeks, this time tears of relief and joy. She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. In that embrace, they found a fragile yet precious moment of peace – a promise of a future filled with love, understanding, and the courage to heal old wounds.

Their daughter toddled over to them, reaching up with chubby hands to be lifted into her father's arms. Soshiro lifted her effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she giggled in delight.

"You'll be as beautifull and talented as your mother, one day, hopefully, you'll get to follow my steps and take Ahiru's place as my Captain, Makoto."

[fairyofshampgyu]

Missed you

genre: smut, fluff

Summary: beomgyu sends you a very inappropriate video of himself whilst you’re at work.

Pairing: beomgyu x gn reader (afab tho when it comes to smut)

Warnings: smut, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, bratty beomgyu, use of vibrator, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, beomgyu is a brat

Word count: 2.2k

You made yourself some breakfast, ready to leave for work any second when you feel a pair of arms wrapping around you from behind, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Wow I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.” You chuckle and turn your head around to look at beomgyu who had his eyes closed as he hugged you, lashes kissing his cheek and fluffy hair all messy with his puffy face from just waking up. Sleepy beomgyu is the cutest.

“Just come back to bed with mee…please. Call in sick or something.” He says in his (extremely attractive) deep morning voice.

“Gyu, you know I want to but I can’t. I have to go to work.”

“Pleaseee. Want to stay in with you.” He opens his eyes now, sulking at you slightly.

“I can’t, baby.”

“Fuck, you look so good in that suit too.” His eyes travel down to your work clothes. And he starts placing soft little kisses on your neck as he still hugged you. You know if he does it any longer you’d give in.

“I can’t. Gotta go now, beomgyu. Bye.” You give him a quick peck on the lips turning to quickly get to the door but he takes your hand, whining at you.

“Excuse me where’s my proper kiss?! And what the fuck is a ‘beomgyu’ I’m literally your baby or your love or beomie, gyu, honey, darling? Where is the love?!” He pouts, crossing his arms at you.

“I’m gonna be late…” You mumble but go back to beomgyu, giving him a ‘proper’ kiss that was more loveable enough for him. “I’m gonna go now. I love you, gyu.”

“Make sure you come back quick!”

The universe was being impossibly cruel to Beomgyu today.

On the one day he has free, where he finally doesn’t have a busy schedule and doesn’t have to go to work, preparing for a comeback or performance, tour, etc, where he just wanted to spend his day with you, you just so happened to not have a free day and having to go to work. Plans ruined.

It didn’t help at all that Beomgyu was so fucking horny right now, mind consumed by not so cute thoughts of you and you weren’t even here and wouldn’t even be back until late. What should he do? Should he just jerk off?

An idea suddenly struck him, a cryptic grin appearing on his face as he thought about it. It’d be so fun to rile you up and see what you’d do when you came home.

He set up his phone and began to fuck himself, pumping his dick up and down and playing with his nipples since he knows you like it, making sure to moan your name and never looking away from the camera. Once he came, he stopped the recording and sent the video to you immediately, chuckling.

You were finally on your well deserved lunch break, grabbing some coffee and heading back to your desk, checking your phone’s notifications.

You had a message from beomgyu:

Beoms🧸🎸: I miss you…☹️

With an attachment but you couldn’t view it since it was your notifications. You smile. You’re guessing it’s probably just a picture of him making an over dramatic sad face since he sends you pictures of himself pretty much every day. You found his silly selfies so endearing.

“Is that your boyfriend? Aw he’s so sweet! Wish my girlfriend would send me messages like that every day. She hasn’t even messaged me at all today. Not even a good morning text.” Your friend Yunjin peeks at your phone and sulks.

You laugh, “He was trying to convince me to not come in today, saying I should call in sick.”

“Honestly you should have listened to him. One more day here and I’m gonna off myself.”

“So true.” You groan, remembering the workload you had to do after this break and knowing you still weren’t even half way through finishing for the day yet.

“Couple of us are going to that cafe across the street for lunch right now. You coming?” Yunjin asks.

“Yeah I’ll be there in a second.”

So she walks out to meet up with your other colleagues.

You click on Beomgyu’s message and seeing the attachment was a video. You wonder what it could be of.

Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that.

Your eyes go wide, the loud volume you’re met with and the video making you jump in your seat; an obscene recording of your boyfriend fucking himself. You cautiously glance around, thanking god everyone had already gone to lunch. Anybody could have seen this! Imagine what would have happened! That’s probably what he wanted anyway, you thought. He can be such a whore sometimes.

You could tell he was just putting up a show for you to make you extra crazy for him from the way he was moaning excessively and loudly over nothing, overdramatising and exaggerating his expressions and whining out your name saying he ‘needs you so bad’ and never losing eye contact with the camera. You can see the stupid smirk on his face after he cums and stops the video.

What a little shit.

You send him a text back.

Y/n: just wait and see what happens when I get back home.

You opened the door to your place immediately, barging into your bedroom where you saw beomgyu sitting on the bed, watching a show.

“You came back earlier.” He states, pausing what he was watching.

You take your blazer off and start unbuttoning your shirt, moving towards him.

“What are you doing y/n?” Beomgyu looked at you, playing dumb and trying to feign innocence. But he wasn’t very good at conveying it.

“Don’t play dumb with me, baby. What the fuck were you doing sending me that?”

“I just sent you a message saying I missed you.” He looks up at you, faux puppy eyes and a grin trying not to etch onto his face.

“Yeah, and after that message?”

“Ohhh. That. That was just a little…present.” He tries to stifle his laugh, attempting to maintain nonchalant.

“Fucking yourself while I’m not there? And sending it to me in my workplace? Where anybody could have seen? That’s not you being very good.”

“So? What are you gonna do about it?” He has a shit eating grin on his face now.

“Take your clothes off.”

“No. You do it for me.” He lays back, slightly smirking.

“You’re gonna be even more of a fucking brat today are you? I’m not gonna do it for you, if you don’t then you’re just gonna get nothing. So either take off your clothes yourself or I’m leaving.”

There’s a stare off between you both as he decides whether he should push you further or not and he narrows his eyes at you, but he decides against it, complying in the end and taking off his shirt and pants. You’re not that patient today. He still makes a scene about it though, huffing and rolling his eyes as he takes it off annoyingly slow.

“Such a fucking slutty brat sending me that aren’t you?” You sneer at him and he moans as you begin to palm him. “Trying to rile me up? You’ll regret it so much after I’m done with you.” He moans even more.

You take his dick into your hand, starting to jerk him off whilst sucking hickeys into his neck. Just a few minutes later of pumping his dick and he’s already going to cum, but you abruptly stop and then get your vibrator to put it on him. Then you just watch as he writhes under it, whining in protest.

“Y/nnn please-ah- want you to touch me instead please.”

“You’re so dumb, baby. Do you really think you’re gonna get anything you want?”

He looks so pretty like that. Vibrator on his dick, looking at you pitifully as all you do is watch him. You turn the settings up higher and he throws his head back, shutting his eyes. You put it even higher and to the highest setting until his whole body is shaking at it, looking like he’s vibrating too and he’s none stop moaning. And then when he’s just about to orgasm again, you turn it completely off.

He snaps his head at you and gasps, completely stunned as if he forgot that he was being a brat just a few moments before and that this isn’t something you would totally do. This is going to be so fun.

You lose count of how many times you do this, putting the vibrator to the highest setting until he’s about to cum and then completely switching it off and starting again. You’re getting a bit bored now honestly but you want to see beomgyu properly break and he hasn’t yet. He can be stubborn sometimes.

This fucking sucks for beomgyu. All he wanted was you and for you to come back and fuck him. But you weren’t even touching him, not even letting him cum! And you’d do it again and again and again and again. He couldn’t really take it anymore. This isn’t what he wanted, he just wanted you! He was so frustrated by now, he just wanted to let it all out and cry about it. And after you don’t even let him cum again for the nth time, his bottom lip wobbles and he can’t contain his crying anymore.

“Y/n please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please, please fuck me.” He’s hiding his face and wailing into his arm. “I’ll be good for you. I promise. I’m sorry, I just…i just missed you. We haven’t been able to spend time together in so long and we haven’t fucked either. I missed you. I’m sorry. Please, fuck me y/n. I’ll be good.” He’s reduced to just a blubbering mess and he gazes up at you looking like a kicked puppy, pleading with his eyes. He looks so pretty like that, his pretty, long eyelashes clumped together with the tears, eyes and nose cutely pink from the crying and his pretty sparkling eyes. “Please…please…” You shush him, taking his face in your palm and wiping his tears.

You’re so weak for him it’s annoying. You’re not even sure if they’re just crocodile tears to get you to do what he wants. You wouldn’t be surprised. He knows You’re weak for him too.

It is true though, what with both of you having busy schedules and work, you haven’t really had the time properly to spend together or fuck each other. It’s been a tiring couple of weeks.

You want it just as bad too. So you straddle him, cupping his face and kissing him, slowly sinking down on his dick, he whimpers and says numerous thank yous. Gasping with his mouth hanging open in a perfect ‘o’ shape with his back arching as you immediately start to ride him at a fast pace, not bothering to start slow and build it up.

“You feel so good-ah-ahh!” He moans at the feeling of your walls finally around his dick. His body bouncing aggressively on the bed beneath you as just use him like a sex toy.

Beomgyu is so unbelievably loud and responsive whenever you fuck him. You love it, but it makes for awkward situations at times. Although, he doesn’t care who hears him at all. In fact, he wants everyone to know he’s being fucked good by you.

“Ahh! Can’t hold it-fuck-need to cum please”

You finally decide to let him and he cries out, eyes rolling backwards and squirting his cum inside you, staying limp for a bit but you don’t stop, fucking him ruthlessly, the lewd and sticky sounds its making echoing around your bedroom.

