#something something leaning your whole weight on someone who wants to take it. love and trust and physical touch
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First, I would like to say I love your writing! Especially your Trash Villain Chronicles. Thanks to your first one I've been on a Vil kick. I double-checked the rules before typing so hopeful I'm following them. Okay, here goes:
Vil with a partner who's a bit on the heavier side and insecure about it, especially compared to her model boyfriend. Vil finds out about it and quickly reassures her that she is perfect the way she is, and if she's still insecure, he'll help her with whatever she wants to do. Whether it's losing weight or changing her style, anything to make her feel good about herself. Just Vil helping his love feel as beautiful as he thinks she is
I personally see this with a female reader (Hence why I used she/her) but if you do decide you wanna take a crack at this and use a GN reader, then by all means. If you don't wanna do this request, then feel free to ignore it. Just wanted to try. I hope you have a nice day!
Just the Way You Are || Vil Schoenheit
Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.
first of all: thank you so much <3. and thank you for waiting! i made it gn to be more inclusive, and i hope this is what you wanted!
Vil has always found a certain allure in the way you carry yourself—something genuine and warm that shines in a way he rarely sees. But over time, he's noticed the small, telling moments of hesitation.
The way you shy away from reflective surfaces, your reluctance to stand too close to him in photos, the subtle way you pull at your clothes.
He understands insecurity well, but it pains him to see that you’re judging yourself so harshly, especially when he thinks you're so beautiful just as you are.
One day, while sharing lunch, he notices you pushing food around your plate rather than eating. He sets his fork down and gives you a look, his eyes gentle yet discerning. "Darling, are you really going to keep that on the edge of your plate?"
You give a half-hearted smile. "I…just don't want to overdo it," you say, hoping that sounds convincing.
Vil nods thoughtfully, already understanding. He reaches out, covering your hand with his. "If you're feeling uncomfortable about what you eat, would you let me help? Not because I think you need to change, but because I want you to feel at home in your own skin."
You agree, albeit a bit hesitantly, and he instantly takes charge in the way that only Vil can. Crowley’s meager budget often mean you have to settle for low-cost, processed foods, and Vil isn’t about to let that slide.
Over the next week, he starts bringing meals prepared just for you, full of fresh ingredients he’s carefully chosen and even sourced himself.
One afternoon, he surprises you with a gorgeous spread for lunch. It’s a rainbow of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins, arranged as beautifully as any of his fashion editorials.
"Proper food is like proper skincare," he explains as he plates your meal with a flourish. "Only the best for you."
You find yourself looking forward to meals more than you ever thought you would. He teaches you little tricks, too—how to pick satisfying ingredients on a budget, small ways to prepare them to bring out their natural flavors.
Every meal feels like an act of love, a reminder that someone thinks you're worth the care you didn’t always give yourself.
After a couple of weeks, you feel the difference—not just in your energy but in your confidence. Vil notices this too, smiling proudly every time you finish your meals, delighted with the way you’re nourishing yourself.
He never pushes; he’s simply there to support you every step of the way, showing you that your health and happiness matter to him more than anything.
One evening, Vil finds you sighing at your reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit. You’re wearing a simple outfit, but you can't help but feel that it doesn't quite fit the way you’d like, especially next to someone as effortlessly poised as Vil.
Sensing your discomfort, Vil walks up beside you and slips an arm around your shoulders.
“You’re beautiful as you are,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But if you don’t feel it, then let's change that. Why don’t we make a day of it and find you some outfits that help you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”
The next day, Vil takes you shopping, his eye for detail guiding every choice. He’s quick to dismiss outfits that don’t fit right, brushing off any hints of self-consciousness by focusing on each piece’s color, fabric, and shape as though they’re variables in an equation only he understands.
“Fit is everything,” he tells you, holding up a jacket. “It’s about finding clothes that celebrate who you are, not cover it up.”
His enthusiasm is contagious, and as you try on different outfits, you start to see yourself in a new light. Vil’s commentary—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—always steers you toward the right choices, outfits that make you feel vibrant and confident.
At one point, he finds a tailored coat with intricate details on the sleeves, something understated yet regal. “This,” he declares, draping it over your shoulders.
You glance at yourself, surprised at how the cut flatters you, and for the first time, you feel like your outside finally matches the confidence you’re building on the inside.
By the time you leave the store, you’re carrying a few new pieces that you actually feel excited to wear, and Vil’s heart swells every time he sees you trying them out.
His pride in you is palpable, his compliments genuine and warm. "It’s all about loving who you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it’s a privilege to see you start doing just that.”
One night, as the two of you sit together on the dorm balcony, Vil looks at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. "I hope you’re beginning to see how wonderful you are," he says softly, his hand holding yours. "Not because of anything you’ve done to change, but because you’re worth it. You always were."
You smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you as you squeeze his hand back. And as you lean against him, content, you finally start to believe that, maybe, Vil is right.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x you#vil
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FATHER, FORGIVE ME
ship: father charlie x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 4.1k a/n: ahhh….I just want to say I'm so thrilled with all the love and support for the mini Devotion series! It means the world to me to see you guys enjoying it as much as I do. And a huge thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I got drunk asf, and here's the rough draft I made while tipsy, lolol. Hope you all enjoy~ 😈✨..
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹`·.·★
You wouldn't say you were a bad person.
Selfish? Maybe. Impulsive? Absolutely. But "bad" seemed a bit of a stretch.
It's just that, when you saw something you wanted, you didn't hesitate to take it—and, honestly, you had no regrets. Not until now, at least.
Sitting here, surrounded by the smell of old hymn books and dusty incense, listening to some wrinkly old man in a white robe drone on about salvation.
The whole thing was your mother's doing. She had this recurring phase, like clockwork, where she'd get bitten by the "Bible bug."
For a few weeks every year, she was the most devoted Catholic you'd ever seen. She'd call, text, guilt-trip—anything to get her kids back on the straight and narrow, even if just for a Sunday morning.
For the last seven years, you'd managed to dodge it. Moved out at eighteen and never looked back, leaving the duty of church attendance to your three other siblings.
Usually, someone would take one for the team and tag along with Mom until her enthusiasm fizzled out again. But this time, it seemed your luck had run dry—your sister had finally roped you in, and here you were, seven-year streak shattered.
You sighed deeply, eyes half-lidded as they flicked across the stained glass windows—all those saints staring down at you in judgment.
You couldn't help but think of all the things you could be doing right now. Sleeping, for one. Your bed sounded like heaven compared to the hard pew beneath you.
Or brunch with your friends—mimosas and laughter, not these monotone chants and the faint smell of mothballs.
Hell, you could've called Kevin over and gotten dicked down instead of dealing with this—
Your thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming against an unexpected sight.
The old priest, the one whose croaky voice was practically white noise at this point, stepped away from the pulpit. In his place was someone else—someone younger, someone whose presence commanded attention.
A man, tall, dark hair neatly combed back, with a crisp black cassock that hugged his broad shoulders just right. He moved with a sense of ease, like he belonged up there.
And damn, was he handsome. Handsome enough to pull your focus completely, which was a feat in itself given the circumstances.
Your eyes tracked him as he approached the podium, his voice replacing the rasping chant of the old priest. It was smooth, warm, resonant. Nothing like the man you remembered from years ago.
He spoke about community, faith, redemption—but all you could think was how someone like him ended up in a place like this.
You found yourself leaning forward, just slightly, as if drawn in by some invisible force. Your irritation melted away, replaced by a strange curiosity.
Maybe… maybe this wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday after all.
The priest stood quietly at the altar, his figure framed by the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint scar traced its way down the right side of his forehead, a mark that spoke of some unknown hardship or past misadventure.
He was youthful but with the stillness of someone who’d seen enough to understand patience and humility.
With each breath, the man seemed grounded in his presence, shoulders relaxed but broad, the fabric of his robe resting comfortably against his chest.
His appearance was almost angelic, yet the subtle scar and the weight in his eyes hinted at something more complex beneath the surface—a man of God, perhaps, but one who had walked through fire to find his faith.
"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow in appreciation as you stared at the handsome man up there. You leaned over a bit to your mother, eyes never straying from his figure. "Ma, who's that? Is he new?" you whispered to your mother.
She looked up from her phone, Candy Crush flashing on her screen. You silenced the snort that wanted to come out. Looked like she might retire from church early this year, you thought to yourself, seeing her early signs of disengaging.
She glanced up at the front, giving a quick look before going back to her game. "That's Father Charlie Mayhew. He was brought in about two or three years ago, I think," she murmured absently, barely paying attention.
Father Charlie.
You watched as he spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, his eyes sweeping over the congregation with a genuine warmth. He wasn't like the old priest—this one seemed to genuinely care, as if each word held weight.
You wondered if that scar came from something dramatic, some story worth knowing. Your gaze lingered, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his lips moved with each word. Something about him felt... magnetic.
You found yourself sitting up straighter when the two of you made eye contact—he blinked, his words stumbling just slightly, a brief hitch in his otherwise smooth delivery. "I, uh... I apologize," he stuttered, looking off to the side, the tips of his ears turning pink.
You caught the way his eyes shifted nervously, almost as if he was trying to regain his footing. It was subtle, but you could see it—the way he tried to pull himself back together, to get through the rest of the sermon without any more disruptions.
He cleared his throat to continue, "As I was saying... uh, the importance of faith in our lives cannot be overstated. We must always strive to, um, to do what is right, even when it's difficult..." His voice trailed off slightly, but he managed to steady himself, his eyes avoiding yours as he focused on the rest of the congregation.
It made something stir in you, a mix of curiosity and amusement.
You bit down gently on your lower glossed lip, eyes trailing over his form, taking in every subtle detail. The way his hands gripped the edge of the podium, the faint flush creeping up his neck—it was all so telling.
He seemed innocent, reactive.
You smiled to yourself, letting your gaze linger as he continued, noting the way he seemed to avoid looking in your direction now, as if afraid that another glance might trip him up again.
Maybe you should pay a visit to Father Charlie—see if you could break that serene composure of his.
You could already imagine it—the way he might tense up under your touch, the way his voice might crack if you whispered something just a bit too forward.
The thought alone made your heart race, anticipation bubbling up inside you, like something in you just knew—he'd be fun to unravel.
You leaned back in your seat, a slow, satisfied smile playing on your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.
The sermon ended with a quiet murmur of 'Amen' from the congregation, followed by the gentle shuffle of people rising from the pews.
You glanced around, watching as people slowly made their way to the exits, some stopping to chat while others lingered near the back of the church.
The old priest was nowhere to be seen, but Father Charlie remained, standing at the front as he spoke softly to a small group of parishioners.
Your mother, of course, made a beeline for him. You heard her voice carrying over the hushed conversations, gushing about how moving today’s sermon was.
You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself, and slowly rose to your feet, making your way over with an almost lazy stride.
As you approached, you could see your mother perk up, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you. "Oh, there she is! Father Charlie, this is my youngest, ____." She gestured towards you, her hand lightly resting on your arm to pull you closer. "You've met my other children over the years."
You could see the change in Father Charlie almost instantly. His posture shifted, his back straightening just a little more, his eyes rounding as they landed on you. He seemed almost like an eager puppy, his gaze bright and attentive.
He quickly pulled his eyes away, turning back to your mother with a polite smile as he nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said, his voice a touch softer. Then he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a gentle smile. "It's nice to finally meet you. I don't think I've seen you here before... ?"
Your mother gave a sort of laughing scoff, waving him off as she caught his attention again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Father, the day she willingly comes to church without an incentive is the day the devil is welcomed back into Heaven's gates."
You kept your eyes on Father Charlie, a small smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head slightly. "Maybe I just hadn't found a good enough reason to come before," you said, your gaze locked on his, your voice light but carrying a hint of something more.
His eyes widened just a little, and you watched as a faint blush spread across his cheeks, his lips parting slightly as he blinked, clearly caught off guard.
Before he could say anything, your mother’s name was called from behind. It was one of her church friends, and in an instant, she was off, waving a quick goodbye and leaving you standing there in front of Father Charlie.
You didn't waste a second, taking a daring step forward, your eyes fixed on him. "So..." you said, letting your gaze roam over him before meeting his eyes again. "You seem awfully young to be running a church like this. I have to say, I'm impressed."
He looked bashful, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at you. "Oh, well, thank you. I just... I do my best," he said, his voice soft, the pink on his cheeks deepening.
You smiled, tilting your head just slightly. "Do you do one-on-one sessions, like other churches do?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.
He blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean confessionals?" He nodded quickly, his expression shifting back to something more serious. "Yes, I do. In fact, I was planning on doing confessionals later today, after the services. Not many people take me up on it, but I think it's important to always offer the option."
"Oh, really?" you said, letting your voice drop just a bit, your head tilting to the side as you watched him. You let a small smile curve your lips, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I came to see you and... confessed, would you, Father?"
He stuttered, his blush deepening as he quickly nodded. "N-No, of course not. You're more than welcome to come by, anytime," he said, his voice a bit shaky.
You smirked, giving him a nod. "Perfect," you said, your voice smooth, before turning on your heel and walking away, back towards where your mother was waiting.
You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, the weight of his eyes almost burning into your back. And you loved it.
This really was going to be fun.
The church grew quieter as the service officially ended, people slowly trickling out while you lingered, waiting for your moment.
Eventually, you made your way to the confessional booth, the small wooden space feeling cramped as you settled in. The air was close, the scent of polished wood and incense hanging heavy.
You could hear Father Charlie shuffling on the other side, the sound of the door closing behind him, the rustle of fabric as he got seated.
You took a breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you began. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." you said, your voice soft, but there was an edge to it that you couldn't quite hide.
There was a pause before you heard him clear his throat, his voice coming through the small screen that separated you. "The Lord is always ready to forgive. Please, tell me your sins, my child."
You sighed, leaning back slightly, your fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. "I fear I desire a man that is just out of my reach," you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It's wrong for me to want him... but I can't seem to help myself."
There was a moment of silence, and you could almost picture the look on his face—concerned, earnest, wanting to help. His voice was gentle as he responded. "Desire can be difficult to control, but it is not inherently sinful. It is what we choose to do with that desire that matters. You must pray for guidance, ask for strength... and remember that God understands our struggles."
You hummed softly, your eyes half-lidded as you listened to him, but your mind was drifting. His voice was soothing, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if things were different.
If there wasn't a screen between you.
If you could reach out, touch him, feel that innocence melt away under your fingers.
Your hand trailed down your side, your fingers brushing over your thigh as you let out a soft sigh.
His voice cut through your thoughts, sounding a bit uncertain. "Sister ____... are you alright? Do you hear me?"
You smiled to yourself, your mind made up. You leaned closer to the screen, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "Father," you began, your tone coy, "I must confess... I find it difficult to focus when you're speaking. You have such a... soothing voice."
His breath caught audibly, and you could almost hear the way he was struggling to gather himself. "W-What do you mean, sister?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, laced with confusion.
"It makes me think... sinful thoughts."
You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted. "S-sister," he stammered, clearly taken aback. "This... this is not appropriate."