“Y-y/n-ah- too much, too sensitive…” Beomgyu sniffles, whimpering and gasping at the overstimulation.

“What? you were begging to be fucked and to cum but now you can’t take it, huh?”

He’s about to whine and complain but you take two of your fingers, stuffing them in his mouth to shut him up and he sucks on them instead, gazing up at you with teary eyes and his pretty wet lips.

“So slutty, baby. It’s so sexy.” You say and he muffles somewhat of a coherent thank you.

You bounce on his dick mercilessly, riding him faster and faster and faster to get yourself to cum too, only caring about your high. Beomgyu has his eyes rolling back again as he shakes underneath you, feeling like he could possibly pass out from how you were bouncing on him with absolutely no regard, too fucked out at this point and still sensitive from finally being able to cum a few moments before. And before you know it, he’s cumming unannounced once again, just as fast with a muffled scream, your fingers still in his mouth, sight making you come undone, also cumming around him.

His head rests on yours, panting with sweat glistening his body and his disarrayed bangs slightly damp, whole body flushed and pink. He is so fucked out right now. So beautiful.

You lift his chin to connect your lips with his, kissing him so much.

“I love you.” He pants.

You smile, “I’m so in love with you. You don’t understand.”

“Really? how much?” He giggles.

“Like this much” you widen your arms out, making the space between them big

He throws his head back with his famous windshield wiping laugh, “I don’t think that’s enough I’m gonna be honest.” Beomgyu jokes.

“Well, that’s how far my arms go. You can find someone else with longer arms.” You shrug your shoulders.

“I like your arms just fine actually.” He takes your own arms, wrapping them around his waist and snuggling into you.

Please actually reblog and comment if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 👎😭

[wayfayrr]

Sky being self aware had been plaguing my mind since I wrote this other piece where he confronts you about having played through his game, however while you could read this as a sequel it is written as something separate!

before the main thing though just gonna say, I don't actually support yandere behaviour in real life - I don't usually mention this because in my opinion it goes without saying, however since reader borders a little bit on being one in this I just wanted to make it clear!

[masterlist]

It’s been so long since I last played Skyward Sword, Really I think the last time I picked it up was at least a year ago now. I’d almost forgotten I actually had it on the switch, if it weren’t for me needing to do a clear out I might have never remembered that I had this. I’ve got some spare time right now so really there shouldn’t be an issue if I took a break to play for a while would there? In the worst case I’d get distracted for a bit, but it’s not like I can’t just carry on cleaning tomorrow. Setting up the game was easier than ever, not like setting up any switch game is particularly hard though. My old save was still waiting patiently, I could never bring myself to delete it even after getting a hundred percent. Perhaps it’s finally time to try out hero mode for the first time?

The opening cutscene is nice to watch again, even if I can’t help but feel bad for Link in it, seeing what it’s building up to. Huh? I could’ve sworn my controllers were working a second ago, they can’t have disconnected during the cutscene either, could they?

“[Name]? Dearest… you’ve finally come back…”

What.

It’s like I’ve just been plunged into ice water - I- I’m dreaming right? I have to be, there’s no way this could possibly be real. He’s a game character. Link can’t be speaking to me as if he’s a real person. He can’t be.

“Darling, You - you look so pale are you alright?”

Another step toward the screen, a head-tilt and clear concern on his face. More than possible. I knew it, this has to be a dream.

“Darling, I know that this is strange for you - don’t you think it’s strange for me as well? I mean - I know I’m not supposed to exist as I do. I’m only supposed to be a blank slate for you to play this game as not - not have my own feelings.”

A sharp inhale laced with the sounds of static reverberated throughout the room, with a far too alive sounding sniffle as he wiped his eyes and took yet another step closer. Even eerier was the laugh that followed when he made eye contact with me, something sad and wet sounding like he’s barely holding himself together. It sounds too real.

“It’s been so long I thought that you - I thought that you forgot me. That you weren’t going to come back. I hoped - no I knew - that you didn’t though and you didn’t! You came back to me my love and now I’m not going to let you out of my sight again. I know that it wasn’t your fault that you took so long, I - I mean you didn’t even know that I’m alive but I’m not going to risk it happening again.”

He’s right up against the screen now, staring at me as he presses his hand up against it, like he’s testing it. Gently testing as if he’s trying to see how much pressure the glass can take. If there’s any time best to wake up already it would be now. 

“I’ve been stuck in here alone for so long, if I didn’t have something to focus on I would have gone insane! Can you imagine that? If I didn’t have you to think about all that time I would have lost myself! I was made for you; I know you care about me as well. Please [name] I - I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more, I’m not - not your character. I’m so much more than that empty husk.”

His hand pushes further on the glass as his fingers tense up, now like he’s preparing himself for something. Link, I’ve never seen him - any version of him in any version of the games acting even half as emotive as this. That proves that this is all a dream, he can’t be - this can’t be real. 

“There’s one other thing that being trapped in here for all this time has let me focus on I think I know how to get out now… If I press this just-”

A sickeningly twisted smile found its way onto his face with each shrill crack of the glass screen under his hand. The other moving up to join it as he pushed even harder, intending to shatter the barrier, he’s convinced himself is standing between us. My chest feels so tight right now, why am I so sore in a dream?  If I were awake I’d be convinced I was having a panic attack but - no- no I’m not awake.

“Right. Then - Well you can see can’t you dearest? If I carry on like this, there won’t be any-”

A loud wince as his hand shatters through the screen, the glass shards cutting through his skin effortlessly marring both him and the remaining screen with - with his blood. The laughter that followed the screen cutting to blank with his hand reaching through seemed to tighten the band that’s seemingly wrapped itself around my lungs making it harder still to breathe. How could I breathe when link - the link is dragging himself out of my tv. 

“Come on darling..? I know you feel the same way about me, I’ve heard you say it all. So please don’t just stand there looking terrified. You have no reason to be scared of me, I love you so much [name]. Can’t you see I’m doing this so that we can be together? I can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms.”

Frozen. That’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now, my once-warm blood has turned to ice within my veins. He’s not stopping. His shirt that was once a pale beige is now stained with red patches, as his head and torso are out of the screen now. What was once a comforting face to see, one of my favourite characters is staring me down with a downright vicious grin while he is dripping with his own blood. Even beneath all of that though, there’s still something so tender, so scared about him, something is worrying him.

“Please darling you’re so pale, you don’t need to be scared - I promise you everything is going to be alright. [name] please just say something to me…”

Dark spots are starting to show in my vision now and… I’m not sure if this is a dream anymore. There are too many things adding up that don’t make any sense. But if it’s not that, I don’t…

“[NA]-”

><><><><

Did I pass out? I mean it really feels like I did, but I don’t feel like I hit anything. If I passed out when I was alone then I would’ve hit my head on something. Maybe I’m just waking up from that weird dream. Hopefully. Although that wouldn’t explain -

“You’re alright darling, I’m here. I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re alright.”

Why I feel like someone’s holding me? 

“Oh dearest you’re finally awake… You - you scared me you know? I didn’t think I was going to be able to catch you, that you were going to get hurt. I’m so glad that I did though love.” It wasn’t a dream. That was Link’s voice, the same one as before. It’s link thats holding me in his arms. Link that’s nuzzling into my hair as he seems to be fighting off tears. That means… That means…

“...Everything was real..?  I - you - it…”

He’s holding me so gently like he’s scared of me disappearing. If what he said is true? I can’t hold  that against him with what he’s said, but even still. I can’t just stay in his arms pretending that him stroking my face with bloodstained hands isn’t bothering me. He’s so happy though and he isn’t hurting me really why don't I just - no I have to tell him that this is making me uncomfortable. 

“All of it, all of it was real [name] and I couldn’t be more glad that it is, because it means that I’m finally here with you.”

“Link…”

“Yes dear?”

… this is all real. I’m actually talking to him. He’s real. And he’s downright obsessed with me. 

“You - you’re still bleeding, you should deal with that and- and with everything.”

I’m not sure that was the right thing to say, but why shouldn’t I not accept him. This isn’t some stranger, it’s Link. One of my first fictional crushes, he’s probably heard the things I’ve said about him; since I’ve said in the past if I got a chance like this that I would take it… why not see where this goes? He looks adorable like this, hopefully, if he stays like this long enough I’ll be able to get the image of him crawling through my tv out of my mind. 

“I - you’re worried about me, love? I - I knew that you’re my soulmate, oh my dear. You're so beyond perfect.”

“We should go get you some bandages Link. I know you’re not quite used to everything yet so I wouldn’t want you to get an infection immediately.”

Yeah, I’m not going to let this chance slip. He’s so much nicer in person, why should I throw this away? He’s perfect and now?

He’s mine.

[hughesyodaddy43]

you're gonna be okay ⎸ J.H

Jack Hughes x Reader synopsis : when Jack loses a big game, he comes over to seek support from his favourite person. word count: 1.5k warnings: sad jack, fluff, angst? Authors note: I have more fanfics coming soon, i have a range of them pre -planned with covers and titles and I read everyones request so if i don't get to yours then it's because i already have a story planned for that player or request. I hope you like this one :)

I slumped down on my bed, easily immersing myself in the world of fiction, every now and then munching on the bowl of popcorn I had sitting beside me. Jack was playing for team USA tonight so I was waiting patiently for him to message me that the game ended so we could call or hang out. Something about these big games excited me, not for the sport but for the post game interviews. 

It was nice to watch the interviews and read through the comments as if you couldn't just ask Jack the same questions yourself and actually get real and honest answers. 

You didn't know the final score yet so you went on youtube to see if a post game interview was up and you were met with the prettiest blue puppy dog eyes you've ever seen, but you knew jack and this was definitely not gonna be a happy interview. You click on the video and are met with a saddened Jack on the verge of tears, your heart aches for him as you listen to his answers; you were mad that they would interview a 17year old on the verge of tears and still ask the most idiotic questions. 

I only made it about 5 minutes into the video before I  got a message on my phone.

Jack 💘:  I’m outside. 

                                                 Okay, coming down now.         

I  walk down towards the front door and see a dishevelled jack peering back at me.

“Hi. Can I come in?” The young hockey player asks while twirling with his fingers. 

“Of course” I answer, slightly smiling at him as I move my body so he can slip past me. 

He walks through my doorway and up towards my room, I trail behind him closely up until he reaches my bed and slumps down on it , exhaustion evident on his face as he looks up at me standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly, not wanting to make him feel worse, though judging by the way his lip quivered and his head shook, I'm not sure that was the right decision. 

“We lost” he says just above a whisper 

“Hm?” I walked closer to him and sat beside him, reaching over to hold his hand that he was fiddling with in his lap. “We lost the game, we lost everything” he states, audible this time.

“Oh. well it’s okay-” "NO ITS NOT OKAY” Jack yells, standing up and turning to face me, running his hands through his freshly washed hair. “It's not okay, I let my team down, I let my parents down, I've let everyone down and I'm so tired” he rants on, quieting down towards the end. 

“Hey, hey . It is okay, alright? Just because you've lost this game, doesn't mean you've lost everything"

"yes it does, you have no idea what it's like to lose something like this. You don't have to worry about making sure you end up drafted. You'll never know.” ' Jack replies quickly, raising his voice once  again 

“you havent lost everything,i know it feels like it and i know you’re upset. But please don’t start yelling at me when I'm just trying to help you.'' He looks at me after I say this, tears filling up his eyes.

 “You’re right, im sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm just so angry at myself, I could've played better , we could've won but I let everyone down." I stand up and walk in front of him 

“Hockey is a team sport, Jack. One loss isn't your fault, besides all hockey players lose big games, even the best of the best.” Jack doesn't reply, instead he just nods his head and wipes a falling tear from his cheek.

“You’re an amazing player Jack, anyone can see that. You played well, and so did everyone else. Losses happen, it wouldn't be competitive if nobody lost.” He nods again, looking down at the ground. 

I sigh before continuing “why don't we just lay down and watch a movie?hm?” i ask 

The boy sniffles before nodding, replying with a light yeah as he makes his way back over to my bed. He sits against the headboard and watches me as I sit down and open my laptop. Stupidly i forgot to close the youtube tab i had opened from his interview and there it was, my boys said face displayed on my computer. I look over at Jack, he stares at the screen then back at me. 

“Sorry, i usually watch your post game interviews” i apologise.``its okay, i think its cute you watch my interviews” he smiles lightly at me, his beautiful smile that i didnt think i'd see tonight was there on display “what can i say? You're just too hard to resist” I joke, gaining a light chuckle from the boy  before fixing my eyes back to the screen so we can pick something to watch.

X

X

“Do you really think everything will be okay?” Jack asks in a mumble. “Mhm, you're gonna be okay” Jack leans up to face me “i'm gonna be okay” he repeats “you’re gonna be okay” i reply before he leans in and presses his soft lips on mine, we pull away and jack returns to his previous position, snuggling his face into my neck. “Goodnight, Jack. Love you” i say softly “mm night, love you too y/nn” jack replies before swiftly drifting off to a much needed sleep.

I wrap my arms around Jack in a warm embrace, sinking down into the pillows and pulling the blanket up higher. Light snores are audible from the boy as he leans into my touch, even when he's sleeping, he still manages to tighten his arms around me, lightly rubbing circles on my skin from where my shirt rolled up. I play with his hair while  allowing my eyes to grow heavy and fall into a peaceful slumber. Comfortable with the outcome of this otherwise devastating night

[msfantasy-anime]

Something Stupid

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: Izuku and Y/n finally make it official

Final Part

A/n: this was my first series started on this blog and it was never finished </3 anyway a rushed ending for the sake of closure.

Well there was no denying it.

You were head over heels for that bloody broccoli coloured hero.

God, how did you let this happen? How does one not notice when they���re falling in love?!

All questions that swim laps around your spinning mind as you try to make sense at the sudden shift in your heart.

Izuku Midorya, Japans number one hero, Deku, was the man who stole your heart. More so, he ardently admitted his love for you, and what did you do in return? Run away like the bloody coward you were.

This was just meant to be fun.

Feeling far too fragile in that moment to having your feelings returned. The prospect at a happily ever after in arms reach, it’s too frightening to give in. Besides your rational thoughts, continue to tear away at your optimistic thoughts.

Your a villain, plain and simple. He cannot be with someone who engages in illegal activity, it’ll ruin him.

His fan base will not tolerate someone who isn’t Uravity, he’ll loose his supporters.

It’ll ruin his career.

You’ll distract him from his duties as a hero, you might ruin his growth.

Your thoughts continue to spin erratically, abruptly stopping at the feeling of Izuku’s hand.

“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry for putting you in that awkward position. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.” Izuku said his hand caressing your own.

You quickly pull your palm away, feeling your nerves complain at the loss of comfort. Izuku only looked down at your hand glumly, sadden at your retreat.

“I cannot be with you Deku, it’ll ruin you. I cannot do that to you.” A small sad smile plays at his lips.

“I’m grateful that you are concerned about me, but seriously, you really don’t need to be so worried about my marketing, there are ways around it.” You begin to shake your head.

“No, Izuku, you are just confused. You’re in lust, not love.” You explain. To which Izuku looked firmly into your eyes.

“I know the difference, and I am in love with you Y/n.” Your cheeks burn at the declaration. Your mind reels away, coming up with a ‘real’ explanation. There is no way he can ‘love’ you, he barely knows you. “There are many things to love about you, and many more things to learn about you, but, the thing I love most about you is your unyielding compassion for others.” It was as if his words blew your dark world away. “Your whole career is centred around returning stolen mementos to those who cannot retrieve their rightful property. Your empathy for my friends- just you care so much about others. Even now, your telling me you don’t want to be with me because your concerned about how it would effect my career. But at no point have you admitted that you don’t love me.”

You bite down on your quivering lip.

“I-I can’t.” You whisper painfully. But Izuku’s face remains stern.

“Tell me why you can’t and I’ll leave you alone. Do you not like me?” You shake your head.

“… n-no…” The corner of his mouth tugs.

“Do you not want to be with me?” He asks, making your heart clench.

“No! I-I do but-“

“But what?!” He asks firmly, you continue to squirm under the uncomfortable confrontation of having to openly admit your true feelings.

“I’m just not good enough for you.” You finally admit, half expecting Izuku to accept your answer and agree. But instead he continues to press on.

“Why?” Your thoughts come to a stuttering halt.

“I… don’t know.” But Izuku stares at you unsatisfied in your response, so you continue. “I’m just … scared.” You whisper, making Izuku hunch into the table and grabbing your hand tightly.

“I’m scared too.” He whispers making your heart thud. “I’m scared I won’t get a chance to love you the way you should be- that you’ll reject me and I’ll go home alone. I’m scared that even if I put myself out there and we get together. You’ll just stop liking me one day and it’ll all end.” But you begin shaking your head.

In what world would you just stop loving Izuku?

“Fuck it. You’re right. I-I do want to be with you but can we take it slow? Figure out out footing first before we tell our friends?”

“Deal.” Izuku agrees, leaning over and planting a lip lock kiss.

[asdfghjklmals]

WHEREVER YOU ARE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. WORD COUNT: 3.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, established couple. adoptedkiddo! tsumiki.

SYNOPSIS: tsumiki wants to study abroad for high school, but satoru gojo is against it. will satoru let tsumiki go? AUTHOR'S NOTE: ***manga spoilers*** because of what happened to tsumiki in the manga, i decided to write a more wholesome version of what i would think tsumiki would've wanted to do. she is going to make small appearances and still have her name mentioned in my future fics, but this is dedicated to her. and because i think satoru loved having her as his child 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

you sat down on the couch, “satoru, we need to talk.”

“i swear, babe, it wasn’t megumi’s fault.” he stared at you innocently with his hands raised.

“megumi?” you looked at him, brows furrowed and confused, “no, babe, we need to talk about tsumiki.”

satoru sighed in relief, glad he didn’t get himself in trouble. he didn’t want you to find out about megumi getting sent to the principal’s office for fighting at school today. that was another lecture for another day.

“what’s going on with my favorite child?” satoru joked, putting his arm around your shoulder.

you explained the situation to satoru, “now that tsumiki is graduating middle school, we had a grown adult talk about her future plans. she told me she wants to study abroad for high school. she wants to learn english so she can teach kids here in japan after she graduates.”

“absolutely not. she’s staying here.” satoru said without even thinking. no reasoning to support his decision.

“but babe, i think it’s a good idea. she’s 15 and starting high school next year. there are good study abroad programs out there. and it's great to live in country of the language you want to the learn.” you said, trying to justify tsumiki’s decision to satoru.

“no, (y/n).” he said sternly. since when did he ever directly call you by your first name instead of a petname? and since when did he want to play patriarch? you were usually the shot-caller in this household.

it was time for the back up plan if all else failed. kisses. you grabbed satoru’s hand and peppered it with your soft lips. “please? for me and tsumiki?”

he looked at you and took his hand away. you stared back at him in disbelief, “satoru gojo, what is your problem today?” even the government name didn’t make him flinch like it usually did.

he never acted like this, even when he disagreed with you, he was usually calm and rational. he would have data and reasons to back up his decisions, but not today.