You ignored his protest, your voice growing softer, more intimate. "You know, Father, I've always heard that confession is good for the soul. And right now... I think there's only one thing that could truly absolve me of these desires." You let the words hang in the air, knowing exactly what you were implying.
"Sister, this... this isn't..." His voice was shaky now, the uncertainty clear. "I don't think—"
"Come get me, Father," you whispered, your tone daring, challenging him. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you?"
There was silence for a long moment, and then you heard it—the slow shuffling as he moved. The sound of his door opening, the soft creak of the confessional booth as he stepped out.
You pushed your own door open, stepping out into the dimly lit church. Father Charlie was standing there, his head downcast, his face flushed a deep red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again.
You took a step towards him, your movements slow, deliberate—like a predator closing in on its prey. His breath hitched as you approached, his shoulders tensing. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister, I... this isn't right. We shouldn't—"
You reached out, your fingers brushing against the front of his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. You let your hand slide down, your voice a low purr. "Father," you purred, your eyes locking onto his, "I want you to take me somewhere... push me to a higher calling, yeah?"
His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he stared at you, his lips parting in shock. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and then, almost as if the word was pulled from him, he whispered, "Okay..."
His hand was trembling slightly as he reached for yours, and you let him lead you out of the main church area, his eyes flicking nervously around to make sure no one was watching. He led you down a dim hallway, stopping at a small door that opened into a cramped janitor's closet.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, you were on him.
You pushed him back against the wall, your lips crashing against his. He gasped, and you took advantage, licking into his mouth, tasting the hint of mint on his tongue as a low groan rumbled from your throat. His hands hesitated for a moment before resting on your waist, his touch light, unsure.
You deepened the kiss, feeling the way he shivered beneath your touch, your hands pushing up under his cassock, fingers skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. His muscles tensed under your fingertips, a shudder running through him as he let out a shaky breath.
You pulled back, just enough to see his face in the low light, and he chased your lips, leaning forward as if he couldn't stand the sudden loss of contact.
You let out a dark chuckle, your hands coming up to cup his flushed cheeks, squeezing gently. His face was a deep shade of red, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in short, uneven pants. He looked almost dazed, completely overwhelmed, and it only made your smile widen.
Your thumb grazed over his plump bottom lip, pressing gently before dipping just inside his mouth. His eyes fluttered, his tongue flicking out hesitantly to brush against your thumb before retreating. You let out a soft sigh, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Oh?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on him.
Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, his breathing ragged. You stepped closer, rising onto your tiptoes, your lips just barely grazing his as you spoke. "You did so well during the sermon, Father," you whispered, your voice low and dripping with suggestion. "It makes me wonder... what could such a blessed mouth do somewhere else?"
His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t pull away. You gripped his shoulder, your fingers digging in just enough to make him shiver, and tugged him downwards. "On your knees," you said, your tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Charlie sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something almost like reverence, and it sent a thrill through you.
You watched as he knelt before you, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that knew this was wrong, that wanted to resist—but the desire was stronger, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.
You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, your touch surprisingly gentle. "That's it," you murmured, your voice softening just a fraction. "Such a good Father... doing exactly what you're told."
You took a step back, your eyes never leaving his as you moved to the nearest wall, leaning against it comfortably.
With slow, deliberate movements, your hands reached down, unzipping your mini skirt and letting it slide down your legs, pooling around your ankles. You made a show of it, your fingers tracing along your thighs, sliding over your hips, and letting out a soft sigh as you watched him.
Charlie's eyes widened, his gaze following every movement, his lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. The flush on his face deepened, his eyes locked onto you with something like awe, mingled with pure, unfiltered desire.
You smirked, lifting one hand and curling your fingers in a come-hither motion. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly beginning to crawl towards you, his eyes never breaking away from yours.
The sight sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement running up your spine. He reached you, his hands carefully coming up to rest on your legs, his touch light, almost reverent.
His fingers traced along your calves, moving upwards with a hesitant slowness that made you release a shaky sigh, your back arching slightly as his touch grew bolder.
His hands were trembling as they reached your hips, his fingers brushing against the edge of your underwear. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as if silently asking for permission.
You gave a small nod, and he let out a shaky breath, his fingers hooking into the waistband and slowly slipping your underwear down, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.
Once they were off, he shifted closer, his breath ghosting over your bare skin. He surprised you by gently lifting one of your legs, settling it over his shoulder as he pulled you closer, his face inches away from your most intimate parts.
He let out a deep, almost pornographic groan as he leaned in, taking a slow, deep breath, as if breathing you in. The sound sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.
Charlie looked up at you one more time, his eyes searching, as if asking for final permission.
You smiled, your fingers sliding through his hair before giving a gentle but firm scratch along his scalp, your silent approval. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh before leaning in.
At first, his movements were hesitant, his tongue slipping out to give an experimental swipe. He was sloppy, uncoordinated, his lack of experience clear, but there was a determination in the way he moved, as if desperate to please.
You let out a soft hum, the sound encouraging him, and he grew a little more confident, his tongue pressing more firmly. He licked a long stripe up, his tongue swirling at the top, and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
"That's it, Father," you murmured, your voice a soft purr. "You're doing such a good job."
The praise seemed to light something in him, a low groan vibrating against you as he pushed in closer. The sound made you gasp, your back arching slightly as the vibrations sent a rush of pleasure through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, slipping inside you as he began to eat you out like a man starved. He was messy, the wet sounds filling the small space, his lips and tongue moving with increasing fervor, as if the more he tasted, the more he craved.
He bullied his tongue into you, his nose brushing against you as he lost himself in the act, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him as he worked.
You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, but the soft, wet sounds filled the small space, making it impossible to ignore.
Your hand moved up, your teeth sinking into the back of it as you stifled a moan, your thighs trembling as he continued. His tongue moved with determination, pressing deeper, swirling before retreating, then focusing on your most sensitive spot.
When his lips closed around your clit, giving a particularly hard suck, your vision blurred, and stars burst behind your eyelids. Your back arched, your body pressing against his face as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
Your thighs shook as you slowly came down, your body relaxing slightly against the wall. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. You gave Charlie a small shove, pushing him back just enough.
He hesitated, his tongue giving one last languid lick, followed by a reluctant suck before he finally pulled away, his lips glistening, his breath coming in low, heavy pants. His bottom face was a mess, his eyes half-lidded, dazed as he looked up at you.
You leaned down, your fingers cupping the bottom of his face, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek as you gave him a swift peck on the corner of his lips. He blinked, his eyes widening slightly, a blush deepening across his face.
Straightening up, you reached down, picking up your discarded thong, folding it neatly before slipping it into the pocket of his cassock. He stared at you, his lips parted, his breathing still uneven.
"Thank you, Father~" you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction. You watched as his blush deepened even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "You know," you continued, your tone teasing, "I might just have to come back for confession more often."
He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours, a mix of confusion and something darker swirling in them. You smiled, giving him a wink before turning on your heel, striding out of the closet, leaving him kneeling there, his breath still shaky, his face still flushed.
As you walked away, a satisfied smile playing on your lips, you couldn't help but think that maybe church wasn't going to be so bad after all.
A/N: hehehe, dont mind me, just wanted to see charlie's and y/n relationship in reversal...
#xani-writes: father charlie mayhew fics#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#father charlie x reader#father charlie smut#charlie mayhew#priest x nun#nun reader#smut#x reader#naive girl#reader insert#fem reader#x female reader#female reader#one shot#nicholas alexander chavez#charlie mayhew x reader#father Charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#father charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez x reader
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okay okay okay but spencer dating someone who loves books just as much as him if not more and they gone over it and derek is like damn there’s two of them 😭😭😭
Hii lovely, ty for this cute request. Hope it's at least a little good🙈warning: fluff, like one swear word, pet names, (0.5k)
Spencer literally begged you to bring him lunch today. Not because he is feeling particularly hungry, but because he hasn't seen you in a couple of days, and has missed you like crazy.
And you, lovely as always, couldn't say no to him. Not that you would. You have missed him like crazy, too!
It's almost 1 in the afternoon that you finally come. You have the warm package of food in one hand and in the other something that looks much more heavier.
Spencer spots you immediately as you open the glass door to the bullpen. He goes towards you, and before you can say anything more, Spencer has you in his arms.
He gives you a quick but loving embrace and a soft kiss. It's swift, because he doesn't want to violate the pda workplace rules or anything.
"Hi, handsome," you greet him again, smiling big, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too, sweetheart, so ridiculously much," Spencer tells you as he ushers you towards his desk.
He notices the heavier looking bag in your hand, takes both bags instantly from your hands, and raises his brows in question at you. "Did you pack a lunch for a whole army?"
You chuckle, because by the weight of the bag you definitely could have fed a whole armada. Spencer chuckles in return, putting both of the bags on his desks.
You give a still slightly shy nod to all the team members that are currently in the bullpen. Meaning Derek, Emily and JJ.
"I just brought you a lil something," you say sheepishly, pointing at the heavy bag. Spencer eyes the bag with suspicious face while you sit in Spencer's chair, innocent smile on your face.
He opens it, and instantly gasps. "No way. No fucking way, " he beams at you. Eyes sparkling like some kid's in a sweets shop.
Spencer reaches into the bag, and pulls out not one, not two, not even three, but four chunky books. The thickest of them is a book that Spencer's been trying to get for a while now. It sold out everywhere, and by some miracle, you found it in your favourite antique book shop.
"How did you get this? Oh my god," Spencer questions happily, leaning down towards you to peck your lips again.
"It's a secret," you beam back at him. Just happy to see him happy. Spencer drops the book, and goes to hug the life out of you, deciding that the kiss wasn't enough. Squeezing you oh so tightly.
"Spencer, you're gonna break my bones," you chuckle as he finally let's you breath again.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Thank you, I love this so much. I can't wait to get home to read this," Spencer tells you, his eyes softening.
"We can have a reading night then. 'Cause I bought myself one book too........" you start to tell Spencer as you make yourself comfortable at his desk, while he unpacks his lunch.
From a few desks away, Derek murmurs to the girls, JJ and Emily, in amusement, "there's two of them now."
"Maybe we are just seeing double?" Emily jokes. Though she finds you two adorable.
"Remind me to never accept their invitation to a fun night at their place." Derek deadpans, and the girls laugh.
But you two don't seem to notice their amused attention on you. Too interested in the books sitting on Spencer's desk, and too interested in making the book reading plans for your night.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid
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Moon in the Houses (Part 1)💃💝
This is primarily based on how Moon is related to CHANGES and what possible changes moon placements can bring over time. I've included some other random points too.💛
(These observations are based on the whole sign system, sidereal charts and all obs are subject to change with other aspects in the chart, so don't conclude anything with a single placement, take whatever that resonates and leave the rest,hope you enjoy giving it a read, take it lightly!) ❤
Moon in 1st house- Your overall personality might easily change from time to time. You could also make frequent changes in your appearance. The way you express yourself, whether you are in your confident era or low self esteem era can be easily noticed. You could've been someone who cared a lot for others and emotionally highly expressive but suddenly don't give a fu*k anymore and more closed off. In younger years you could've been more short tempered and take everything personal or straight to the heart, after sometime you find yourself easily moving on and not bothering too much. You are that person whose fashion sense improved a lot and had a mad glow up, people from your school could be amazed by seeing your recent Instagram photos lol. People could say, Oh i almost couldnt recognize you, especially around and after the age of 22. No matter the ascendant, your eyes could be very expressive and frequently blinking or distracted. You can experience significant weight gain or loss, sometimes you feel fat and sometimes lean, your weight could also fluctuate a lot but anyways pretty AF.💅🤩
Moon in 2nd house- You could be an extreme saver, then could think life is to live why am I saving all this if I can't be happy NOW?! So u start to spend, then regret ur decision and go back to saving. You can face difficulty in differentiating between a hobby skill and technical skill you want to improve and pursue, especially can think about making your extracurricular skills as a main source of income. Ex.:You could be doing nail art for fun, then suddenly decides to make it a main career, not satisfied with the outcome and back to keeping it as hobby, this cycle can be noticed. You like to learn many languages or can easily adopt to different accents/slangs in speaking same language. Your stamina could've evolved from being great to lowest or vice versa. Your voice and tone might change, you can experience dry throat or have a husky voice. Food can be your comfort zone, eating good food can easily lighten up your mood instantaneously. You can be emotionally attached to your things, during childhood you could be that kid who had a fancy pencil that you don't give to anyone because you love and value it too much.💸⚡
Moon in 3rd house- You could love your younger siblings or sometimes can't stand their presence, there is no inbetween. Your hearing capacity can reduce due to over usage of earphones, you could be someone who calms down by hearing music continuously. You could've been timid or scared to voice out your feelings or thoughts during young age but turn out to be more vocal about things you care about, striking them hard with your words boldly over time. You can just play music and go on a short trip or at least to the market or neighborhood places often to lighten up your mood quickly. You can find it hard to stay determined for a long time, the cycle of starting something enthusiastically, then feel bored, then rethinking whether it's right, then again feeling dedicated to start again can be seen. When compared with 2H in the same sense, 2H is more about feeling confused and 3H is more about feeling bored or distracted easily. You could write a daily life diary or a secret diary from childhood and maintain it. You just write out your emotions, whether it be just writing your life incidents in a diary or turning it into a poetry.🤠☺
Moon in 4th house- The main theme here is how much of a homebody you are, then suddenly wanting to run away from home, then missing home so much, wanting to come back, again pissed off about staying in home for longer periods, then wanting to leave can be observed. Also the number of times you could've changed your house can be more than other placements, it doesn't have to be residing in different cities everytime, it could be just going to different neighborhood but the changing of houses can be there. Either you love your mother so much or have emotional scars from her, no inbetween but in both cases, the person can have a lot of sympathy and protective of mom. Incase of good placement, you can inherit maternal property easily, incase of neutral or bad placement, maternal properties could be in dispute. These people yearn a lot for comfort zone, they secretly want people around them to pamper and help them be comfortable. Afflicted moon can cause breaks in primary education, strong moon placement can give change of schools.💞💫
Moon in 5th house- For some people, this can give major fluctuations in their mood, like they can go from being extremely bubbly to cussing at somebody in a microseconds. Can give interest in astrology. They could be curious to know what others will think about them and pay attention to it a lot. Incase of strong placement, you could've been the role model kid in your family, a star in whatever you did whether it be studies or extracurricular, this is that cousin we don't want to have lol. You can express your thoughts very clear and loud, you can be opinionated in various topics and tend to stick to it. Your intelligence is not limited to only the course you study, you expand your knowledge to different topics, especially can like politics or just a person who likes to stay up to date with everyday news and happenings. For some people, this can give a major love relationship earlier in life, if other placements support too then this is a potential placement that can attract a young, beautiful spouse and end up marrying the same person.😍🌟
Moon in 6th house- You could feel choked with 9-5 jobs, can feel like it sucks out your joy and damages your mental health. You could've been someone who lived a structured life and entered a fine corporate job but it makes you rethink whether you have to continue doing this, you could've resigned from a hectic routine job atleast once or desperately wanting to do so. Your mental state can directly affect your health (happens for everyone but more easily for this placement). You could overthink a lot about something someone said eons ago. You are a conflict avoider, you don't get into anyone's issues or like to be a mediator, you yourself tend to gravitate away from conflicts even if it's directed towards you. Your friends can complain about this how you are not standing up for them but the issue is you can find it hard to stand up for yourself. Overtime this could flip off and you can burst out with a co worker or someone who's been pissing you off, gaining a shocked reaction from everyone. You can change from avoiding conflicts to slamming into the center of it by mentality fluctuations you could gain over time.😌💣
Let's Learn and Grow Together!💋💅
With Love-Yashi ❤⚡
(Here's a GIF I liked sm lol 😭😂)
Moon in houses part 2 here! ✨
MASTERLIST💖
#astrology#blogs#astroblr#astro community#astro observations#astro placements#birth chart#natal chart#astro notes#vedic astro observations#vedic astrology observations#vedic astro notes#vedic chart#vedic astrology#astrology notes#sidereal astrology#sidereal chart#moonchild033#moon in the houses#moon#astrology aspects#astro girlies#astrology community#astrology content#moon in 1st house#moon in 2nd house#moon in 3rd house#moon in 4th house#moon in 5th house#moon in 6th house
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Slim Pickins (LN4)
Lando Norris x fem!photograpgher!reader
Summary: In which, she can't find a guy who's jacked and kind. Until she does.