“i just don’t think a 15 year old girl needs to go study abroad in another country without her guardians.” he said bitterly, “and that’s final.”

he removed his hand from your thigh and got up from the couch, leaving you alone in the living room as he made his way to the patio to join catoru in the sun. your jaw dropped. what was wrong with him today?

later that night: tsumiki's room

“(y/n), did you ask gojo-sensei if i can study abroad?” tsumiki asked curiously as you towel dried her long brown hair for her. she had spent the last week convincing you about letting her attend a private academy in california, and you were totally on board with it until satoru shot you down earlier today.

“i did… he wasn’t too happy to hear what i had to say though.” you frowned at her. she looked at you with sad eyes.

“what did he say?”

“he thinks that you’re too young to study abroad and that you should stay here in japan with us.”

“i’m not a baby, (y/n).” tsumiki said, “why can’t gojo-sensei see that i can take care of myself?”

you thought out loud, “maybe because you’re his little girl... his partner in crime. he doesn’t want to lose that. you know what a softie he is.”

“yeah, but it’s not like i'll be gone forever! i can come home for the semester breaks and i’ll always have my cell phone with me!”

“i know, sweetheart. coming from how i grew up, i think this would be a great experience for you.” you commented as you thought about how you wanted to attend jujutsu high instead of being homeschooled when you were tsumiki’s age. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

tsumiki sighed in defeat, “can’t you give him a kiss or something? he never says no to you.”

“believe me, i tried.” you chuckled, “he pushed me away and said no.” you and tsumiki both knew satoru gojo's weaknesses.

“what?!” tsumiki gasped, “that man is so obsessed with you and he did what?!”

“i know, that’s the last time he’ll be getting any kisses from me.” you stated, sitting down on her bed.

“well, that’s just mean.” satoru interrupted your girls only conversation. his tall frame leaning against tsumiki's bedroom door, arms folded.

tsumiki smiled, “oh, hi gojo-sensei!”

“hi tsumiki.” satoru greeted her, sitting down on her bed next to you. tsumiki sat on the floor. “(y/n) says you have something you wanted to talk to me about.”

"oh... yes!" tsumiki nervously laughed, scratching the back of her head. "well, since i'm graduating middle school, i wanted to ask you and (y/n) if i can attend this boarding school in california. it's called e.f. academy."

"okay, if you're going to go this far away, you're going to have to convince me. so tell me more." satoru encouraged her.

"well..." tsumiki started to word vomit, "it's a private high school academy with small classes. they have a lot of extra curricular activities and travel opportunities. they'll prepare me for college. they have advisors that i can talk to if we need anything..."

"tsumiki, can't you do all of this here? why do you have to go so far away?" satoru asked. this was his way of being 'reasonable'. he was starting to ask questions so he could make the best decision.

tsumiki was smart and calculated, just as you and satoru raised her to be. she started her rebuttal, "you and (y/n) have always taught me and megumi that we are not going to grow if we don't step out of our comfort zone. you even told megumi to be greedier, so this is me being greedy."

satoru nodded his head, "okay. give me a week to think about it. don't bother (y/n) and don't ask her to give me kisses because that's unfair."

you smiled as you watched satoru and tsumiki talk. they were really a father-daughter duo, partners in crime, two peas in a pod. you missed the days where your 6 year old adopted daughter used to keep your 18 year old boyfriend in check.

"really? you'll really think about it?" tsumiki asked satoru with a hopeful gleam in her eye.

"yes. i promise." he answered.

tsumiki stuck out her pinky as satoru laughed. he intertwined his pinky with hers, both of them kissing their pinkies to seal the deal. (read 'pinky promises' here)

one week later: satoru's office

satoru knew that he only had one week to make a decision that would change his life and ultimately, tsumiki's life. megumi and you were all for tsumiki studying abroad, while he was the only one against it.

"she's the only one that doesn't have cursed energy. she can't see curses and she can't attend jujutsu high with us." megumi's comment ran through satoru's mind. it was true, being the only one who couldn't see curses or practice jujutsu in the family could feel alien. but tsumiki never expressed that she felt alone.

satoru sighed while he sat in his expensive office chair. he knew that he was going to have to give tsumiki an answer today. he still wanted to say no, but his heart knew the right decision was to say yes and let her be free to be her own person.

he heard a knock on his office door. the four signature knocks signaling it was you (or him). ten years later, that has never changed.

"gojo-sensei?" your saccharine voice called out for him as you opened his door.

he greeted you with a bright flashy smile, "i love it when you call me that."

you rolled your emerald green eyes at him as you made your way towards his desk, sitting against it. "did you make a decision yet?"

"i'm thinking about it." he mused.

"you know our baby girl is waiting for an answer. she's at cheer practice right now, so she should be home at 6 today." you commented.

"let me take one last walk and i promise i'll be home on time for dinner." satoru huffed. you leaned down to kiss him before heading back to your office. he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

"wait, can i get another kiss?" he requested with a shit-eating grin.

your radiant laugh filled his office. he peeked one of his shiny blue eyes out of his blindfold. you turned back around to grab his chin with your hand.

"see you at home." you whispered, kissing him again fervently.

***************************************

satoru decided to take the long way home instead of teleporting. he wanted the last couple hours to himself to think.

why was he so against tsumiki studying abroad? he thought about the conversation he had with you last night.

"i think you have abandonment issues, satoru. that's why you won't let tsumiki leave japan." you realized as he pulled you closer to him in bed, your gentle hand resting against his bare chest.

"hmmm. you think so?" he mumbled, pulling your chin up for a sweet peck on the lips.

"i know so."

abandonment. the first person who came to satoru's mind was suguru geto, his bestfriend. the original partner in crime. a person who he loved and cared about til' this day.

"losing suguru really changed you, babe. and that's okay. you've become a better man because of it." you said softly.

"i guess you're right." satoru acknowledged. he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. he felt your delicate breathing against his skin as he fell asleep.

it was true, what you had said. satoru didn't want to be left behind again. even though he knew that tsumiki wasn't actually leaving him behind, he didn't like the fact that another person he loved and cared about wasn't going to always be present in his life.

he knew that if he kept her here, she would just grow up pushing him away or maybe even resenting him. and he couldn't have that. he knew what he had to do. he was going to let tsumiki go.

later that night: family dinner

"so... did you make a decision, gojo-sensei?" tsumiki interjected at dinner.

yours and megumi's green eyes met at the dinner table. the ball was in satoru's court now.

"i did, sweetheart." satoru said calmly. you and megumi extremely curious, tsumiki's heart beating quickly.

"you can go."

"really?!" tsumiki jumped out of her chair.

"really." satoru confirmed.

tsumiki cheered and squealed in delight. running to hug satoru. she ran to her room and grabbed her acceptance letter to show the white haired sorcerer.

"you already have an acceptance letter?" megumi questioned his sister.

"they have a 99% acceptance rate, so it doesn't matter. but i wanted to show gojo-sensei anyways." she beamed.

"i guess they just let anyone into that school." megumi muttered. you kicked him under the table as he shot a glare black at you.

"when is the first day?" satoru asked you and tsumiki.

you answered, "classes start in two weeks. i already bought our plane tickets and made sure our passports were good to go, tsumiki has her student visa ready as well."

"you already bought our plane tickets?" satoru questioned, chuckling, "and what were you going to do if i said no?"

"i knew you wouldn't have said no, babe. you can't say no to me or tsumiki to save your life." you grinned.

"she's right about that." megumi added. tsumiki nodding in agreement. she did get catoru because satoru said yes. (read 'the purrr-fect approach' here)

"i can definitely say no to (y/n)." satoru defended himself as his family ganged up on him.

you picked up your empty plate, and walked to satoru side, "can i get a kiss before i start the dishes?"

"sure, babe." he replied with no hesitation as he gave you a quick peck, unaware of your tricky mind games.

"see? you can't say no." you laughed as you picked up the rest of the empty dinner plates and utensils.

"what did i say about using kisses as a weapon?!" satoru complained. "that's so unfair!"

the dining room was filled with laughter from you, megumi, tsumiki, and satoru.

two weeks later: tsumiki fushiguro takes california

satoru was glued to tsumiki by the hip for the past two weeks. they went shopping together for all her academic needs, for new clothes, a laptop, and a new matching backpack and suitcase. they went to get their hair cut together, and even got their nails done together (satoru loved getting pedicures, you thought it was because of the foot massages). he wanted to spend as much time with tsumiki as possible before parting ways.

orientation for tsumiki's school was a two day event. during the first day, the families would be given a tour of the school and then everyone would attend a social hour to get to know the faculty and other students. the second day, the families would help their student move into their dorms and say their goodbyes until semester break in the late fall, early winter.

during the first day of orientation, tsumiki had already started to make friends. she was just like you. beautiful, nice, caring, friendly. people wanted to be around her and wanted to be her friend. you and satoru watched from the sidelines of the gymnasium as tsumiki mingled with her new classmates.

"are you still worried about her? she's already getting used to things here." you tried to comfort satoru as you watched your future high schooler.

"i was hoping she'd beg us to take her home." satoru frowned. you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand.

"mr. and mrs. gojo," a student aide approached the both of you, "can you sign these papers for tsumiki? these are the final documents for admissions."

"sure thing." satoru replied, grabbing the clipboard and pen from the student aide. you waited until they walked away to turn to satoru.

"mr. and mrs. gojo. what did you think about that?" you sneered.

satoru chuckled as he signed the document, "sounds like music to my ears."

"give me a 10 carat diamond ring first, babe." you grinned as satoru handed you the clipboard to sign the document too.

satoru gojo would give you the world if you asked for it.

"(y/n)! gojo-sensei!" tsumiki shouted from across the gymnasium to catch your attention. she waved while pointing at the two of you. she was showing her new friends who her cool and awesome parents were. you and satoru waved back at her, giving her both of your world-class smiles.

***************************************

satoru used blue to hold up all of tsumiki's luggage as the three of you made your way to the dorm room that tsumiki would be staying in. you and satoru paid extra to make sure that she would get her own room. you sat down on the empty bed, tsumiki joining you.

"what do you think, sweetheart?"

"with a little extra decorating, i can make it look like my room at home." she said with a bright smile.

you and satoru helped put on the bed spread, duvet cover, and pillow cases while tsumiki unpacked her clothes and placed them into her small dresser.

you could feel satoru tensing up, his cursed energy spiking every now and then. he was dreading saying goodbye to tsumiki. whenever he would look at you, you would give him a soft smile and rub his back in reassurance.

"gojo-sensei, (y/n), look what megumi gave me for my dorm room." tsumiki's brown eyes twinkled as she showed you a pink sparkly picture frame.

the picture frame contents were of the four of you. it was a recent picture from tsumiki's 15th birthday. you had your arms around megumi while satoru had his arms around tsumiki. it was a rare occasion that megumi was smiling in a picture. tsumiki's signature bright smile lit up the picture. you could feel the love radiating from the frame.

"megumi says that this picture will be a reminder of home and that you all love me."

"he's right." you patted her head, brushing her brown hair. "are you sure you want to do this? it's not too late to change your mind. we can go back home if you want."

"no, i'm sure!" tsumiki said confidently.

you laughed, "you're breaking satoru's heart, baby girl." you hugged satoru, his arms were folded as he quietly laughed, shaking his head.

***************************************

you and satoru spent your last couple of hours with tsumiki reminiscing about her younger days and what kind of child she was growing up.

"remember the day that satoru lost you and megumi at kanda matsuri? i was going to have a heart attack."

satoru shot you a glare, "in my defense, there are thousands of people at that festival. it's one of japan's big three festivals! they were like four feet tall at the time! i told you we needed to get them those child leashes."

"you were such a responsible girl, going to the lost and found." you ignored satoru and laughed, remembering that tsumiki went to the lost and found to have the festival employee announce 'satoru gojo, can you please come to the lost and found to pick up your children'.

"remember the one day gojo-sensei forgot your anniversary?" tsumiki peered at satoru, giggling.

"oh god... don't bring that up." satoru hid his face in his hands.

"what was that? our third year of dating?" you asked satoru, "and your cute 9 year old partner in crime saved you that day. she went to the flower shop down the street and bought lilies with your credit card."

"then how did you find out that i forgot if she saved me?" satoru interrupted you.

"because you always get me roses, even though my favorite flowers are lilies. not only is tsumiki responsible, she's extremely thoughtful." (read 'lilies and roses' here)

"remember when tsumiki brought me a homemade lunch for teachers day?" satoru smiled at the fond memory. tsumiki was only 8 years old when satoru got an official teaching position at jujutsu high.

"it was her idea too," you reminded satoru, "she asked me to help her bring your lunch to the school that day. our baby girl is so caring. what did we do to deserve such an amazing daughter?" you gushed at your 15 year old, hugging her tightly. tsumiki just smiled and laughed like she always did.

"i think i'm the lucky one too! what did me and megumi do to deserve such loving adoptive parents?!" she remarked.

"all you two had to do was look cute. that's why i picked you two up off the streets." satoru joked. (read 'learn to love' here)

you heard a knock on tsumiki's dorm door, tsumiki opening it. the resident assistant announced, "curfew is starting soon. parents are going to be saying goodbye to their students in the courtyard."

you felt satoru's cursed energy spike again. he wasn't ready for this moment, and honestly, neither were you. you weren't sure what was going to break your heart the most: letting tsumiki go or watching satoru leave a piece of his (still) healing heart behind.

you and satoru quietly followed behind tsumiki as she confidently led the way to the courtyard. it was like she belonged here at the academy the way she navigated through the halls. the courtyard was dimly lit, the california skyline in the background, clouds kissing the top of the city buildings.

you watched as satoru sneakily wiped his tears away from his cerulean blue eyes. he crouched down, softly smiling at tsumiki.

“you gonna be okay without your partner in crime?” he asked her.

as strong as tsumiki was, her brave face started to falter. her warm brown eyes brimmed with tears as she ran into satoru’s arms for one last hug before you and satoru had to leave the campus.

tsumiki babbled through her tears, “thanks for letting me come to school here… i promise i’ll study really hard... i love you and (y/n) so much. you two are the best mom and dad ever.”

satoru scoffed through his tears and continued to hold her. you put a reassuring hand on satoru’s shoulder, joining them for a group hug. tsumiki looked up at the both of you with flushed cheeks.

you kissed the top of her precious head, an action that she never grew out of (and you hoped she never would). you smiled back at her with tears in your eyes, “wherever you are, baby girl, satoru and i will always be one call away. we love you and we’re so proud of you, tsumiki.”

"no boyfriends, please." satoru added with a chuckle. he didn't think he could handle another heart attack.

EXTRA:

"did you see how much tuition costs at tsumiki's boarding school?" you asked satoru as he sat down in his first class airline seat.

"no, i didn't even bother check the brochure they handed us at orientation." satoru stretched his long legs, "how much could a high school tuition cost? one or two thousand a year?"

you just laughed at his ridiculous comment. you were amused at how naive he was.

"what? why are you laughing?"

"try seventy, babe." you stared at him. satoru looked like he was going to have a brain aneurysm.

"seventy what? seventy dollars or seventy thousand?"

you annunciated each word clearly so he could understand you. "seventy. thousand. dollars. a. year."

satoru fake-clutched his chest, "we have to go back and withdraw her, immediately."

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[borathae]

Proud of You

"Jungkook thinks that whatever mistake he makes defines his entire character and makes him unlovable. Yoongi shows him that mistakes don't mean the end of the world and that they most definitely don't define his worth."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: Jungkook accidentally breaks something and is sad about it, Yoongi shows him how to fix it, that's his little one everyone, he's so fond of him, Googie is so grateful for him in return

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: Requested by anonie literally two years ago 🥴 I found it buried deep under all the things on my wips list jsjs I can't even find the ask to it anymore but it was basically them wanting a domestic fluff drabble of yoonkook fixing something together to make Kookie see that his hands can do other things than break. I finally wrote it because i miss them and i'm big sad about it 🖤

The knock on his door is faint; shy in a way. Perhaps even hesitant. 

“Come in”, Yoongi allows whoever is nervous to see him entrance. 

He was playing the electric guitar before that, sitting on the floor against his sofa and only candlelight accompanying him. The guitar sits beside him for now.

Jungkook enters the room, having his head lowered and hands folded in front of his crotch. Yoongi waits for him to speak.

“Hyung, I did something bad”, Jungkook gets out quietly.

“Are you okay? What did you do?” Yoongi asks him in a soft voice.

“I’m sorry but I broke the, the door in the kitchen.”

“The door?”

Jungkook nods his head.

“The actual door?”

“No, a cupboard.”

“Mhm. How did that happen?”

“I, I was uhm, I opened it. I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“That’s okay, kiddo. Accidents happen. Did you hurt yourself?” Yoongi speaks gently.

Jungkook shakes his head, sniffling.

“That’s good to hear.” Yoongi stands up. “Come on, let’s see what we can do to fix it, yeah?”

He intertwines hands with Jungkook, leading him to the kitchen. Jungkook follows him, barely daring to look at him in fear of seeing his anger. There is no anger on Yoongi’s features, Jungkook merely has the habit of beating himself up for every little mistake he makes. In his eyes, mistakes are awful when he makes them. They are the reason for anger and shame. Yoongi doesn’t share this sentiment, caressing his knuckles soothingly as he walks with him.

“Are you angry at me now?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“Of course not. You didn’t mean to break it.”

“I’m really sorry, hyung.”

“You’re okay, kiddo. Hyung’s not angry.”

They have reached the kitchen. The door Jungkook broke is lying on the floor. It is missing from one of the lower cupboards. 

“Oh this one. Little bugger, I meant to tighten it for ages but was too lazy to do so. It was about to fall off.”

“I swear I only opened it and it already fell.”

“I’m sure you did. Don’t worry, bun. The hinges were old. It would have broken sooner or later.” Yoongi says and squats down to inspect the door. “Let’s see.”

Jungkook kneels next to him, sitting down on his folded feet. He squeezes his hands between his thighs, rocking back and forth in self-soothing.

“Can you fix it?” he asks, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Of course. We’ll see if I have a set of hinges in my workshop. Come on, you’re helping”, Yoongi says, standing back up.

Jungkook scrambles back to his feet to follow Yoongi, “okay, hyung.”

Yoongi glances at Jungkook halfway to the workshop. Jungkook’s features are twisted in guilt and self-anger. Yoongi closes the distance and places his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck sweetly. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?”

Jungkook glances at him, hand coming up to rub his own cheek. Almost as if he wanted to wipe tears away.

“I feel so angry at myself.”

“I know you do, but don’t. Stuff breaks around the house, it’s prone to happen. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I could have opened it softer or, or been more careful.”

“Maybe, but you’ll never know if the outcome would have been different. You gotta focus on the now, kiddo, and in the now, nothing terrible happened. We’ll get new hinges and fix the door, okay?”

Jungkook hesitates with accepting the words. So Yoongi gives him a gentle shake, following it up with a pat to his butt. 

“Okay, kiddo?” 

“Yeah, okay”, Jungkook murmurs and smiles shyly. 

“That’s my boy”, Yoongi praises with a fond sparkle in his eyes, making Jungkook’s smile grow.

For the rest of the way, Jungkook walks next to Yoongi with lightness in his steps and his head held high. 