Warnings: this is all fictional!, reader has a crush on Oscar in the beginning, Lily is an angel as always, swearing, bad jokes, suggestive at moments, Lando being a fuckboy, this is the end of this seriess :( It was so much fun, holy shit.
Wordcount: 9.1k
Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series
Bright lights. Cars flashing by in a second before her. She made them brighter - more colourful. She made them come alive in a way only pictures could. She made them her own. Adding the preset she usually used and adjusting whatever needed to be adjusted. Whether it be the brightness or whites, darks, shadows, temperature.
The pillow behind her back made the position she was in feel more comfortable than it actually would be. Hunched over her laptop, the light of it illuminating her face, glasses on top of her nose. She had to get the pictures ready before midnight. Headphones over her ears to drown out the noises from the room next to hers. Girlish moans fighting the wall to get through her. But she wouldn’t let them. The loud volume of the music made it impossible for anything to get through to her. Not even the loud banging sound that was heard from the hallway.
Oscar furiously knocked his fist against the room of his teammate. He had a long night already, being dragged out by Lando for a couple of hours beforehand, exploring some clubs and bars and girls. It wasn’t in any of his interest. He had a girlfriend which he loved, he wasn’t in need for more than one. Not like someone else.
In the corner of his eye he saw a shadow slip out of the room next to Lando’s. He felt sorry for the girl, having to hear some kind of animal like Lando after a few drinks and in a horny state. It was unbearable to sleep at that.
“He won’t answer you any time soon,” the girl said, putting the headphones around her neck, stopping the music that was once playing in order to hear him in case he should answer. She hoped he would. She loved his voice. The soothing feeling of it, almost giving you the feeling of his mouth travelling up your skin. Speaking closely; calm.
“Yeah,” he agreed with her, snapping her out her daydreams. “But, thought I might as well try since I can’t sleep now.” He crossed his arms over his body, stepping towards her. Even if only a few centimetres, it was something. Still though keeping a respectful distance between them to not over step any lines.
How can anybody be so perfect? she thought. Her eyes trailing over his face, following his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.
“No luck, apparently,” she said, leaning against the door frame next to her.
He nodded his head again, looking at Lando’s hotel room door once again. “Where are you off to now in the middle of the night?”
“Just getting a snack before going back to work,” she answered, holding up the wallet in her hand.
“You’re still working?” Oscar always believed that after 8 pm everyone - beside overnight jobs - stopped working, leaving the night to take over. Apparently not.
“That’s the disadvantage of putting it off for the whole night to meet up with friends. And now I’m in a rush and immense need of coffee,” she told him. She felt her eyes already wanting to fall shut.
The answer made him laugh, a breathy sound escaping his mouth. The amusement written clearly on his face. Y/n looked up at him at the sound of his voice a smile on her face, though it quietly faded as she saw the almost brother-like behavior radiating from him. He knew how girls could be, putting off everything until the last second to have a little more fun in life. He knew it all too well. His sister demonstrating her tactic more than often. The feeling of him seeing her as nothing more than just an additional sister weighted her down, the truth knocking on her door, telling her once again that there would be nothing more. She knew he was in a relationship. she wouldn’t wanna change that. Not after seeing how he talked about Lily, how he would mention whenever he could, how he still blushed at the mere mention of her name even after so many years of dating. The jealousy taking over the joy of being friends with him.
Though, the bigger hole she couldn’t fill, was that she didn’t want only him as a partner in particular, she wanted someone like him. Some guy who was willing to commit without fear, some guy who made her feel loved no matter how far away they would be from one another, some guy who saw her as she was, not what he wanted her to be.
It was a never ending story of disappointment in her life when it came to dating: finding a cute guy, going on a date, fucking, being told that it would only be something casual. What were guys so afraid of? Why did they make themselves look so insecure and frightened when it came to relationships? What did it even mean: casual? What was the purpose of dating casually if nothing would come out of it in the end?
Why did guys have to be so goddamn ashamed of love?
The door next to them opened, Lando standing in the doorway. Hair messy, grey sweatpants thrown on, his pupils were deflated, his breath still a bit heavy, eyes dancing between the pair in front of his door. A girl was heard inside, calling out to him with a drunk giggle, before she quietened down and fell asleep. He, himself, was hanging on to the door frame in a drunk manner. His eyes almost falling shut any second.
“What are you doing here?” he stammered, his eyes focusing on the girl for a bit longer before he let his head fell against the wood frame tiredly. His head was throbbing already.
“Getting coffee,” she answered.
“Thinking about handing in a noise complaint,” Oscar answered dryly, making the girl laugh at his answer.
Lando’s eyes flitted over to her frame, softening at the sight until he remembered she didn’t laugh because of him, she never did. She never found him funny, or so he thought. Truth been told, she did like his humour, finding it rather absurd than funny, but still. The only thing holding her back from laughing was the general distaste she had for the person telling the joke. Lando was the definition of everything she despised in a guy. He was a playboy, never taking on anything serious and having more than one girl at once by his side. It made her almost sick.
“Sorry for having a life,” Lando answered annoyed, staring at Oscar with bored eyes.
“You know not everything in life is about sex, right?” the girl asked him, growing more cold with him than she did while talking to Oscar.
“How would you know?” Lando mumbled, ready to head back to bed without further thinking about his behavior.
Y/n narrowed her eyes at him. Oscar looked between the pair. He knew they weren’t particularly fond of each other, preferring to distance themselves when possible, but this - the annoyance at the other’s mere existence or voice - was something he never thought to experience. Lando slipped back into the room, closing the door and leaning against the door. He could still hear them talk, bidding the other goodnight, Oscar apologizing for his behavior, Y/n waving it off as ‘classical Lando’ and probably rolling her eyes at the memory of their interaction. He could hear Oscar telling her, that he had no idea why he acted like that around her and that he didn’t do it with anyone else. To which she only replied, that it was because of the same reason she couldn’t handle him for very long: they were too different to properly see eye to eye. She also said, that she was fine with that and that she even preferred it in that way.
What were they too different in? Lando couldn’t help but wonder about everything they had in common and everything they hadn’t as he laid in bed that night, wide awake. The alcohol breaking down, making him able to think more clearly. They both liked photography, racing, friends, family, travelling. They were both adventurous, both keen to learn new things whenever they could, staying up late, going out, staying in every once in a while. He liked parties, she preferred alone time - maybe even with a possible lover. And that’s when it hit him. When his eyes drifted over to the girl laying in his bed, sleeping tight, naked. He liked the company of people, the roaring feeling of a new experience every night. She liked the image of having one person to feel excited about forever, stepping in and out of the house with them, holding hands, kissing softly in the morning, telling secrets, fears and dreams.
But both didn’t like falling asleep alone.
While he coped with it by never being alone - even when it wasn’t the same as how he’d want it - she let the weight of loneliness heave down her chest. She let herself feel.
Taking a shower at 7 in the morning and leaving his hotel room shortly after, Lando walked out on the still quiet streets, camera in his hands. He caught barely any sleep, always wondering instead. Worrying. About everything he feared he couldn’t make right anymore, that everything he did wrong was already too fucked up to make it stable again. The camera gave him a sense of security, being a reminder that even only one photo was the reminder of something good. But coming back an hour later with his SD-card still empty he lost all hope for a good day. Being depressed in the morning made you feel bad the whole day. That was just the way life goes. He had to accept it. He had to feel it.
With his head bowed low, gaze focused on his shoes rather than in front of him, Lando soon smashed into a body. Catching whoever it was before they could fall down. A light surge of hope rushed through his veins, thumbing to his heart as he imagined it being Y/n. Looking up, he was faced with the girl he went to bed last night. Eyes wide, mouth open in shock. Neither thought it would be the other. She mumbled a little “thank you,” offered him a smile and then hurriedly headed out the hotel, climbing in the uber that stood at the side walk, waiting for her.
“Lovely reunion,” Y/n commented sarcastically as she walked past him. Heading out as well.
She almost slipped away from him until he caught up with her step, exiting the building again. His hands stuffed in his pocket, camera dangling from his wrist. “Where are you going?” he asked. They walked down the street he came from before.
The girl stopped walking, holding up her own camera and taking a picture. It was a way smaller one then she normally used. A digicam instead of a professional camera. He had never seen it before, though it was rather an older one.
Indirectly answering his question, she asked one as well. “Where were you coming from?” They continued walking down the street.
Lando held up his own camera to her, not taking a picture like she did in the process. She knew he liked photography as well, finding his jpg insta account rather quickly after doing a deep dive into him on her first day of work - can’t a girl be prepared? He took good pictures, some great ones even, impressing her more than once when she saw that he had posted new ones. Always interested in others talent and passion, she started conversing with him about the topic at hand.
“What pictures did you take then until now?” She asked eagerly, waiting for him to hand his camera over to her.
“None,” he answered, making her frown.
“What do you mean ‘none’?” She never understood how someone could take zero pictures in a new place. Always being the one finding beauty in the ordinary she felt lucky for such a talent.
Lando switched on his camera and showed her the 0/0 and No Picture Available lining his gallery screen. It almost seemed like mockery in his eyes, how it made him look so boring. She was finally interested in what he was doing and now he had nothing to show her. Y/n frowned at the sight in front of her, her eyes slipping from the screen to the person in front of her. Shaking her head in dismissal of his failure. She couldn’t just sent him back his own way now, could she? Not when she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Not when she saw the look in his eyes, a rather hopeful one for her allowing him to stay. And when he looked at her like that, how could she deny him? It wasn’t too hard to push away the persona he had at night and at least try to see the version Oscar had told her about - the version almost everybody else told her about.
Lando was sure she would sent him away, sent him back to the hotel. He was ready to turn around and go, leaving her to her peace.
“Looks like we need to change that,” she said, before beginning to walk again.
After looking at her back perplexed for a second, he quickly followed her. Catching up with her quick step. Catching a photo of her figure while doing so.
“What do you shoot besides fast cars on track?” Lando asked, intrigued at seeing her walking through the streets and mostly not even looking twice at the cars driving by.
“Men,” she joked, smirking at him from the side. Seeing the septic look in his eyes, she added, “Just kidding. Only in America.”
Lando cracked a smile at her humour, but the lack of laugh leaving her worried. “Sorry, was it too much?” She asked, turning her head to see him smiling at her, shaking his head. Most people didn’t found her funny. Most guys she was out with thought she was being mean and arrogant, when mostly it was just sarcasm.
“No, don’t worry,” he assured her. “I like your humour.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, hands behind her back, clamping together. Her thumbnail pressing into her palm to keep her from smiling too much. He’s not a good guy, don’t let yourself be fooled, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t want any more from you than all these other douchebags in your phone.
“I mostly just shoot whatever looks beautiful, anything that captures my eye,” she answered again, truthful this time. Lando nodded at her answer, he felt the same, always photographing whatever looked good, never because he felt the need to stick to a certain type of object or action.
“Yeah, it’s kind of the best way to go at it, right?” Lando said, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, why capture something forever if you don’t like it?”
“Exactly,” she agreed with him. Her voice being barely a whisper now, thoughts coming through she wished to have pushed far away.
What’s the purpose of staying if you don’t even like me? A sentence she will never forget. The perfect guy - kind, sweet, alive, nice, respectful, hot - turned out to be another disappointment. That was a year ago, shortly after she was accepted by McLaren as a photographer. She told him about the news, thinking he’d be happy to hear her getting the job. Instead he accused her of not loving him because she would have to travel so much with all the races and not caring about how he felt about that. Was she really so unlovable to not get the one she wanted? The good guy. The one that felt as much a friend as a boyfriend. Was there really no way she could get someone she could truly love?
“Are you okay?” Lando asked, sensing her now stiff body and her sunken mood. Putting his hand on her shoulder to make her stop walking and look at him. He wore a frown on his face, some kind of worry flashing through his eyes when she faced him fully, eyes connecting.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” she said, mustering a small smile.
Lando learned that, unless they’re your partner, you shouldn’t pressure anyone into talking about something they didn’t openly talk about first.
The longer they walked, the more the streets came alive. But she barely cared about them, she took pictures of the buildings. Doors, windows, architecture. That was what she thought had to be remembered, the things human build and that would eventually fall apart because of them.
“You don’t really like photographing people, do you?” Lando asked as they sat down in a cafe, getting a coffee before walking home again.
They were already two hours outside, finding new streets every few minutes and just walking wherever light shone. When a street would be too dark for her liking, she would just keep on walking, ignoring Lando who promised to protect her. She only said, that she didn’t really trust his martial art skills, so she refused.
“I do, sometimes,” she argued with him. Her eyes turning sharp and a frown came on her face. “I just prefer everything else.”
“And still you photograph me and Osc after every race,” he smirked at her.
Y/n’s face turned red, her eyes widening in surprise that he noticed. She wasn’t assigned to take photos of them after races all too often, being used more to take pictures of the cars throughout the race, qualifying or practice. Still, she would often use her camera to take pictures of them from behind everyone else. Catching angles and moments the assigned photographers weren’t so likely to catch themselves. They were focused on the Instagram account, while she was more focused on sending them to their families for enjoyment and memories. Sometimes she would sent them to Oscar as well, so that he could show them to his girlfriend. A bitter sweet reminder how he saw her.
After being left with silence, Lando continued, leaning forward to talk quieter. “You sent them to my mom, my dad, even Osc, but never me. Why?”
“I don’t have your number,” she said simply, not having another explanation. It was the truth, but she also wasn’t too keen on having his number in her phone.
“I could give it to you,” he suggested.
“You could,” she said back.
She couldn’t get the perfect guy, but Lando was willing to take her. And maybe that could be enough.
“It was nice today,” Lando said, stopping in front of her room at the hotel. Hands tucked in his pockets.