Yoongi’s workshop is in one of the many outhouses of the estate. The two men have to leave through the main door and then take the gravel path west, the opposite direction of where the horse stables are located. The outhouse is a sandstone cottage with one floor and a small herb garden and an outdoor smithy in the front. A few of the many workers are busy in front of it, greeting Yoongi and Jungkook with a bow of their heads as they pass them. 

Yoongi keeps his workshop very neat and organised. His tools are stored in cupboards and shelves on the walls. There is also a metal sink and many worktops to get crafty on. He kept one corner tidy, filling it with a two-seater and a table for refreshments. In winter when the nights are long, one can often find him cozied up in here with the fireplace lit and the radio playing music. He does all of his woodworking here and sees this house as a space to relax in. 

It doesn’t take him long to find what he is looking for, handing Jungkook the needed tools while he carries the new hinges. 

“It smells so good in here”, Jungkook comments between deep inhales of the woody air. 

“I worked on some wood carvings recently.”

“It smells really good. What are you working on?”

“Just some decorations for Emma’s town shop. She asked me to make cats.” Yoongi says, pointing at one of the worktops. 

Seven cat figures of different sizes are standing on it. Some are already completely finished, while others are still in the process of getting carved. 

“So cute, wow”, Jungkook gushes, petting each of them carefully. 

“Mhm, they’re pretty adorable yeah”, Yoongi agrees, watching his boy handle the figures so gently. He never doubted it, but Jungkook has such tender hands. Even if he thinks that they are only good for destroying. Yoongi knows better.

Jungkook turns to him, smiling shyly.

“They’re really pretty, hyungie.”

“Thanks”, Yoongi says and gestures Jungkook to leave. “I hope Emma will like them.” 

“I’m sure that she will. They’re really so, so pretty.”

“Thanks, kiddo”, Yoongi says, turning off the lights behind them now that they got everything that they needed. 

The two men wander back to the estate, greeting whoever passes them. They don’t chat a lot with each other, but that was alright for both. They are lovers of silence and sharing it together is a way to bond for them. 

The kitchen is how they left it and other than before, Jungkook doesn’t feel sickening guilt at the view of the broken cabinet. He feels hopeful. 

They lay out the tools, both sitting on the floor cross-legged. 

“Did you fix a cupboard before?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. 

“Yes, just not that type of cupboard.”

“Mhm, well it’s probably not that much different than other cupboards. You see this?”

Jungkook inspects where Yoongi points with squinted eyes. 

“The plastic is cracked.”

“Exactly. Old fucking shit finally gave up. That’s what modern hinges do. Back in my days, you would wither away before your hinges gave up.”

Jungkook laughs. 

“I’m serious. The older the earth gets, the younger companies make the life-expectancies of their shit. One day, I’ll rip out this modern dust catcher and build a good, sturdy kitchen. Just how I built it back then. With real wood and real metal hinges and good stone oven.”

Jungkook laughs harder, painting a fond smile onto Yoongi’s face. He scoffs and shakes his head. 

“I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No, I like it when you talk like this”, Jungkook assures him and rests his cheek on his shoulder, “when you do that, can I help?”

“Of course you can, kiddo. I’d be happy to do that with you”, Yoongi promises him with a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. “Now look here. I need your help.”

“What do you need?”

“Hold the door right there and I’ll tighten the screws.”

“Yes, okay.” Jungkook does as he is told, watching Yoongi work. “This was really quick.”

“Mhm. Just had to unscrew the old hinges and put on the new ones”, Yoongi murmurs, fixing the door back into its place. Three more tight twists with the screwdriver and the cupboard is officially as good as new. 

Jungkook gazes at it with sparkling eyes while Yoongi gathers all the tools. He stands up, placing the tools on the kitchen island so he could wash his hands. 

Jungkook stands up, looking at Yoongi. He has his back turned to him, wiping his hands on the towel.

He made his life worthwhile again, Jungkook thinks, he is the reason that Jungkook is able to actually exist again. And he has no fucking idea. He goes day by day thinking that his impact was minimal, when in reality he is the very reason for Jungkook’s perfect life. 

Jungkook closes the distance and takes Yoongi into his arms. The smaller man freezes up, dropping the towel in surprise. Jungkook has both arms around him, chest melted against his back and face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For coming into my life.”

Yoongi lowers his head, feeling flustered. His embarrassment about the highly emotional moment is instant. He begins wiggling to pretend that he doesn’t want to be hugged.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Let go of me, you brat.”

But Jungkook doesn’t let him go today. He hugs him tighter until Yoongi has to give up with an involuntary whimper which Jungkook squeezes out of him. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you.” he chants, kissing his neck and shoulder over and over again.

Yoongi hums, patting his lower arm. 

“You are so important. You are so loved. Oh so loved, hyungie. And, and you make my life possible.”

“The one who’s making it possible is you, kiddo. You’ve come so far.”

“I only came that far because of you.”

They share a moment of deep, comfortable silence. It is filled with emotions. Yoongi takes a deep breath and turns in Jungkook’s arms, cradling his face in both hands. 

Jungkook meets his fond eyes. His features are so soft and adoring. 

“Hyung is….” He shakes his head and smiles, “I’m proud of you, Jungkookie-ah.”

Jungkook exhales in emotion.

Yoongi pulls his head down and kisses his forehead.

Jungkook whimpers, closing his eyes. He never kissed him there before.

“I’m so proud of you, my little one. And…and you’re loved too.”

“Hyungie”, Jungkook breathes, falling around Yoongi’s neck to hug him tightly. 

Yoongi hugs him back, ruffling his hair. He is so very fond of his boy. Quite frankly, he would steal the stars for him if he asked him to. They may not have had many happy endings in their past, but at least in this life they will. Together. Because being together is the best which could have happened to them.

[thomatri]

Awkwardly dying hair

Synopsis- Osamu accidentally told Atsumu that you like him so instead of you guys confronting it you both awkwardly avoid each other until Suna mentions Atsumu dire need of a touch up on his hair which you usually do

Paring - Atsumu Miya x reader

Warning- cursing

———————————————————————-

“Alright im gonna start” I say and I see his head nod as he sits on his bathroom floor. I retouch his roots

We sit in awkward silence that’s usually filled with banter,laughing and even a little flirting here and there

I don’t even know how Suna convinced me to do this. Well I actually better start from the beginning and why I’m awkwardly dying Atsumu hair

Flashback Monday

——————-

I scroll on my phone as Atsumu and Osamu argue as usual. Suna basically watching whatever I’m watching

Atsumu says something that makes me and Suna perk up mid argument

“Well atleast I actually pull instead of having a crush who doesn’t like me back” Atsumu says and Osamu looked like he was actually hurt. I was about to step in when Osamu said something that made my heart clench

“Oh you asshole I don’t even fucking know why Y/n likes you. Your a dumbass who can’t even make good comebacks” Osamu says rolling his eyes

….

“Fuck” Osamu says glancing over to me nervously

If you were to ask me in the moment how I felt after he said that. In all honesty I’d tell you I’d want to cry and run away but instead I just sat there stunned

“You okay?” Suna asks and I nod not daring to look at Atsumu

For the rest of the week we ignored each other which was extremely hard because we had every class together plus a assignment we had to do in a class together. I was completely about to stop coming to there practices but Suna told me not to as if he read my mind mentioning he’s still my friend and he wants me to cheer him on

As for Osamu he apologized all week until I finally talked to him on Wednesday

“Im so fucking sorry Y/n I just wanted to hurt him I did not mean to hurt you in the process please forgive me” Osamu says and I sigh

“It’s fine still fucked up and im definitely still mad but I’ll get over it” I say sighing

“Well I mean look on the bright side you can use this opportunity to finally go out with Atsumu” he says with a crooked smile making me glare

“You of all people see how freaking awkward we are” I say feeling like I want to cry again

Im sad,embarrassed, a little happy Osamu saved me a confession, and most of all absolutely fucking terrified I just lost my best friend

“I’m gonna fix this” Osamu says and I nod not really believing him but still hopeful

After school I sit on the bleachers wait for Suna,Osamu,and Atsumu so we can walk home like usually but to my surprise Aran and Kita walk up to me

“You okay?” Kita says bluntly which makes me smile

“Yeah…no” I say about to lie but I remember it’s Kita and Aran the two most green flags ever

“What’s up?” Aran asks

“Uh in short Osamu accidentally told Atsumu I liked him mid argument” I say and Aran looks shocked like Kita looks at me with slight pitying look

“I’m sorry that happened” Kita says and I thank him

“It’s fine I’ll work it out” I say trying to convince them and myself

“Well please do it soon Atsumu been playing pretty bad and I’m pretty sure this is affecting his volleyball performance” Kita says bluntly

“KITA?!” Aran says and I laugh

“Kita Never stop being You” I say with a smile and he returns it, for some reason Kita bluntness made me feel a lot better and as if on cue Suna,Osamu,and Atsumu walk out a little after

As we’re walking to the train station Suna breaks the silence in Suna fashion

“Your hair looks like shit” Suna says to Atsumu

“Gee thanks” he says rolling his eyes

“No I’m serious you need a touch up” Suna says shrugging

I’m confused why right now of all times he’s bringing it up until I catch him smirking at me

Oh that little

———————————

And that’s what brings us to the current moment. He’s washing his hair as I scroll on my phone

“Y/n we need to talk” he says making me almost drop my phone

“Sure” I say and he sits on the floor with me

“Uh I think this past week has been awkward” he says avoiding eye contact

You know you know your ready to get rejected but when the time actually comes trust me your not

“Yeah” I say trying not to let it be known I’m about to burst into tears any second

“I’ve given it some thought, ok let me be honest Osamu gave me thoughts” he says and I snicker

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you, I was scared you hated me for not saying anything in the moment” he says looking down

“Atsumu” I say and he looks at me for the first time in what feels like forever

“Your an overthinking idiot and I thought my overthinking was bad” I say jokingly with a smirk

He beams

“We were all shocked at Osamu idiotic outburst “ I say shrugging

“Does this mean we can stop ignoring each other” he says with a hopeful look

“Yeah… but I can’t ignore my feelings. If you don’t like me back that’s fine and I’ll eventually move on but if there’s a slim chance you do li-“ I say but Atsumu suddenly brings me in a hug

I start to tear up

“I love you so much I’m sorry for everything” he says and I hug him back tightly

“I love you too Atsumu” I say laughing

———————————————————————

Bonus

———————————————

As Suna,Osamu,Atsumu and I eat our lunch Osamu and Atsumu are back to arguing

“Oh please Osamu you can’t say shit you have a fatass crush on Suna” Atsumu says

“YOU BITCH”

“IM JUST RETURNING THE ENERGY”

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober day 6: Vanilla with Yeosang

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: none?? it’s porn, yeah, but it’s so soft and sweet

Summary: You mess around with your best friend’s twin brother after learning he has a crush on you.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

The three of you had always been close, always doing everything together. Sometimes it felt like Yeosang was toeing the line between friendship and something more, though he never outright stated his feelings for you. Your best friend seemed to love the idea of you two together though and she always seemed to find excuses to push you two closer. Like right now.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I totally forgot I promised my friend I’d help him finish his project tonight.” She offered an apologetic smile that you knew all too well. “I’ll be back in like two hours, why don’t you stay and hang out with Yeosangie until I’m back?”

You nodded and watched as she practically sprinted for the door, leaving you alone in the living room with her twin. Before you could speak, he let out a sigh. “She does this almost every time nowadays, huh?” You nodded again and plopped down beside him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t come here to spend time with me, you came to see her, but she keeps ditching you in the hopes that I’ll finally-” He stopped himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Finally what?” You chanced a glance at him and he bit his lip, shaking his head again. “Finally admit you like me?” He froze and you chuckled softly. “I’m kidding. I know that’s not the case. But she wants it to be. She’s always going on about how we could really be sisters one day but I tell her every time that it’s not gonna happen.” You sounded almost sad as you spoke so you quickly offered a playful grin and continued. “You’re way out of my league.”

“I’m sorry, what? I’m out of your league?” He scoffed and shook his head once more, leaning away from you to get a better look. “Have you seen yourself? I think you got it twisted.” He claimed, a fond smile creeping onto his face.

You felt warm at the compliment but didn’t read further into it. This was how he was with you. You always pretended to flirt back and forth, except it wasn’t pretending on your part. So you laughed it off and rolled your eyes, settling into the comfortable silence as he continued to stare at you. “Can I help you?” You asked quietly, letting out a nervous giggle as you tried not to squirm under his unwavering gaze.

“What if you were right?” He bit his lip pensively as you looked back at him in confusion. He immediately wanted to take that back but it was too late so he forged ahead. “When you guessed she was waiting for me to confess to you. What if you were right?”

“I mean…am I?” He nodded slowly and lowered his gaze, cheeks tinged pink. “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“Why would I make a confession and blush if I just wanted to play-flirt with you? I wouldn’t put myself in a painfully awkward position just to pull a fast one on you.” He rolled his eyes and gave you a pointed look, making you offer up a sheepish smile in return. “Look, she isn’t helping anyone with a project. I asked her to leave this time so I could finally tell you. Usually her leaving would be her idea but this time it was mine. I’ve been sitting on this for years and she knew. She told me a few days ago that if I didn’t tell you how I felt then she’d either tell you herself or try to set you up with a friend of hers. So when I found out you’d be here today, I told her to find an excuse to leave.” You didn’t know what to say so you simply stared at him for what felt like ages before he coughed awkwardly and looked away. “It’s fine if that’s not-”

“It’s not that, I’m just…surprised.” You looked at your lap as everything began to click into place, unable to suppress a chuckle. “She’s been playing both of us, huh?” You glanced over at him just in time to see his head snap up. “She told me the same thing. About confessing, I mean. She’s known about my little crush for years. I always thought she was just teasing me, and she probably was, but I guess she was just excited since she knew it was mutual.”

“Oh…” It was all he could manage. Your confession hit him like a bus and his mind raced a million miles an hour but still, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Instead, he settled into his spot on the sofa with a tiny smile.

Given the usually-playful nature of your relationship, you turned to him with a grin and teased him a bit. “Wanna make out?” You saw a brief wave of surprise cross his face before a lazy grin was returned to you.

“Wanna head to my room?” It was your turn to show surprise but you quickly recovered.

“What’s in your room that we can’t do here?”

“Oh nothing, I just doubt she’d appreciate me nailing you on the couch.” Your cheeks flushed as he rendered you speechless. Usually, he backed off after a little teasing, but this time he was keeping it up and you weren’t entirely sure he was kidding. After a few beats of silence, he grew serious. “Hey, I’m just-”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“What?”

“Let’s go.” You stood from the couch, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you held out a hand. He took it hesitantly and allowed you to pull him to his feet. Once he was standing before you, his demeanor changed and he offered a flirty smile.

“You sure about this? Once I get you in my arms, I’m not letting you leave until I’ve got you trembling underneath me.” His voice dropped and he changed the way he was holding your hand, lacing his fingers between yours as he pulled you into him.

“I’ve only thought about it half a million times.” You said sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Let’s go.” He let out a soft laugh and nodded, leading you off to his room.

He closed the door as you sat on his bed, glancing around the room and smiling when you saw your old prom photo, among others. This room was full of memories, good and bad, so maybe that’s why you didn’t feel an ounce of anxiety when he approached you, standing between your legs. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as his fingers combed through your hair.

After a short while, you looked up at him and he bent down to kiss you. You craned upwards to meet him halfway, taking a quick breath before your lips met and letting your hands rest on his hips. His lips felt even better than you’d imagined and you found yourself feeling reluctant to let him break the kiss even for a moment. You let him though and he angled your head differently with a gentle grip on your chin.

He was taking things slow and being extremely gentle with you but you still felt yourself getting aroused. You nipped at his lip and his breath hitched as he carded his fingers through your hair. Pride swelled in your chest as you slipped your hands under his white tee, pressing your palms flat against his warm stomach. He pulled back to suck in a deep breath and tugged your shirt off before nudging your thigh with his. “Scoot back and lay down.”

You eagerly complied and he moved over you, smiling down at you before kissing your cheek. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted something as bad as I want you right now.” He whispered as he moved to kiss along your jaw and neck. You tipped your head back for him and he groaned softly. The way you offered yourself up to him made his head spin and his dick twitch. He grew a bit more restless as his lips danced along your skin, hands everywhere as you pulled his shirt up.

“Take it off.” You whispered, stifling a small moan when his large hands gently squeezed your breasts. You wanted to pout when he pulled away despite him doing so at your request. You allowed yourself to openly admire his physique as he tossed his shirt to the side with yours before kicking his jeans off. “Mine too.” You urged when he started to rejoin you on the bed.

He cursed under his breath before carefully pulling your jeans off and adding them to the pile of clothes. He moved back between your legs and allowed his hands to slide up the tops of your thighs. “You’re so fucking pretty, y/n…” He sighed, eyes roaming your body as he brought a hand between your legs and thumbed over your clothed clit.

“I was thinking the same about you.” You murmured, lifting your head to watch as he slipped his hand inside your panties. He circled your clit with two fingers and leaned in to catch your lips in a more demanding kiss than before. You laid your head back down and ghosted your small hands down his chest and torso, not stopping until you reached the elastic of his briefs.

You were tempted to tease him but didn’t, only pausing briefly before slipping your hand into his underwear. He fit nicely in your palm and you suddenly couldn’t wait to have him inside you. You gave a gentle tug, your grip firm, and were rewarded with one of the most stunning sounds you’d heard to date. You continued, so focused on drawing moans from him that you didn’t realize just how worked up you were until he slid his fingers inside your dripping pussy and you felt the knot in your belly tighten.

You felt him twitch in your hand when he heard your whiny moan and dug your thumb into the slit, almost as if retaliating. He damn near fell apart, groaning into your mouth as his hips bucked into your touch. He pulled back suddenly, swatting your hand away as he sat up.

“I can’t-” You propped up on your elbows, confused. Was he calling it off? “I just- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t-” You watched him hook his thumbs in his waistband and shove his briefs down and it clicked. He kicked his underwear the rest of the way off and immediately reached for yours. “You’re just- fuck, you’re perfect and I can’t help myself.” You lifted your hips to help him remove the offending material and let your legs fall open as soon as he got your panties off.

He gave you a look that made you clench around nothing as he settled on his knees between your legs. You wanted to fawn over how cute he was when he was desperate but you were just as needy and couldn’t be bothered to put effort into anything except getting him inside you. “Please…” you didn’t have to elaborate. He knew what you wanted, what you needed.

He ran his length through your folds once, twice, three times before finally allowing himself to sink into you. He was thick and the stretch already had your toes curling in delight before he even bottomed out. When he finally did, you pulled him down and crushed your lips to his, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

His hips moved slowly, almost torturously as his lips danced with yours for a few seconds. It wasn’t long before both of you gave up on proper kisses and resorted to drinking up each other’s moans instead. He was gentle with you despite his previous desperation, almost treating you like glass, and it made your stomach do a backflip. To him, you were as delicate and as beautiful as a flower, something to be handled with great care, and needed to be taken care of.

He showered you with soft kisses and murmured words of praise as he rolled his hips, repeatedly driving his cock into you. He was going mad, every thrust pushing him closer to the edge as he slipped a hand between you. You gasped against his lips when he isolated his middle finger and began to trace teasing circles there, your skin burning at the simple touch. You were going to cum.