He took about 130 photos, a third of them being of her. The girl standing in front of him, smiling sweetly and nodding her head.
“Yeah,” she agreed with him. “It wasn’t too bad.”
They stood opposite each other for a while until Y/n cleared her throat.
“I’ll see you later tonight at the dinner?” She asked, reminding him off the plans the team had for the evening.
His eyes widened in remembering, “Oscar said, that you wouldn’t be there.”
“I wasn’t going to go, but my plans got cancelled, so I don’t have anything better to do.” She shrugged.
“OK, then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She waved at him before closing the door as soon as she put a foot in her room again. Leaning against the wooden surface, she lets out a sigh. How did that happen?
Y/n pulled out her phone to look at the time, instead she was greeted by a dozen missed calls. All of them belonging to one particular person, Johanna, her best friend since kindergarten.
Calling back, she heard screaming on the other line: “Where were you? I thought you were kidnapped and killed. Holy shit, girl, don’t do this to me ever again.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughed at her friends exaggeration. “I was just out, taking pictures like usual.”
“For how long?”
“About 3 hours, I think? Maybe only two, I don’t really know,” she answered, falling down on the mattress.
“OK,” she squealed. “Who was with you?”
“I wasn’t with anybody,” Y/n defended herself, biting her lip to keep herself from saying more. To not unravel her lies.
“Sure you weren’t,” Johanna said, knowing she would get through to her in some way. “You would’ve answered my calls if you were alone, because you’d have your headphones on. But you didn’t. So, who were you with? Was it Oscar? Did you finally get him?”
“I was with Lando,” she confessed. Unable to keep anything from her.
Johanna gasped in shock, sucking in her breath while she spoke, “No.”
“We met in the foyer of the hotel and he just came back from being outside, taking pictures. Or at least, attempting to do so, because when I asked him about it, he confessed that he had taken no pictures. So, I offered him to walk with me again and we did. Taking pictures.”
“For 3 hours?” her friend asked, knowing how she could get annoyed very easily when having to pass by photo-possibilities in case of annoying the person she was walking with. That was why she always went out alone, until now.
“For 3 hours,” Y/n confirmed.
“Was he an asshole?” Being on the receiving end of most of the girl’s rants about how annoying Lando could be, she couldn’t stop herself from asking. Some things were just too bizarre to not be curious about.
“Surprisingly no. He was really nice, actually. We talked and when we got back, I asked him if he came to the dinner tonight.”
“He probably said no, because he hates those things.”
“He tried confirming that I came as well, because I actually had plans. Apparently Oscar told him about it.”
“You had plans? Why didn’t you tell me about those plans?”
Y/n sighed, not eager to share the news. “I was supposed to go on a date with this guy, nothing serious in the future, just something to get my fixings, you know? He canceled this morning, saying that he was back with his ex.”
“What an ass,” the girl on the other line said. She never understood why Y/n had to have such a bad taste in men, particularly because she deserved so much more. “Maybe you could use Lando to get your fixings?” she suggested, trailing off at the end of her sentence.
“I’m not gonna use him,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What does he do with all the other girls? There isn’t much to it. It’s all the same, just you’ll get slut shamed if you’d do the same. Turn the tables,” she said.
Y/n shouldn’t listen to her, she knew that. Being the friend who had been through the most toxic relationships, and only barely holding onto her sanity because of the situationship she had at the moment, she wasn’t someone who should give out advice like it were pennies from her pocket.
“I’ll text you when I come back from the dinner, alright?” Y/n settled on the agreement with herself of leaving today to let things settle, maybe sleeping about it was the wiser choice.
The knock on her door was a signal that she should already be dressed and ready to go. Instead, she stood in front of the mirror for 30 minutes already, pondering if she should wear a jacket or not. She didn’t know whether they sat outside or not, most likely not. Shrugging the extra clothing off and throwing it on the bed, Y/n made her way to the door, expecting Oscar to wait for her.
“Lando, what are you doing here?” She asked the boy who leaned against the wall next to the door, fidgeting with his fingers. Waiting for her, she supposed.
“Waiting for you,” he confirmed. “I thought we could get there together.”
“I was actually already meeting up with Oscar.”
“Oh yeah, he had something he needed to talk about with Lily, so he will come after,” Lando said, scratching the back of his neck as if in need for a good answer to appear.
“Oh, okay,” the girl said, slightly disappointed, before turning around and locking her room.
“You look good,” Lando commented as they walked down the hall.
Standing in front of the elevator, she turned her head towards him. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
The dinner went by in mostly silence, besides Lando’s unusual presence and therefore also the unusual amount of bad jokes and laughter filled heated discussions about racing or video games. It wasn’t as irradiating as she thought it would be and the topics weren’t as confusing to her foreign mind as she expected them to be. All because, whenever Lando saw her eyebrows knit together and her lips parting in confusion, he would explain the subject at hand to her in the smallest detail to really make her understand what the conversation was about. Making it easier for her to follow than normally.
They stayed behind, engrossed in conversation with whoever was willing to talk about a certain topic, until even the last engineer decided to head back to their room and get their rest. Now, they were sat next to each other at the big table, all alone. The restaurant wasn’t empty by far, still enough people were talking and maybe even eating. Everyone paid for their own food and drinks, so now the only left open bill was theirs.
“I enjoyed going out to take picture with you today,” Lando confessed into their silence, sipping on his espresso.
“I did too,” she said back, surprised at her soft tone and faint smile. “You weren’t half as annoying as normally.”
He laughed at her answer, her smile growing bigger at the sound of it. “I didn’t expect any other answer.”
Their laughter died down with every passing moment, only smiles remaining, as the slow jazz music filled the place again. Cutlery on porcelain skimming through the air and conversation from different tables surrounding them once more. But in their heads, they heard none of that. All they were aware of was their heartbeat and the comfort they found so suddenly in the other. She felt his hand grazing her leg and he could feel her skin passing by under his fingertips.
“Maybe we could do it again in another city.”
“That would mean that you have to arrive earlier and spent less time in Monaco,” she reminded him, knowing how most drivers - him included - preferred to arrive at track the night before media day. He would never find the time go out with her and explore the city then.
“For you, I’m wiling to do that.” Lando leaned closer, his back against the chair he was sat on, but his hand now on her thigh.
“What a charming man you are,” she said back, mocking him in a way, but her cheeks still turned red at the contact.
“It’s natural,” he shrugged nonchalantly.
She scoffed at his behavior, turning her head away for a second before responding, “And the people on the internet call you Lando Norizz. I really understand it now.”
“Very funny,” he commented back. “Still I got you blushing.”
“It’s just very hot in here,” she brushed it off simply.
“Probably because of me, right?”
There it was again, the reminder why she couldn’t stand him.
“Dream on, Norizz.”
“I will.”
They drank their espresso before heading back to the hotel, walking side by side. With the restaurant being only one entrance next to the hotel, it made it all easier and faster to get back.
“Have a good night, Y/n,” Lando said as they reached her hotel room.
“Good night, Lando,” she said, her hand on the door handle and her mind gambling whether she should play the game or let it be. Turn the tables. She did, kissing his cheek and leaving him left standing with a deep red colour creeping up his neck, before slipping into her room and looking irritated by her own actions at the reflection in the mirror.
Sunday came around the corner and though she photographed Lando, she hadn’t talked to him yet.
Their conversation still hung in the the air every time they passed each other in the paddock or he smiled for a picture of hers. Receiving one in return when she looked at the photo appearing on her screen shortly after. She had never done it before, smiling at his face whenever she saw it, but now she couldn’t help it. Looking at Oscar photo bombing by accident made the picture just a little sweeter.
“You’re blushing,” a voice said from behind her. Turning around in a state of shock, she tried to hide the zoomed in on face on her camera from whoever was invading her private space. “It’s because of my face, right?”
“Oh, you wish, Norris,” she laughed back awkwardly, trying to slip into the easy banter as naturally as he did. Rolling her eyes half jokingly.
Slowly, bit by bit, they fell into a pattern. A pattern of meeting and kissing and flirting and growing closer. And no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that this was all for fun and that he was nothing she wanted, he seemed to become more perfect with every second she spent with him. He was gentle and kind. Funny, romantic, flirty, nice. A good listener and he watched movies with her no one was willing to watch with her before. He kissed her in the mornings and he held her at night. He took her out on dates and he made sure that everything was perfect for her. In his mind, a dream girl deserved a dream life. And he was willing to provide it for her no matter the cost.
She didn’t need much, but all his gentle gestures and romantic words. It was too much of all she learned to mistrust. He was a playboy, why wasn’t he acting like one? Why was he acting like this could actually be something?
She still posted more pictures of Oscar than him, even after they started seeing each other regularly. It had kept him occupied now for a while, the thought that maybe the woman he loved didn’t like him as much as she made pretend. Maybe, he wasn’t the one.
The tension in his apartment had never been this high. With her hunched over her computer, editing new shots from the weekend, which she didn’t get finished on the plane or before he left for his quick morning run she would never participate in, he could see Oscar’s smiling face look back. Trophy in his hand and victory in his eyes. He saw her smiling faintly every time she looked from the regulations of the warmth or colour to his face.
He definitely wasn’t the only one.
“You like him more than me, right?”
“What? Who?” She looked up at him. Confused and scared. Caught. He could see it in her eyes. How she prayed he didn’t ask her about the cards which were already laid out on the table, facing him. She prayed for him to see different cards, the wrong ones, but she knew that only one pair existed.
“Oscar. You like him,” he stated. “He has a girlfriend, you know that, right?”
“Of course, I do.” How could she forget?
“Why still sob after him then?” he asked, genuinely curious. He wasn’t as mad at her as she thought he would be. All that he felt was disappointment. In her. In him. In them.
Why still sob after him?
“He’s perfect,” she finally answered. She knew, being this honest would be a possible mistake. But what did she had to lose? Nobody else would know. As much of an asshole Lando could be, he would never betray someone like that, she knew that much. And they barely ever talked, so it wouldn’t be too awkward (she hoped). “He’s a good guy, with no problematic past. He’s nice and he knows how to be nice, which is even better. I mean, who wouldn’t want the nice guy?”
“You don’t care who it would be as long as they were a nice guy?” Lando asked, looking down at his cup.
“I will never get the nice guy,” she said back.
“Instead you took me? The guy willing to date you? You don’t even care about how I feel, do you? All that is important to you is not being alone, you don’t even care how it makes the others around you feel. God, you’re really an awful person, you know that? So self-centred and completely unaware about anyone else.”
“You aren’t really one to talk, Norris. In fact, you should be the one person to understand. Sleeping with random girls to fill in the void of your unbearable loneliness isn’t much better. At least I tried having something that could last.”
“I tried too, with you. I tried having something meaningful because I actually liked you and yes, I slept with many girls in the past, but at least I never lied to them. They always knew where they were at, they knew it was never meant for something more. I wanted something more with you.”
“Yeah, right.” She laughed dryly, rolling her eyes at his manners. He couldn’t be serious. Why would he want something more with her?
“Why can’t you believe me?” He seemed like he wanted to say more in his defence but she cut him off. Scoffing.
“Because, maybe, you are one of the most entitled people I have ever met. You see nothing more in life than adrenaline, in whichever way it’s closest. And when you want something, you get it. You are everything I never wanted in a man.”
“What?” His voice got quiet and suddenly time stopped. He was stuck there now. He was everything she’d never want, but she was everything he desired. She was everything he loved.
“You are arrogant and snobby and put your opinion above anyone else’s. Every time we went out for dinner with the team it was always you who was missing, out in a club or simply at home, probably with some girl too. You don’t care about the team.” Lando started walking around the living room, picking up stuff that was aimlessly laying around. “And when Oscar won, you weren’t even happy for him. I know they fucked up the strategy, I know that you were angry and I understand why. But god, he even felt sorry about winning. He was in pain the whole time - and I know you didn’t know - but maybe stop assuming you know everything about one’s life, because you don’t. You could’ve at least looked happy for him.”
“Yes, I was angry at the team. Yes, I may have been even a bit angry at Osc in that moment. Yes, I didn’t look happy then, because I fucking wasn’t. But after the race, I talked to him and we are great teammates. We talked it all out, I apologized and then I congratulated him.” He put the stuff into her arms, standing in front of her again. “So, maybe you should stop assuming you know anything about what isn’t happening in front of your eyes. Because you don’t.” She looked down at the stuff. It were a few books, a laptop, a shirt that was discarded on the floor the nigh before - all hers. He also brought a suitcase from the bedroom - hers.
“Leave,” Lando said, turning towards the big window, away from her. “Please.”
4 weeks. It had been 4 weeks already and the heavy feeling weighting down their hearts still felt the same. It felt like they could feel the other’s pain too, but both too prideful to admit that things could’ve ended differently. They should’ve ended differently. Nothing was making sense anymore. All of her pictures looked empty now without his face and huge smile covering half of the photo. All of his passions for racing felt dull now without the exciting ping of his phone whenever she posted a new photo dumb, the excitement of looking if there were any pictures of him in them was gone.
Both blamed it on themselves, but neither got over themselves to knock on the others door and apologize or talk it out.
Y/n knew she fucked up. She knew she deserved the reaction she received and she couldn’t blame him for it, having reacted the same when faced with that kind of situation. Though, for someone like Lando, who had to constantly live with the fear and possibility of being used by those people close to him, actually discovering such thing had to be much worse. He only selected a few people he trusted to be this close to him and she fucked it up. She fucked it up the moment she felt the same way he did, finally. The closeness and awareness she always craved to feel for and with someone was finally in the palm of her hands, until she threw it away.
Lando - though he was still disappointed - thought that maybe he could’ve waited with throwing her out of his flat after calming down and collecting his thoughts, though by the time that happened she was already gone, as was every trace of her. Almost every trace, he reminded himself as he looked at the small camera still laying on his bedside table. He hadn’t looked at the SD-card yet, neither did he tell her she forgot it when she left. He forgot to give it to her. But giving it back felt too real.
His eyes flickered from the TV to the camera every few seconds, the plot and characters only being a background story to his misery, a way of pretending to be alright. Although he would never say it out loud, he missed her. Every part of her, he missed it. And oh, how he hated that he did. Missing someone so cruel was the most devastating thing to happen. Missing the one who hurt you was never a good path to follow, but he did. It looked nicer than the shallow, lonesome one he took all these months before her.
From one moment to the next, the camera was in his hands and the SD-card was out of it, connected with his computer. Lando hesitated for a second before clicking on the folder titled with the camera model. It was the same one she took with her when they walked through Barcelona and the pictures on there were mostly, him. She still hated him then, so why did she take so many pictures of his body and face and shadow. There were hundreds of him, on the streets of Barcelona and after the race. Just him. No Oscar, no engineers or random people. The only person clearly visible was him.
Maybe there was more than she ever said.
God, he couldn’t do this now.
The Dutch Grand Prix was nearing. Practice 1 was good, though it could always be second. Racing on the track where his WDC rival won every consecutive race for the last 3 years, he couldn’t help but feel challenged by him every session he climbed into the car that weekend. If he wanted to stand a chance against Max, he needed to win this.
“People would just get more reasons to hate on me if I fuck this up,” Lando continued talking, oblivious to the stare of his best friend until he didn’t receive an answer. Looking up from his water bottle and stop picking on the straw attached to it, he tried catching Max’ gaze, though the Brit wasn’t focused on him or the ramble of words coming from his mouth, he was focused on something else. Someone else.
“I know you said, that she looked good, but man I doubt my knowledge of your taste now,” he answered without giving any context clues. Lando, slow as ever off track, was wildly looking around the area his best friend was looking at. Not finding what he he meant - or rather who he meant - until Oscar stepped aside for a moment.
There she stood, her face shallow, a forced smile on her lips (though it still looked scarily natural) and no life surrounding her once bright eyes. It all seemed empty now. The way she talked without any enthusiasm lingering in her words or the air around her, the way she shook hands so lazy and unmotivated, the way she stood more hunched over than normally, greeting Lily. Oscar’s girlfriend.
A few months - hell, even a few weeks earlier she would’ve lost her mind when the words left Oscar’s mouth after he called for her. “I wanted you to meet my girlfriend, Lily. Lily, that’s Y/n, the photographer you like.”
“Hi,” the young woman smiled brightly, extending her hand with excitement and looking genuinely happy to meet her. “I really love all the pictures you take, whether it be of Oscar, Lando or just the paddock. You really capture everything perfectly and naturally.”
“Thank you,” she said back, not being able to look past the fact that Lily was simply perfect. Not just from the way she talked or looked or was, she was simply perfect for Oscar. The boy looking at her like Y/n had never seen anyone look at someone. His eyes filled with love and passion for her. “Oscar, told me you were studying to become an engineer, that’s so cool. Like, we really need more woman around here, these blokes are just annoying.”
All three of them laughed and though - she hated to say it - it didn’t feel weird. Everything felt natural and nothing hurt. There was no jealousy or conflict building up inside of her, those people were simply great to be around. Especially together. Lily made Oscar talk more, urging him to answer questions or bringing up new conversation topics whenever the talk started to quieten down.
Though with all these distractions around, she still found him more often than she’d like to admit. In the garage, out on track, on the leader board, it was always his name, his face, his car that she seemed drawn to.
Meeting her eyes, Lando quickly turned around again, hitting Max’ leg under the table when he didn’t avert his eyes from her, but instead waved and smiled.
“What are you doing, mate?” Lando asked, slumping deeper and deeper in his seat as he felt her eyes still on the back of his head.
“What? I’m just being nice,” Max answered back, a smug grin on his face.
“Stop being nice to her. Start being nice to me.”
The drivers started getting ready for the qualifying, sitting in the car and waiting for the go. All eyes were glued to any sort of screen there was, whether it be strategy, the cars or simply the screen broadcasting the session.
Y/n and Lily were both stood against a wall in the McLaren garage, waiting for the cars to get out of the box and onto the track. The silence didn’t feel threatening, not after their conversation earlier, but it was still a bit awkward. Both girls were unsure of what to say.
“What happened between you and Lando?” Lily suddenly asked, breaking the silence and Y/n’s stare at the screen and that one car.
She noticed it, of course she did.
“Nothing,” Y/n quickly replied, a tad too quickly she noticed as Lily looked at her with unconvinced eyes.
“If nothing happened, then why are you so awkward around each other and stare at the other all the time?”
“We do not do that.”
“Yes, you do.”
Y/n took a deep breath; how was she gonna get this over with? She wouldn’t tell the Oscar part, obviously. But what other part wouldn’t be necessary and could milder the catastrophe they found themselves in again?
“Lando and I, we never understood each other much,” she started to explain, looking at Lily to see the focused look in her eyes as she listened to every word the girl had to say to give advice in the end. She knew it was needed. “But then, we went on a walk together, both taking pictures and something just clicked, I guess. We found something similar in our very different perspectives of the other. He kind of always seemed to be this fuckboy, dumb idiot that I could never get to like in my head and because of that, I never tried talking to him or anything. But after that walk, we talked more, on the phone and overall. I guess, we started dating sometime then as well. It was only like a month, but we grew really close until I completely fucked it up. We had a fight where he asked me if I even actually liked him and truth been told, I definitely only saw it as a bit of fun at the beginning, but then I started really liking him, but because of a past relation ship - that wasn’t the best example of healthy by far - I had a really hard time accepting that.” Sensing that she was already talking for far too long, she decided to keep the ending short. “I basically told him, that he embodied everything I never wanted in a man and then he threw me out of his flat, rightfully so.”
Lily was silent for a second longer, processing all the new information before she started to say something. “I think you should talk with him about it. From what you’ve told me, you really like him and pushing that feeling away is only gonna make it worse. You’re working with him, you can’t avoid it forever. And even when he doesn’t forgive you, it would still feel better to have it talked out for both of you.”
“Thanks, Lily,” Y/n answered, smiling gratefully at the girl next to her. She was truly a pure angel. “I just don’t think he wants to talk with me at the moment.”
“All you can do is try.”
He was back in again, looking at the data and thinking about how to get the fastest lap and pole. From Q1 into Q2.
And then it happened.
The garage came alive once more, when his name stood on top of all at the end of Q3. Lando Norris got the pole position for the Dutch Grand Prix, and he couldn’t fuck this up. He just couldn’t. All while she was watching from the sidelines once more with a small mile covering her face. Usually she would go out and take pictures for social media, but she wasn’t needed today. She was just another part of the crowd now.
Their hotel rooms were near once more, like they always were. She could hear the quiet music coming from his room as she sat on the balcony in a hoodie and sweats, watching the sun go down, seizing the moment where the clouds were gone from the sky, allowing it to be looked at by her. And him.
Lando watched her sit in peace from his balcony doorway. He wanted to go out, watch it with her, but then he had to face her and he wasn’t too keen on that. Not after the conversation he had with Max and how he overheard Y/n and Lily talking about the situation and her wanting to apologize. He needed to concentrate. But all his eyes were able to find was her.
Retreating back to his room, Lando put on a pair of his running shoes before exiting the room and building completely, letting his thoughts being swept away by the cold air and fresh breeze that flew through the city at this hour. He wouldn’t let her ruin this weekend for him too.
She watched his figure disappear into the night while he ran towards it. Snapping a picture of his back in the process.
Walking down the hall with her face stuck in her phone, Y/n didn’t notice the figure doing the same walking towards her. She didn’t notice him until he let his phone drop to keep her steady by holding her arms, pulling her towards him in the process.
“Uhm, sorry,” she mumbled, bending down to pick up his phone and give it back to him.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lando mumbled in return before he started walking away again. Ignoring her completely.
It was now or never.
“Lando,” she called after him, making him stop dead in his tracks. Fuck this shit, she thought as she took a step towards him and then another just to not having to yell all her feelings at him once more. Just now it’d be the truth. “I’m really sorry.”
“I wasn’t looking where I was going, don’t worry,” he brushed it off, facing her. He knew what she meant and she could see it in his eyes that it did. Part of him wanted for her to say it, but the other part knew he would run back to her immediately. That latter part knew it wouldn’t be wise to keep on listening to her.
“I’m sorry about what I said to you before Spa. I didn’t mean it, I truly didn’t.” She took a deep breath, collecting herself and trying to keep back the tears threatening to spill her every emotion. “I know I was a dick and I’m sorry about that, I know I’ve hurt you and I never wanted to do that.” He scoffed at her answer. “You were never what I wanted in a partner, but you’re everything I need. You’re really funny and charming and nice. I’m sorry that I took so long to notice all that when you were standing right in front of me all the time.”
She didn’t look up at him once while she was talking, her eyes were angled at the ceiling and when she walked past him, she did it in shame. Eyes on the ground and head low. She didn’t look at him, too afraid of his disgusted face she would receive probably.
But all Lando did, was standing there, in the middle of the hall, with his mouth agape like he wanted to say something in return though he was speechless. No words left his mouth until the elevator doors closed and made a ping sound he hasn’t heard in a long time.
“I’m sorry too.”
The garage was filled with anticipation, he could do this. He could win it.
She was ready for it, for the chaos that would break out and for the run needed to make when he actually crossed the chequered flag first and won. If he didn’t crash into a wall, he could do it. He could have a chance at being a world champion.
The chaos that broke out was worse than she expected, but she was there in Miami, so she had been through worse. The moment he was around the last corner, she started moving with the crowd, choosing another way than most of the engineers and team members to celebrate. She was still having to do her job. Photograph him. The moment Lando got out of the car, everyone seemed to explode in cheers and hollows. 20 seconds. Lando had a lead of 20 seconds.
Fucking amazing, Y/n thought, taking one snapshot after the other. Trying to hit all the angles she learned looked good on him over the last year. Or as in his words, simply lovely.
Lando jumped into the crowd, not as aggressively as in Miami, but the crowd felt the same nonetheless. Wild, ecstatic, prideful. He was so happy that, when he looked at her, he smiled, one finger next to his face and smiling at her. Not at the camera, at her. Y/n stood close enough to see the look in his eyes, he was forgiving her. After all she’d done to him, he was forgiving her and smiling while doing so.
And then he walked away, towards the cool down room, leaving her eyes to flicker down at the screen like she’d done so many times before. This was it. This was what she was hoping to receive, but better. She hoped for a pad on the back and a small smile, but when he looked at her, for a moment, it felt like nothing between them changed. It was still them, being reckless and in love.
The whole team gathered in front of the garage, celebrating the win like they’d always do. A big smile on Lando’s face as he sat in front of the sign with his P1 written on it, the trophies for him and constructor in front of them. The whole team was cheering and the moment the click on the camera went off, the champagne was popped.
It was more an instinct than part of a plan, though the moment Lando started to run away from the sticky liquid, running into her direction to shield her from the champagne. Hugging her waist and bending the part of his upper body what wasn’t already protecting her over her head to protect her hair. He felt her giggles against his chest. The champagne against his back got less and when it did near nothing, he took her hand in his and started running off from the crowd and into the back of the garage.
Letting his back fall against one of the walls, he pulled her in by her waist once more. Pressing their bodies together so they were breathing as one. Their chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline at the same time, both too excited still to process what they were even doing. The people outside were still heard cheering but to them that meant nothing. Especially not when one adventure swept right into the next one.
His lips crashing on hers like they were a lifetime separated. Like nothing they’d done before felt quiet like this and it didn’t. This was more. This was everything.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted and I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything yesterday,” he panted against her lips. “But I swore to myself that when I won today I’m gonna listen to the immature part of me and try to make you mine for real this time.”
“I just wanna be yours.”
#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#dutch grand prix 2024#f1 fandom#f1 grid#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#oscar piastri#slim pickins#sabrina carpenter short n sweet#short n sweet sabrina carpenter#short n sweet
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marry you — ryomen sukuna.
Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?" Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!" Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;
WORD COUNT: 7.4k words
NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again!!!)~ this is the final (maybe) installment of amnesia and a day in a life . reader and sukuna have been together for a while after this. they're much happier and healthy here. yuji loves his unckuna and auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a ball writing this because i just, this was fun. seeing sukuna be silly. anyway i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3 also @midnight-138, this is for you, im sorry for my angsty writing <3
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── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
THERE WAS NEVER A TIME IN HIS LIFE THAT ANYTHING WAS NOT MEASURED. Ryomen Sukuna had always lived by the belief that precision and decisiveness were the cornerstones of strength. His brother, Jin, was the opposite in that regard.
Jin was easygoing, someone who flowed through life with a relaxed confidence. That’s how he had ended up casually taking his wife Kaori’s name without a second thought after marriage, something that had never sat well with Sukuna.
It wasn’t that Sukuna found it disrespectful; rather, he simply couldn't understand how someone could relinquish a piece of themselves so easily. To Sukuna, names held power, identity, and control. They were not to be changed on a whim.
And most of all, it was who he was. If his brother was going to let the name die, who would continue it? Yet maybe, that’s besides the point. Because it wasn’t the point.
The point was this — Ryomen Sukuna found himself in an unusual position, plagued by doubt. Unlike his brother, who easily adapted and made decisions without looking back, Sukuna was being dragged through an internal war, and this was uncharted territory for him.
He had always been sure—sure of his choices, sure of his actions, sure of his strength. Whether in battle or in the mundane aspects of life, he operated with an unshakable conviction. It had defined him for so long.
Except now, with the ring in his hand, everything felt different.
For months, Sukuna had been reduced to a more fragile version of himself, struggling with emotions he thought he had long buried, emotions he used to scoff at as weakness.
But this—this wasn’t a trivial matter, not something he could merely slice through with a sharp blade or dismiss with his usual unyielding demeanor. This wasn’t about power or domination. It was about vulnerability, commitment, and the gravity of the choice he was about to make.
The ring wasn’t just a symbol; it was a testament to something far deeper. Sukuna had never hesitated before. But for the first time, he was wrestling with fear—the fear of being vulnerable, of giving a piece of himself away, just as his brother had done so easily. But was it really a weakness? Or had he, all this time, misunderstood the strength it took to let someone in?
He had bought it months ago. A shimmering band, simple yet unmistakably meaningful, one that carried the weight of everything he had come to feel for you. Every glance, every brush of your hand, every laugh—each moment had woven itself into the threads of his existence. And now, here he was, staring at this small, ridiculous piece of jewelry like it was the most dangerous object in the world.
He wanted to propose.
He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He wanted to tell you, to kneel (a position he never imagined himself in) and offer you the promise of forever. The thought was absurd, wasn’t it? Him kneeling before someone?
Yet for you, the idea seemed... right. He didn’t just want you; he wanted to spend the rest of his days making you happy, something he had never imagined himself capable of until you.
And that’s what drove him mad.
He didn’t know how to do it. How was a man like him supposed to express something so fragile? Words weren’t his strong suit, and even if he could gather them, they always seemed to fall short when it came to you. How could he ever explain the storm of emotions, the way you’d carved a place for yourself in his blackened heart? The very thought of it made his fingers clenched into fists.
The timing, too—it was never right. Every time he thought he might do it, something held him back. What if he wasn’t enough? What if, despite everything, you said no? The ring burned in his pocket like a curse of its own, a reminder of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.
Ryomen Sukuna who’s been in delinquent clubs, who’s been the most fearsome wrestler and now undefeated weightlifter — who has done anything, and yet never been frightened. Not at all. But proposing to you? That terrified him.
Sukuna wasn’t used to nerves, but ever since he bought that ring, they seemed to follow him everywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, Sukuna was struggling. So, he decided he was going to get this over with—no more overthinking. How hard could it be, really? It was just a proposal.
Attempt one: At dinner.
The scene was set. A quiet, candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant. It was your birthday. No perfect day, right? It was everything that you could ever want. It was intimate, it was heartfelt and it was just completely perfect.
Ryomen Sukuna had been uncharacteristically calm the whole night, which should have tipped you off that something was up. Between bites of your meal, you saw him fiddling with something in his pocket. Your face scrunches at the sight of him. And then your boyfriend cleared his throat—a sound that, for someone as confident as him, felt almost foreign.
“So, baby….” he began, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked just a bit. “How would you feel about spending the rest of your life—”
Suddenly, the waiter appeared with a massive tray of dessert samples.
“Would you like to try our seasonal—”
Sukuna glared at the waiter, his red eye twitching as the moment slipped through his fingers. You tried to stifle your laugh as the waiter, completely oblivious, kept talking about tiramisu. Sukuna nearly cursed the man on the spot, but instead, he dropped the conversation. That’s just as one would say — strike one.
Attempt two: Movie night.
Alright, he thought, a more relaxed setting would be better. Just you, him, and some stupid romantic movie you insisted on watching. This was just as intimate as the first one, but maybe a little bit more animated. Still, it was just between you two.
He thinks you would love it like this. The ring was ready in his hoodie pocket, and halfway through the movie, as the cheesy proposal scene played out on the screen, he thought, This is it. This is the moment.
But just as he leaned closer to you, reaching for the ring, the actor on screen dropped to one knee in front of the actress, who acted stunned. Everyone around the actors gasped and started freaking out and clapping. You groaned, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it.
“Oh my god, if anyone ever proposed to me like that!” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry baby, but I ain’t that gal. I’d die of second-hand embarrassment.”
Your boyfriend Sukuna froze, hand halfway to his pocket, and quickly pretended he was just stretching. He slumped back on the couch, gritting his teeth.
Not like that, got it.
Attempt three: At the gym.
This was it. No more romantic crap—just you and him doing something you both enjoyed. He’d taken you to the gym, your regular workout routine in full swing. He figured the casual vibe would work, that maybe he could just slip the proposal into conversation like it was no big deal. Everything about this was perfect. Everything was going to go the way he wanted. Yup, that’s how it will go.
The problem? Sukuna wasn’t built for “casual.”
He spotted you while you were doing squats, casually throwing out, “You know… we should, uh, work on something long-term together, baby.”
“Huh? A long term plan?” You huffed back at him, your brows furrowed.
“I mean….something concrete. Like….like, something for us, you know? A long time.”
You blinked up at him, catching your breath. “Like a couple’s fitness plan?”
“Or... you know... life. Forever. Together.”
You squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay, baby? You sound delirious.”
He muttered something about “too many reps” and practically sprinted to the other side of the gym, leaving you utterly confused. Everyone was just as confused. You looked at the store clerk, Uraume but they just shrugged at you. You guess it was just one of those days.
Attempt four: The kitchen.
Ryomen Sukuna had woken up that morning and decided today’s the day. He was done failing, and he wasn’t going to overthink it anymore. He could do this. He knows he can. It wasn’t rocket science. People proposed all the time, and somehow they survived. And it happens, it ends up happening. Everything after that always ends up in a wedding. Yeah, he can do this.
You were making breakfast, humming to yourself, when Sukuna casually strolled into the kitchen, the ring in his pocket yet again. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. You were the only person who could make something as mundane as cracking eggs look beautiful.
You looked up to him and smiled, greeting him sweetly. God, you were so beautiful. You looked like you were made from heaven. A genuine angel, as you asked him if he wanted coffee. He mumbled back and cleared his throat. You moved over to the other counter and started the coffee machine.
“Hey, babe.” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an odd edge to his voice. “How do you feel about... I don’t know... spending the rest of your life with me?”
Without looking up, you shrugged. “Sounds good. Can you pass me the salt?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”
You finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “I said, yeah, sounds good. Now the salt, please?”
Sukuna stood there, frozen. Was that a yes? Did you even know he was proposing?
You stared at him, still waiting for the salt shaker. When he didn’t move, you walked over and grabbed it yourself. “Thanks, big guy.” you said with a playful smile, clearly unaware that Sukuna had just (sort of) proposed. “Now, do you want some avocado on your toast today or nah?”
He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. It was hard for him to be angry with you either. You were too cute. Another failure.
Attempt five: The supermarket.
The ring still in his pocket, Ryomen Sukuna was now truly desperate. At this point, he was just winging it. You were both running errands, and as you reached for a carton of eggs in the store, he thought, Screw it. There were no romantic backdrops, no candles, no cheesy movie scenes—just the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. Your day to day. Nothing too much. This was now or never.
“Listen, baby.” he said, his tone more urgent than usual. “What if we just—”
At that moment, a kid ran by with a cart, ramming it right into Sukuna’s leg. A light groan came out of Sukuna as the kid’s eyes grew wide. Sukuna’s eyes turned dark as he glared at the kid. The kid swallowed the bile down his throat. As he was about to move, you called Sukuna. The kid let out a yelp and started pushing his cart.
The child screamed, “Sorry, mister!” and ran off, leaving your boyfriend in a state of pandemonium.
You, still holding the eggs, glanced at him for a moment and burst out laughing.
He sighed, slumping against the shelf. “I’m never going to get this right, am I?”
You smiled, stepping closer and poking his chest. “Get what right, baby?”
Sukuna glanced at the ring still burning in his pocket and grumbled, “Nothing. Just... forget it.”
You didn’t push him, but your knowing smile told him you weren’t entirely clueless. Maybe you had been waiting all along. Maybe, despite all his ridiculous failed attempts, you already knew what was coming.
Maybe, the next time he tried, you’d say yes before he even finished his sentence.
And maybe, that was exactly what he needed to hear.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
HIS MOTHER USED TO SAY THAT OLDER BROTHERS KNEW BEST. But in all his life, Ryomen Sukuna liked to pride himself never needing to end up asking his elder brother for advice. Or any help at all, if he was being honest. The scarlet eyed man never liked having his brother do things for him. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything.
Because Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for asking anyone for advice—especially not about matters of the heart.
But after months of failed attempts, Sukuna could only find himself sitting in his brother Jin’s living room, slouched on the couch with his hands pressed against his face. He had to give in and concede to what his mother said. His brother knew best. And he should ask him. The ring still weighed heavy in his pocket, mocking him at every turn. His mother’s nagging words came to him, almost as though she would still be pinching his ear. Maybe if you asked your brother, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, bro.” Sukuna muttered, his voice low, clearly frustrated. “I’ve been trying for months, bro. Months. Every time I think I’ve got it right, something goes wrong. I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the words. But I don’t know... it’s like nothing’s perfect enough. I don’t want to screw this up.”
Jin, ever calm and collected compared to his fiery younger brother, chuckled from across the room. He sat in his armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, looking up from the book he had been reading. “You’re overthinking it, Kuna.”
“Overthinking?” Sukuna scoffed, sitting up and glaring at his brother. “I can’t just walk up and throw the ring at the love of my life, you know? They deserve something... more from me. I want it to be perfect.”
Jin set his book down and leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nostalgic smile. “You know, I went through something similar when I proposed to Kaori.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “You? Really? You seem so... calm about all of this.”
Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Calm? Hardly. I was a wreck. I had all these elaborate plans I worked really hard on. I thought I’d propose on a sunset beach or during some elegant dinner. But none of it worked out the way I thought.”
Sukuna frowned, curious despite himself. “So what did you do?”
Jin scratched the back of his head, clearly amused by the memory. “We were on a road trip—just a spontaneous one. I think that’s when we decided to go north. We got lost. The car broke down multiple times in the middle of nowhere, and it started pouring rain. Hard. We were soaked, stuck under a leaky gas station awning, of all places. There was nothing romantic about all of it. And yet…..well, it was what it was.”
Sukuna stared at him, baffled. “That sounds terrible.”
“It was, little brother.” Jin agreed, grinning. “But Kaori laughed through the whole thing. She thought it was hilarious. And that’s when I realized—there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. So, I just asked her. Right there, soaking wet, covered in mud and all the dirt in the world. I didn’t even have the ring on me because I’d left it in the car. But I asked anyway.”
“And she said yes?” Sukuna asked, still trying to wrap his mind around how his brother had managed to pull that off.
Jin nodded with a wide smile. “Without hesitation. Because, little brother, it didn’t matter where we were or how it looked. What mattered was that I was asking her to spend her life with me. She didn’t care about the setting or the way I asked. She just cared about me. And wanting to continue loving me. So, she just said yes. Damn the world or what was good. She just…wanted me.”
Sukuna exhaled, leaning back again and letting that sink in. “I just... I don’t know if I can be that casual about it. I want the love of my life to love it. I want it to be... memorable.”
Jin leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Kuna. It just has to be you. And about your love together. If sis in law does love you, it’ll be great no matter what. It will just happen. Trust me.”
Sukuna sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I hope you’re right. I just—”
Before he could finish, the door to the room burst open, and Yuji bounced in, grinning from ear to ear. He was still dressed in his football uniform. “Uncle Sukuna! I heard you’re going to propose! Let me help!”
Sukuna groaned. The kid had such good ears, damn him. “Oi, brat! This is... it’s not something I need help with.’specially not from you! It’s—”
“Oh, come on! I’ve got great ideas, unc! We can do fireworks, or... or maybe we can surprise auntie with, like, a whole flash mob at the mall!” Yuji’s excitement was contagious, but Sukuna could feel a headache forming at the thought of any of those ideas. “I think auntie will love it, you know?”
“No flash mobs, Yuji.”
Yuji pouted for a moment, but then his face brightened again. “Okay, okay, what about a treasure hunt? Like, you leave little clues everywhere, and the final clue leads to you with the ring! I mean, auntie would love that! Auntie’s always been someone who likes puzzles!”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jin, who was barely hiding his laughter behind his hand. His brother was enjoying this little misery of his. His nephew’s barely thirteen and yet he’s got the idealistic mind. Too much like his brother, Sukuna thinks. But then again, his mother’s the same sort of human being.
“Hey brat, I don’t think your auntie appreciates getting dragged across the city just to find me with a ring at the end.” Sukuna said, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “Auntie would get tired really fast then ask where’s the nearest soda shop.”
Yuji shrugged. “Well, whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. You’re awesome! Auntie will totally say yes.” He gave Sukuna a thumbs up, his usual boundless optimism shining through. “I mean, auntie’s been with you too long, so it's just bound to settle like that.”
“Wait, what do you mean settle—”
“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything mean about it.” Yuji pouted at his uncle defensively. “You know that much, unc! I love seeing you and auntie together.”
Sukuna shook his head at his nephew, though a small, begrudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, brat.”
Jin, watching the exchange, nodded in agreement. “See, Kuna? It doesn’t matter how you do it. It’ll be great, because it’s coming from you.”
Sukuna sighed, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket one more time. “I guess... I’ll just have to stop thinking so much and go for it.”
Yuji’s grin stretched even wider. “That’s the spirit now, unc! And if you change your mind about the flash mob, I’m totally in.”
Sukuna chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Yuji, still bouncing with excitement, suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! I know! Why don’t you come and coach my football team for a day? You can do it there!"
Sukuna blinked, utterly baffled by the suggestion. "Coach... football? What are you talking about, brat?"
Yuji was practically vibrating with energy now. "It’s perfect! You can come to practice, and we’ll, I don’t know, pretend something happened—like, I could pretend I twisted my ankle or something—and then, boom! You step in, gather everyone around, and propose! Auntie will be there all excited to be there and cheer us and you on."
Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?"
Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!"
Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."
But before he could properly dismiss the idea, Jin let out a hearty laugh from his chair. “Why not, little brother? It’s certainly different. Do you have any better ideas?”
Sukuna shot him a look, but Jin just grinned. He could see his brother’s frustration boiling over, but there was also something else—maybe Sukuna was finally realizing that no moment was ever going to feel perfect. Not in the way he imagined.
“Come on, come on.” Jin said, still chuckling. “I mean, think about it. It’s so out of character for you that it might actually work. A little spontaneity never hurts anyone.”
Sukuna rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You really think I should just... go to a football practice and pop the question in front of a bunch of sweaty teenagers?”
Yuji jumped in again, totally on board with his own wild idea. “Yeah! And I’ll totally sell it—I’ll limp off the field, everyone will be worried, and then you step up like a hero. I can already picture it!” He waved his arms dramatically, trying to sell the scene. "It’ll be epic."
Jin crossed his arms, his grin still plastered on his face. "It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s definitely memorable. And isn’t that what you wanted?"
Sukuna sighed, the absurdity of it all weighing on him. Coaching Yuji’s football team, of all things, to propose? He couldn’t believe this was even a conversation. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it might actually work.
Not because it was perfect—but because it was so wildly unexpected that it would leave you speechless. Maybe, after all these failed attempts, that was what he needed.
Still, he grumbled, "If this goes wrong, I’m cursing both of you."
Yuji laughed, slinging an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, clearly unfazed by the threat. "It’s going to be great, Unc Sukuna! Trust me!"
Jin, still leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "So, is that a yes? You’re actually going to do this, little brother? No more backing out?”
Sukuna slumped back on the couch, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yeah. Fine. Let’s try it your way, Yuji."
Yuji fist-pumped the air, grinning ear to ear. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when you finally propose!"
Sukuna let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jin one last time. His older brother gave him an encouraging nod. What does he have left to lose? If anything, if it works — maybe you’ll laugh it off. And he…he likes seeing you smile anyway. What does he have left to lose?
“You’re overthinking it again, little brother.” Jin reminded him. “Just do it, hm? It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
Sukuna could only hope his brother was right.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
THE NEXT DAY, YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK. So, you had decided to stay lazily at home with Sukuna and just enjoy his day off together. Well, it worked out better considering that Sukuna informed your office you’ll be out for a while anyway. You happily hummed as you started making your cup of matcha milk for yourself. So far everything was well. In fact, the day had been going pretty normally.
But then you could only blink at him when Sukuna, of all people, approached you in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He looked... slightly awkward, which was unusual for him. His scarlet eyes darted away for a moment before landing back on you.
“Hey, baby….” he said, almost too casually. “You wanna come to Yuji’s football game tomorrow?”
You blinked in surprise. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the type to invite you to these things. Usually, Yuji was the one who asked, and then Sukuna would begrudgingly tag along, acting like he was too cool to care. But now, he was asking you directly?
“You’re asking me to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also….you wanna go?”
He scratched the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Is that... a problem or something?”
You shook your head quickly, trying to hide your smile. “No, not at all. I’d love to go. It’s just... surprising coming from you. Usually, you wait until Yuji begs you to show up.”
Sukuna shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing just a bit. “Yeah, well... I’m gonna be more involved this time.”
Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward. “What do you mean? Like, are you finally going to cheer from the sidelines instead of pretending not to care?”
He looked away again, mumbling under his breath, “I’m coaching the team.”
You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”
Sukuna shot you a look, already regretting this conversation. “You heard me. I’m gonna be their coach... for the game. Just a trial…..It’s just…. Maybe a one time thing.”
The shock only lasted a second before you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The image of Sukuna, towering and intimidating, trying to coach a bunch of high school kids was just too much. It was all too much for you to think about your boyfriend. He crossed his arms on his chest like a little kid.
“Stop laughing.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed but also embarrassed.
You waved a hand, trying to catch your breath. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m just... I’m just imagining you barking orders at those poor kids like you do with your clients at the gym.”
Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “That’s not how I coach at the gym.”
“Oh really?” you teased, still giggling. “You’re not going to stand on the sidelines, yelling ‘Run faster, you idiot!’ and ‘Stop slacking off, sweat it off!’ like you do with your trainees?”
“Of course not, babe.” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips now. “Those brats won’t know what hit them.”
Your laughter continued, but now it was filled with genuine amusement. “I can’t wait to see this. You, coaching a bunch of teenagers, pretending to know anything about football. Oh, this will be gold, baby. I’m in!”
Sukuna groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping, you know.”
“I’m sorry baby.” you said, still grinning as you put a thumb up. “I just can’t picture it without laughing. But hey, I’m sure you’ll do great.”
He grumbled under his breath again, but you could see the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’d better not laugh when you see me out there.”
“No promises here, baby.” you teased, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I’ll be there, front and center, cheering you on.”
Ryomen Sukuna rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck told you everything you needed to know. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was secretly pleased. And maybe—just maybe—this ridiculous plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
You know Yuji loves some good orange juice, so you brought cold packs of that in the cooler too. You supposed you could say that you were more excited than most. You had the full gear from their team and everything. It was something you requested from Sukuna and he got it for you before yesterday, when he got his own uniform.
YOU DIDN’T SLEEP A WINK. But you couldn’t help it. You were too excited. The practices wee nice but each time you had to leave earlier for work. But this time, you got to have a full day just being there. These past few days, Sukuna's been in a gloom but he reassured you that its nothing. You wanted to press, but you knew your boyfriend too well to pry.
You were just one excited soul to be here. It was the tournament league now. And Yuji's team made it through the finals. You brought packs of snacks for you and Sukuna, some for the kids too in case their moms didn’t have anything on them. Some cold drinks too.
And now, you found yourself standing by the field, watching as Sukuna walked out with the team. The sun was brilliantly bright, and there was a decent crowd, mostly parents and students, filling the bleachers.
But your beaming eyes were glued to the unlikely sight before you: Ryomen Sukuna, your intimidating, tough-as-nails partner, now wearing a whistle around his neck and a deeply annoyed expression as he dealt with a bunch of teenage boys.
You could see precious Itadori Yuji bouncing around excitedly, clearly thrilled that Sukuna had agreed to coach. The rest of the team, however, seemed slightly nervous under Sukuna’s intense gaze.
Yuji’s two close friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, didn’t seem to care and were just playing with the balls and gloves, tossing to each other. But their nonchalant behavior was a stark contrast from everyone else. Some of them glanced back at you, probably wondering why this mountain of a man was suddenly in charge. But you don’t blame any of them. Your boyfriend did look imposing.
Sukuna blew the whistle sharply, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing again. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, his deep voice carrying across the field. “You—stop dragging your feet! Move it! You think this is a joke? Pick up the pace!”
You couldn’t help but lean against the fence, shaking your head with a smile. Well, you were right. It was exactly as you had imagined—Sukuna treating this football practice like a high-intensity training session at the gym. The kids were all scrambling around, trying their best not to get on his bad side.
After a particularly harsh instruction, you caught his scarlet eye from across the field. He gave you a look, clearly daring you to laugh, and you had to press your lips together to keep from cracking up. When you got it together, you started clapping and cheering for him. And for a moment, you could see a scarlet tint flush on your boyfriend’s cheek. That had made you smile.
During a water break, Yuji came jogging over, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s Unc Sukuna doing, Auntie? He’s totally killing it, right?”
You smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s certainly... in charge. The team looks a little terrified, though. Well, except Nobara and Megumi.”
Yuji chuckled, not even a little bit phased. “Yeah, but they’ll respect him. He’s making them work harder than our regular coach.”
You glanced back at Sukuna, who was currently standing with his arms crossed, scowling as one of the players asked him a question. He looked like he belonged in a weightlifting competition, not on a football field. Your boyfriend could have done so many things, you knew. But he said he got bored of it all, since people keep telling him what to do. But either way, your boyfriend would have ended up looking like this. This hunk of muscular muscle.
“Well, as long as no one cries, I think it’ll be a success, Yuji!” you teased.
Yuji laughed and then leaned in closer. “So, do you think they suspect anything yet?”
You raised an eyebrow. You were confused. “About what?”
He gave you a mischievous look, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. “You know... Uncle Sukuna’s plan. The proposal.”
You blinked, your smile fading as confusion washed over you. Wait, hold on. Was Yuji talking about Sukuna’s proposal to expand the gym? He’d been telling you about that for months now, outlining every detail, every plan. Surely Sukuna hadn’t forgotten.
“Wait. That’s today?” you asked, half-expecting to hear more about Sukuna's latest gym renovation idea.
But something in Yuji’s expression didn’t quite fit the usual conversation. His grin widened, almost teasing. You suddenly had the sinking feeling you might not be on the same page at all. But just as you were going to go and talk to him about it, the whistle blew again, and the game began. Yuji saluted you and ran off to the field once again.
You tried to keep your eyes on the match, the sounds of cheers and the smack of fists hitting against gloves filling the air, but your mind was elsewhere. Sukuna’s plan. It kept creeping into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the fight.
He had been working tirelessly on the gym expansion for months, meticulously coordinating every detail. The proposal with the contractor was a major step, one he had been looking forward to with a mix of excitement and that quiet intensity he always had when he wanted something done perfectly.
But now, you couldn’t shake the worry creeping up your spine. If Yuji’s casual comment about the proposal meant what you thought it did, then something had gone wrong. Sukuna must have missed the meeting with the contractor. Your boyfriend never missed important business meetings, especially not one like this, which was practically the culmination of weeks of hard work and planning.
You bit your lip, your gaze flickering back to the field, but all you could think about was Sukuna. His sense of control, of always being on top of things—what could have possibly distracted him? And why hadn’t he told you? Maybe you could’ve reminded him or helped him juggle things better.
Your stomach tightened with unease. Sukuna wasn’t the type to slip up like this, not unless something bigger was weighing on him. You’d seen the way he had been acting recently—distracted, quieter than usual, though he would shrug it off if you ever asked. Was this just about the proposal, or was there something else, something deeper he hadn’t shared yet?
As the game continued, it became even more intense, but not nearly as intense as the look Sukuna had on his face as he barked orders from the sidelines. You could see him glancing your way every now and then, his jaw set, his eyes determined. This was insane, even for a league of teenagers in middle school. But you suppose that’s what happens when you put your boyfriend to coach on the field.
As the game drew to a close, with Yuji’s team pulling off a narrow victory, you noticed Sukuna’s posture shift. He was still his usual composed self, but there was something nervous about the way he kept adjusting the whistle around his neck. He takes a moment for a breath.
When the final whistle blew and the players began congratulating each other, Ryomen Sukuna called out to them. “Alright, listen up! Get over here. I’ve got something to say.”
The entire team gathered around him, and you stood at the edge of the field, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. You could see Yuji trying (and failing) to hide his excitement as he joined the group. Everything about was making you feel like you were going to lose it.
Sukuna cleared his throat, looking oddly serious. “There’s someone here today who’s... important to me.”
The players exchanged confused glances, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized he was talking about you.
Sukuna continued, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’ve been trying really hard to make this happen. I really have been. And I just…I’ve been thinking, to hell with it. We might as well go through with it. Even if it's going to be too much and lame.” He shot a pointed look at Yuji, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.
Your heart was racing now, and you could feel the eyes of the team turning toward you. Sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box from his pockets. He opened it and you could clearly see it. There was something small and shiny inside of it.
“This…..” he said, holding up the ring for everyone to see. “ This is what I’ve been working up the nerve to do for months.”
The entire field went dead silent. The team, the parents in the stands—everyone was watching.
Sukuna’s scarlet eyes finally met yours, and in that moment, all the tough, intimidating layers seemed to peel away. He stepped toward you in the bleachers, his beautiful face softening as he held the ring in his hand.
“I’m not good at speeches. Or, apparently, proposals.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but smile through the nerves. “But I know one thing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
The world seemed to blur around you as Sukuna knelt down, holding out the ring. “So, what do you say?”
Your heart swelled as you took in the sight of him—this fierce, stubborn man who had somehow, in his own awkward way, found the perfect moment. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you whispered the only answer you could give.
“Yes.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, with Yuji practically jumping up and down as the team whooped and clapped. Sukuna stood, slipping the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “Told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”
You laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “It was more than perfect.”
Ryomen Sukuna grinned, leaning down to kiss you as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. Everything about the past? That didn’t matter at all now. Because all this, this is what mattered. After all that you both went through, after all that happens — everything was well. Because he was going to marry you.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
epilogue
As Sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours, the cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounded you both. Yuji, of course, was the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and hyping up the team, who were now clapping and laughing at the unexpected turn of events.
“Unc Sukuna’s engaged!” Yuji shouted, jumping onto the field. “Best day ever!”
You pulled back slightly from the kiss, your face flushed and your heart still racing, meeting Sukuna’s gaze. His scarlet eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of noise and celebration. He took your hand, where the ring sat on your finger and placed a small kiss upon it. You grew even more flustered.
Sukuna sighed, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
You chuckled, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Believe it. You just proposed in front of an entire football team.”
He groaned slightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope. But I love that you did it.”
His arms tightened around you for a moment before he pulled back, glancing at the team who were still buzzing with excitement. He gave them a half-hearted glare. “Alright, enough gawking. Get off the field. We still have a game to win.”
The boys quickly scattered, though you could see the smirks and murmurs they exchanged as they left. Megumi and Nobara were snickering at how soft their coach Sukuna was looking at you. Your nephew Yuji, of course, was the last one standing there, grinning like an idiot.
“So, Unc Sukuna,” Yuji said, nudging his uncle’s arm. “How’d it feel to propose in front of an audience? Pretty cool, huh?”
Sukuna shot him a deadpan look. “Brat, don’t think I’ve forgotten this was your idea.”
Yuji only grinned wider, completely unfazed. “But it worked! Look at that ring! And look at auntie’s face!” He pointed to you, beaming. “You guys are the cutest engaged couple ever!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Yuji, stop embarrassing your uncle.”
Sukuna crossed his arms, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve been spending too much time around Gojo, I swear to god.” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Yuji with mock annoyance. “I better tell your dad to never let you back in Fushiguro’s house.”
Yuji just shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a romantic at heart. I love seeing love win!”
Before Sukuna could retaliate, his elder brother Jin appeared from the sidelines, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “See? I told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”
Sukuna let out a long sigh, shooting Jin a look. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you were right.”
Jin raised an amused brow. “Guess?”
“Fine, fine.” Sukuna grumbled, a reluctant smirk forming. “You were right.”
Jin grinned. “That’s more like it. And for what it’s worth, little brother, you pulled it off pretty damn well. Look at that, you’re getting married. I’m so proud of you, hm?”
Sukuna grunted, still not entirely comfortable with the praise, but you could see the tension slowly leave his body. He wasn’t one to bask in sentimental moments, but for this one, he was letting himself enjoy it.
“Thanks….big brother.”
“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the bleachers. Kaori’s gonna get lonely.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s meet down here so we can have dinner together.”
Jin grinned. “Oh, you’re paying tonight?”
“Oh, don’t think too far like that, big brother.”
Yuji, still full of energy, suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright! Since you two are officially engaged, I think it’s time we celebrate!”
You glanced at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes but didn’t object. “Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. “But I’m picking the place. No weird restaurants.”
Yuji pouted. “But there’s this ramen shop Gojo–sensei recommended—”
“No.” Sukuna said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.
You smiled, leaning into Sukuna’s side. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”
Sukuna looked down at you, a rare warmth softening the usual intensity of his gaze. His voice, normally edged with authority, held a surprising tenderness. “I’ll think of something. Now go on. Go finish the game.”
You turned toward Yuji, who was standing there, clearly wanting to argue. “But unc—” he started, but Sukuna cut him off before he could finish.
“I said go!” Sukuna’s voice, firm but not unkind, sent Yuji running back to the field, his frustration bubbling over as he shouted, “It’s not fair!”
You watched Yuji dash off, his protests lost in the sound of his feet pounding the grass, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. He had always been full of energy, bouncing between enthusiasm and impatience, and Sukuna loved to tease him for it—though Yuji never seemed to take it lightly.
Turning back to your fiancé, you shot him a playful pout. “Must you tease him so much? He did help you propose, you know?”
Sukuna exhaled, a faint sigh escaping him as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. “Eh, He can handle a little teasing.”
You tilted your head, studying Sukuna’s face. Even though his words were casual, there was a deeper affection in them, one that wasn’t always so visible. Yuji, in his own way, had been a part of your lives, and you knew Sukuna cared for him more than he’d ever let on. But Sukuna’s way of showing love was always layered with a bit of roughness, teasing, and challenges—he never made things too easy, even for those closest to him.
“He’s just a kid,” you murmured, leaning into him, your pout softening as you placed your hands on his chest. “He looks up to you, you know.”
Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah, well, he should know by now I’m not gonna go easy on him.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your pout. “Maybe try cutting him some slack next time. You can’t torment him every time he tries to help.”
“Torment?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Come on, he loves it.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward the field, where Yuji was back in action, still muttering something under his breath. “Besides, if I didn’t push him, who would?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, giving his chest a playful shove. “Alright, alright. But don’t be too hard on him. He really did come through for us.”
Sukuna’s expression softened again, and he gave you a knowing look. “I know. I’ll make it up to him.”
As you both watch Jin go back to the bleachers with Kaori, you feel your fiance's arms wrap around you. Your hands intertwined and on top of his hand, was your own. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger, your heart swelling with happiness.
Ryomen Sukuna had surprised you—more than you ever thought he would. And while it hadn’t been a grand, romantic gesture in a traditional sense, it had been perfect in the most Sukuna way possible. Unconventional, slightly chaotic, but undeniably heartfelt.
And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#jjk ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryoumen sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna x reader#unc!kuna#unckuna#nephewji#nephew yuji#itadori yuji#kayu writes ! ! !
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reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there
okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3
wash the sins out of that house - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate.
Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.
Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.
It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back.
Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.
He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”
“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”
“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.” He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his.
You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”
You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.
Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.
He’d hurt people. Done things.
But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.
The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.
Who the hell?
You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.
“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”
Your dad? That was your dad?
Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this.
Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.
Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.
“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”
He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”
You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.
Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.
“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”
He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”
“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”
He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.
You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”
Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.
Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”
That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.
No one talked to you ike that. No one.
He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.
“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”
Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.
He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.
Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"
The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.
You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.
He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.
“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.
You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”
Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.
“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”
You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”
You didn’t know what else to say.
There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.
“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”
I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”
You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.
This though? You never wanted him to find out.
But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.
“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”
You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.
“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”
Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.
Not yet.
“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it.
You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.
Maybe that’s why you worked.
But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.
“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”
He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.
“This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”
“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”
You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”
“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”
You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.
Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.
Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.
Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.
Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”
You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.
“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”
Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.
The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.
“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup.
Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.
Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.
“Hey, Rafey, we go park after?”
You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.
He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”
Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, 'member?”
He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.
Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”
Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”
You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”
You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”
“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”
You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”
Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”
Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”
“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”
Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”
You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”
You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe fic#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fluff#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#requested#itneverendshere works✨
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Hard Launch
Caitlin Clark X Fem Blurb
Synopsis: After dating for a year Caitlin decides today would be the best day to hard launch your relationship together.
———————————————————————————————————
I can’t believe all of the amazing things that have happened to me this year especially my girl that has stuck with me through thick and thin :) I’m so grateful for her ;) Love you baby
aliyah.boston my babies 🫶🏽
y/n y/l aw love you to cc
gabbie.marshall can’t believe it’s been over a year congrats guys
katemartin your welcome 😊
caitlinclark22 @katemartin stop taking credit for my relationship
y/n y/l @caitlinclark22 she did force us together baby
sabrina_i cuties ❤️
overtimewbb goals
lexiehulll best couple out here
paigebueckers favorite gay couple 🙏
y/n y/l @paigebueckers don’t make me say it paige
paigebueckers @y/ny/l IM SORRY
nalyssasmith my girlssss 🖤
You reply to a few of the comments under Caitlin’s post seeing a few comments from some fans that made you smile at how supportive they were. That didn’t take away from the trolls and rude comments as well but you ignored them because the good comments out weighted the bad.
Caitlin comes over to you on the couch slinging her arm around your shoulder, looking over you to see your phone “See I told you people would support us” she says proud of herself and her fans for making her right, once again.
“But some people said this” You point to some of the mean comments dissing your relationship. Reading the comments Caitlin grabs your phone shutting it off and putting in her pocket “So what? Those are a few random people your never gonna meet in your life. Who cares what they say I love you and that’s all that matters right?” Caitlin asks you her hand coming to hold your cheek in place so she can look at you.
Eye contact was always important to her, she loved looking into your eyes knowing you were looking back at her. You nod leaning into her hand “Yeah I know I love you too” you say quietly, that is she weren’t sitting infront of you herself she wouldn’t be able to hear you.
Her hand pulls you closer to her until your lips connect, you kiss her back. This wasn’t a normal kiss it was her showing you how much she loved you. The kiss was soft and slowly her hands holding you to her, all she wanted to do was protect you from the world. She never kept your relationship a secret more so private, for the past year she was scared for you, and what the fans would say or do to you. But with all the media and fame she has gotten, with getting drafted she wanted the world to know she was yours and you were hers. She loved you more than anything, that’s why you moved with her all the way to Indiana, so she could live her dreams with you by her side the whole time.
Caitlin pulls away from the kiss first, her thumb caresses the side of your face “You mean everything to me you know that right?” she asks you. This isn’t the first time she asked you something like this, she always made sure you knew how much she loved you and cared for you.
“Yeah I know you mean everything to me too that’s why we’re here with me by your side while you live out your basketball dreams” You reply to her your hand coming to hold her waist, rubbing up and down on the soft skin under her shirt. Caitlin visibly relaxes when your hands touch her skin, her eyes softening as she looks at you.
Now the whole world knows you together, which means she can show you off to everyone as her girlfriend. Caitlin jumps up from the couch “Come on get ready let’s go out so everyone can see you’re my girl” she beams excitedly.
Your furrow your brows “Baby you all ready posted it. Who are we seeing outside?” you ask her confused as her hands pull you up from the couch. She shrugs “I don’t know fans maybe, someone, a rando I don’t care” she tells you dragging you into your shared room.
All Caitlin could think about was how you were her girl and everyone now knew it.
#caitlin clark x fem#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark#caitlin clark smut#caitlin clark x y/n#wbb x reader#iowa wbb#wbb smut#wnba x reader#Caitlin Clark x you
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deal - cl16 (20/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.
Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael
Word Count: 3.7k
series masterlist
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A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.
It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut.
But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."
You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.
"Please, Y/N."
"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.
He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."
"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.
"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."
You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."
"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."
"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"
Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."
You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."
His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"
By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.
"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible.
"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."
"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."
Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to."
You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?"
"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."
You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"
His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"
If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing.
Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"
Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?
Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."
"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"
"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.
Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"
Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."
Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out."
"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.
Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"
"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"
"Clearly and distinctly."
"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut.
But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.
"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."
"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase.
"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."
Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"
"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."
You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"
Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."
Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?
Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find.
Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy.
You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night.
But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?
He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street.
"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"
"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."
"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."
Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."
You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."
"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."
There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable.
"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."
"We're going to my other place."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"
Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."
"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"
He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."
"We? What do you mean 'we'?"
"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."
Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."
After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?
As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"
His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in.
Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-
"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.
"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.
"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself.
After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.
The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far.
And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before.
His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.
He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him.
He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities.
And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?
Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?
Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock.
Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.
You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you.
Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him.
You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him.
"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck.
"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."
next part
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Break up
katsuki bakugo x reader
Bakugos been distant which ends up in you two breaking up, learning to live without him was difficult
Warning: angst, break ups, arguments, mineta. (This is a mineta hate page🫶🫶) probably badly written argument but it’s more for practice
Bakugo and you used to be probably the cutest couple 1A had ever seen. He would carry your bags, help with your homework, hell he had even figured out how to threaten izuku into switching seats with you so you two could pass notes in class. You were practically best friends with Mina because of bakugo, you had a group of boys (bakugo, kirishima, Denki and sero) who would come to the rescue if you or Mina were afraid or uncomfortable of someone, usually mineta. Everything was great! Until it wasn’t
Bakugo began to grow distant, his usual warm and loving behavior towards you shifting to something colder and more indifferent. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the boy who once made you feel like the center of his world now treated you like an acquaintance, or even less. The cuddles in your dorm, which had been a nightly comfort, stopped altogether. He no longer accepted the lunches you made with such care, brushing off your efforts with a curt nod or a distracted "thanks."
He didn't wait for you or Mina when the lunch bell rang, a small but significant ritual that had always been a highlight of your day. Instead, he would storm off on his own, his mind clearly occupied by something that didn't include you. It was like he was building walls around himself, shutting you out bit by bit. The boys, Kirishima and Denki, noticed the change immediately. Their concerned glances back at you two during lunch were hard to miss. They would wave, trying to get you and Mina to join them like usual, but you felt too disheartened to follow.
Mina, always perceptive, linked her arm with yours and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," she whispered, her eyes full of empathy. "We'll just hang out together today."
You forced a smile, grateful for her support but unable to shake the growing ache in your heart. The cafeteria felt larger and lonelier without Bakugo by your side, and the absence of his presence was like a constant, gnawing void. Mina did her best to keep the conversation light and engaging, but even her bubbly personality couldn't fully lift the cloud that hung over you.
You sighed heavily and walked into the common room, feeling the weight of a particularly rough day of training pressing down on you. It seemed like the past few weeks had been nothing but a series of bad days strung together. Inside, you found Sero hanging from the ceiling with his tape, while Denki and Kirishima were busy playing Uno. Sero, suspended above like a makeshift Spider-Man, noticed your dejected expression immediately.
"What's up with you?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. Kirishima and Denki looked up from their game to see you standing there, looking defeated.
"Nothing… just a bad day," you sighed, moving toward the kitchen area in search of some instant noodles. The prospect of a quick, comforting meal was the only thing that seemed remotely appealing.
"You've had a bad day for the past two weeks," Denki remarked, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip of his Coca-Cola. His casual observation stung because it was true; your mood had been in a steady decline for a while now.
"I know… it sucks," you grumbled in response, frustration lacing your voice as you rummaged through the cabinets.
"Is it because of Bakugo? You should talk to him!" Denki suggested, trying to offer some well-meaning advice about your relationship.
Kirishima, always quick to tease his friends, pointed out, "To be honest, man, I don't think anyone in this whole dorm wants your relationship advice when you can't even pull that green-haired chick from 1B." His comment earned a fake offended gasp from Denki, momentarily lightening the mood in the room.
The sounds of their playful banter and the ease with which they interacted only amplified your frustration. Their happiness and carefree attitudes were a stark contrast to the turmoil you were feeling inside. It wasn’t fair – why did everything have to be so hard for you?
As you prepared your noodles, you couldn't help but let your mind wander back to Bakugo. You missed him more than words could express. His absence from your daily life was like a constant, gnawing ache. You longed for the days when he would greet you with a smirk and a teasing remark, when his presence alone could make you feel like everything would be okay.
You slumped down at the kitchen counter, stirring your noodles absentmindedly. The warmth of the broth did little to soothe the cold emptiness that had settled in your chest. Sero, always perceptive, swung down from the ceiling and landed gracefully beside you.
"Hey, if you ever need to talk, we're here for you," he said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
Kirishima and Denki echoed his sentiment, their earlier teasing replaced by genuine concern. "Yeah, we're your friends. We care about you," Kirishima added with a supportive smile.
Denki nodded, his usual playful demeanor subdued by the seriousness of the moment. "We're here for you, no matter what."
Their words were a small comfort, but the underlying issue remained – you missed Bakugo. You missed his rough edges and his rare moments of softness, the way he could make you feel safe and cherished with just a look. The rift between you seemed to grow wider with each passing day, and you couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness.
As you finished your meal, you realized that no amount of comforting words from your friends could fill the void left by Bakugo's absence. You needed to figure out a way to reach him, to bridge the gap that had formed between you. For now, all you could do was hold on to the hope that things would get better, and lean on your friends for support as you navigated this difficult time.
“nah, it’s good advice.. I’ll talk to him. If you hear yelling from us just… I dunno come check on us, or get Mina.”
So you made your way towards the elevator and down the hall, clicking the button that had the number four in big bold writing. Bakugo and you both lived on the 4th floor of heights alliance. (I’m being fr when I say I googled this) and walked to his dorm, knocking lightly on the wooden door “katsuki? Hun?” You called out “yeah? What?” He yelled back at you, sounding annoyed. “Can we talk?” You asked softly, trying to simply be nice to him “we talk everyday!” He just sounded so annoyed. “No like.” You sighed “can we talk.” You said it in a different way so he got the idea. Bakugo huffed on the other side of the door “yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He grumbled out, unlocking his door and letting you inside.
The blonde flopped back onto his bed and rolled onto his back to look at you. “What’s up?” he asked, the once loving look in his eyes now replaced by a cold indifference.
“What’s going on, Bakugo? You keep distancing yourself from me,” you said, frustration bubbling up. “I haven’t seen you actually try to talk to me in two weeks!”
Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s going on, I’m just tired. Still love you,” he mumbled, but you couldn't tell if he was lying.
“When you’re tired, you used to cuddle me and sleep. Now you ignore me completely—”
“I said I'm just tired, damn it!” Bakugo suddenly yelled, causing you to wince.
“What the hell, Bakugo! I’ve been nice about it, trying to understand!” you retorted, your voice rising in pitch.
“I’m just… I don’t have time for you, okay?” he snapped, his tone as harsh as ever.
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, feeling a sinking sensation in your chest.
“I don’t have time for you! You distract me from being the number one hero. You're nothing but a distraction!” he screamed, picking up a small stress toy that you got him and throwing it at you, narrowly missing your head.
“What the hell, Bakugo! Who the fuck throws something at their partner?”
“Me! Because you’re being annoying! I’ll talk to you like I did before when you stop being such a distraction!” He groaned and tried to turn away from you.
“Will you? Will you really? I don’t trust you anymore!” you yelled, your voice cracking with emotion.
“If you don’t trust me, let’s break up then!” He stomped over and got right in your face, his eyes blazing with anger.
“FINE!” you shouted back, but you didn’t move.
“FINE!” he roared, his breath hot against your face.
“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve done nothing but support you, and this is how you treat me?”
“You don’t get it!” he yelled. “Every time I look at you, I see all the things I’m failing at. I can’t afford distractions, not now, not ever!”
“So I’m just a failure to you? Is that it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with hurt and rage. “I thought I was someone you cared about, someone you loved.”
“I did love you! I do! But I can’t do this right now,” he shouted, his voice breaking slightly, betraying a hint of vulnerability.
“Love isn’t something you can just turn off, Bakugo! You don’t get to use me and then throw me away when it’s convenient for you!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.
“I’m not using you!” he yelled back, but there was a crack in his voice. “I’m trying to protect you, damn it! From me, from this life, from everything!”
“By pushing me away? By treating me like I’m nothing?” you cried. “That’s not protection, Bakugo, that’s cruelty.”
“I’m doing what I have to do to be number one!” he roared, his fists clenching at his sides.
“At what cost, Bakugo? At the cost of everyone who cares about you?” you asked, your voice softening with sadness. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up alone.”
“Maybe that’s what I need to be!” he shouted, but there was a hollow ring to his words.
“Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’m gone,” you said quietly, turning towards the door.
Bakugo stood there, breathing heavily, watching as you walked out of his dorm. “Don’t come back!” he yelled after you, but the words felt empty.
You slammed the door behind you, the sound echoing in the hallway as you walked away, each step feeling like it was ripping your heart out of your chest.
as you went down the hall towards the elevator, you saw Mina try to rush down the hall. She also lived on the 4th floor and she heard everything “*name!*” she called out “what happened? One minute the 4th floor is peaceful then I’m hearing you two yelling! I think they even called mr aizawa!” She sounded panicked “we broke up.” You muttered “huh?” The pink haired girl asked “we broke up Mina, me and bakugo. We broke up.” You reiterated to her “you’re kidding…” she looked like she felt nothing but pity for you, pulling you into a tight hug. You sobbed into her shoulder as the reality sunk in…
the next day, aizawa pulled both you and bakugo aside.
“I understand you two have broken up, however I need you two to be civil. I can’t have you two yelling at each other during class time or during school hours. Keep your relationship problems out of school” the blunt man said in his usual gloomy voice “and with that, I’m changing your seating plan so you two don’t see each other.” He handed you two a piece of paper with the same exact seating plan, except you and bakugo were on opposite sides of the room.
“Tch.. whatever” bakugo grumbled and walked Into class, you stared down at the piece of white paper “yeah this is good” you nodded and also walked into the classroom, mr aizawa following behind you.
the tension in class was sickening, everyone had heard of your breakup and nobody wanted to say anything that would set you two off
minetas ugly ass turned around and faced bakugo with a grin “I heard of your breath up, females am I right?” “Shut the fuck up you purple bitch.”
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Train to Gain
“I want to get jacked!” Jay declared, standing in front of his new personal trainer with his chest puffed out.
Matt nodded, having heard the same thing many times from plenty of guys like Jay, in their early twenties. “Okay, so we’re aiming for muscle gains,” he clarified, making a note of it. “Is there a reason why you want to make this your focus?” he asked, seeing from Jay’s body that he already had a pretty good build that most guys would have been envious of.
Jay nodded. “I’ve just split up with a girl I’ve been with since high school,” he stated without a drop of remorse or sorrow. “I feel like I want to finally do something for myself. You know what I mean? I want to look good. Muscular. Lean.”
Matt nodded. So, just like all the other guys, this one believed that getting more muscle on him would help him score with the ladies. He didn’t need a PhD to crack that little mystery about the boy’s true intention. It was a tale as old as time itself.
Being so muscular himself, guys like