You warned him of your impending orgasm and he held steady, giving you a nod. “Cum for me then, angel.” All your muscles contracted and released at the same time, back arching off the bed as you finally broke a sweat. You let out a loud, breathy moan as your orgasm washed over you, moaning again with every wave of pleasure.

Yeosang couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face, something inside him demanding he commit the image to memory. He forced his eyes to stay open even when his lids grew heavy as your warmth squeezed him, drawing forth his own orgasm. You pulled him in for a messy, desperate kiss as he filled you to the brim, nipping at his lips each time he moaned. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just too pretty.

As the pleasure subsided, he pulled out and rolled off you, much to your dismay - his weight on top of you felt nice. You immediately rolled onto your side and admired him for a moment before laying your head on his chest and draping an arm over his middle. “She’s gonna have a lot to say when she gets home in a while.” You whispered, giggling softly afterwards.

He let out a low chuckle and kissed your head. “She is. But I don’t mind.”

<-d-5 | d-7->

[buckyownsmylife]

about a girl - chris evans angst

The one where Chris breaks your heart

Warnings: angst

A/N: yes, I did finally write an angsty piece. No, this was not provoked by whatever rumors have been circling around this man's life, as it has been written since last year or something of the sorts. Just enjoy it and don't forget to let me know if you liked it by reblogging it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Everything was going well until it all went to shit. That’s the way my life seems to go.

The evening started like it always does: I walked into the party and Chris was already there, chatting up another girl who I had never seen before.

I didn’t feel attacked or intimidated. We’d danced this way before - countless times, in fact. It’d become some sort of routine now. The one who got there first would find some unsuspecting victim to chat up while we waited for the other to arrive.

I’d seen that movie a hundred times before. He never pounced, only played with the food until it got tired and old. That’s when he’d turn around and find me, and together we’d escape to a room or a bathroom - whatever was nearest.

Anywhere felt fine when I had his dick inside of me.

I’d been looking forward to this night for ages. Even primped myself for it. I was wearing my skimpiest dress, and nothing but a thong for Chris to undress tonight. So I didn’t even mind when he didn’t connect his eyes with mine once I walked through the door.

It was all a part of the game, I told myself. He liked the chase, and so did I.

“Why are you looking so gloom?” Brie scared me with the question. I had been staring at my beer for the last twenty minutes, waiting for Chris to make his move. I didn’t question it - he might have gotten lost in conversation. It happened quite often, depending on how much liquor was in his veins by the time I arrived. So I wasn’t even anxious, just a bit antsy. The underwear was riding up my butt and I just wanted to be without it.

I kept playing with the idea of interrupting their conversation to slip my panties into his pocket, but I decided against it. I wasn’t that adventurous. All of my energy in these gatherings was channeled into wild sex in “exotic” places. There wasn’t much of it left by now, as unfortunate as it was.

“I just…” I didn’t even know what to tell Brie. “I don’t know. Might be having a night off, that’s all.” She shouldn’t be worrying about me when the real reason why I was looking so out-of-place still hadn’t even glanced my way.

Another quick look and what I saw had my heart falling down to my stomach. Chris and the girl were full-on making out. He had her against the wall, one hand on her ass and the other buried in her hair, and I didn’t know what to say when my friend followed my line of sight and noticed what had gotten me so sad.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I didn’t need her words of compassion. It only had the mortification from this entire ordeal setting even heavier on my chest. 

I knew Chris didn’t owe me anything; we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, we weren’t together together. But every one of our friends knew about our customary hook ups. They were used to looking for us and finding us together, sometimes in compromising positions, so for him to just kiss someone else like it was no big deal felt beyond humiliating to me.

I wanted to go home, then and there. But I also didn’t want my friends to realize how hurt I was about it, so I knew I’d have to stay. I’d stay there and endure the humiliation, even when - through giggles and groans - the two of them found their way into a bedroom together, while I was left alone in the corner of a party I only went to in the hopes of spending time with Christopher.

It was hours before I saw him again, and even then, he didn’t see me - too focused on the conversation he was having with a common friend. I tried to be quiet as I approached them, I actually only wanted to grab myself another beer and they were the ones standing in the kitchen, but since he had his back to me, he didn’t notice my arrival.

I, however, couldn’t not overhear his words.

“So what? We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend anyway. Believe me, I would never date Y/N…” And that’s when he noticed me, standing there with a frown on my face.

I didn’t know how to react. I wasn’t going to lash out. I knew I wasn’t his girlfriend, but to be considered someone who could never earn the title hurt more than I cared to admit.

I didn’t know what to do. So I just left.

“Y/N…” He ran after me, for what reason I couldn’t understand. It’s not like he cared about me, not after what he did tonight.

“No, go away!” I yelled, my voice betraying just how hurt I was by his behavior. I hated it, hated that I couldn’t hide my feelings from the person who was the cause of them.

“Go and jerk off or something. Or find someone else who will fall to her knees and suck you whenever you want it. It obviously won’t be too hard.”

“You won’t at least hear me out?” That had me stopping in my tracks, ire making my heart beat so loud I could hear it ringing in my ears.

“Are you dumb?” I had to ask. “What could you possibly say to justify what happened in there?” That caught him by surprise. He fidgeted in his spot but didn’t open his mouth to say anything, and so I figured we were done for the night.

But just as I was about to leave… “We never talked about anything serious!” As if that was my problem with what had happened in there.

“And believe me, that’s on me.” I shook my head vehemently, crossing my arms in front of my body to show him that I meant business. “But it ends here and now. I can’t keep feeling this way every time we’re in a party together.”

Chris looked like he was struggling with something, but I wasn’t interested in letting him work through it at that time. “I know you could never love me.” Well, I knew that, now. “Not if you behave like that. Not if your only goal in life is to get more women into bed with you.”

He didn’t say anything and that’s when I decided it was time for me to leave. But I probably shouldn’t have mistaken his silence as a sign of his peace of mind, because the second that I turned my back to him, I heard his voice - barely over a whisper: “Maybe I just don’t know how to express my feelings.”

[haddonfieldwhore]

fragile - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x gn! reader

summary: after back to back losses, all matty needs is some words of reassurance from his favourite person

word count : 0.8k

warnings: maybe some angst but mostly fluff, sappy, hinted at nsfw themes for 2 seconds, not edited

you were almost asleep when you heard the door, as matthew finally got back to the hotel. you hadn’t been at the game, staying back with a headache this time, but you had watched it on tv; it wasn’t good. you listened as he kicked off his shoes with a sigh, and heard the soft thud of his clothes and bag landing on the floor. the bed dipped next to you and his arms wrapped around you, pulling your back against his chest, nuzzling his chin into the crook of your neck.

“hey, baby,” you murmured softly.

“hey,” he sighed, his eyes closed.

“i’m sorry,” you sighed; you hated how helpless you always felt watching the team when they were down.

“you watched it,” was all he said. you rolled over in matty’s arms, placing soft kisses up his throat. “is there anything i can do to cheer you up?” you hummed, gently creating a love bite under his jaw. sometimes the best way to improve his mood after a tough game was quite simply to let him take his… frustrations out on you, and you were never going to complain about the more dominant side of him it brought out; but tonight was different.

“i just want to hold you,” he replied, and you were a little surprised, but your heart fluttered just the same. you snuggled into his chest as his arms tightened around you.

“is something else bothering you?” you asked.

“besides the back to back 4-0 losses, you mean?” he laughed bitterly.

“matt-“

“what if it’s me?” he asked, and to say you were at a loss for words was an understatement. matthew tkachuk was someone with a great deal of confidence, often mistaken for arrogance by some; either way, self doubt wasn’t the usual thing for him. you pulled back slightly so you could look at him, his blue eyes sad and missing their usual playful gleam.

“matthew that’s ridiculous. where is this coming from?”

“have you seen my stats? i’m supposed to be this star player, and i can’t even score a goal.” you reached up to gently hold his face, the light stubble on his chin tickling the palm of your hand.

“so you’re off to a slower start than expected- it happens. and besides, you guys are a team; one person doesn’t win or lose, you guys do it together,” you said, admittedly not used to having to comfort him like this. “you guys have been doing great; two games isn’t the end of the season.”

“what if i’m holding the team back?”

“you’re not-“

“what if i am?” he insisted, his eyes that had until now avoided your gaze finally locked with yours. his eyes searched yours with a pleading hopefulness for any kind of sign that he was wrong; that it wasn’t all his fault.

“matty you broke your sternum six months ago; you’re being extremely hard on yourself. you are not some kind of dead weight, and i don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again,” you pleaded. “it’s amazing that you’re back to playing as well as you are so fast after what happened. i know you’re used to being one of the best - because you really are - but i think you just have to settle for being ‘pretty good’ until you’re back to the place you were at in the playoffs.”

“what if i never get back to that level again?”

“you will. if anything you’ll be better because you want it more.” you promised, and he was silent for a second, as if thinking over everything you’d said.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, shaking his head slightly as the first hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

“i ask myself that about you every day,” you smiled, pressing your lips to his. you hummed softly as his hands slid up your back to deepen the kiss, and you tangled your fingers gently in his soft curls, his hair still slightly damp from the post game shower.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips, and you smiled into the kiss.

“i love you too.”

you laid your head back down on matthew’s chest, and felt him press a kiss to the top of your head as you tangled your legs with his under the blankets. the familiar scent of his expensive cologne lingered on his skin as you kissed his collarbone in response, and whispered a quiet ‘goodnight’, already feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.

“goodnight angel,” matthew mumbled, feeling slightly better as he replayed everything you had said in his mind. he knew deep down that you were right; that he was expecting the world of himself, when at the end of the day, he was just a person. but to you, he was home, even in a city miles away from it.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned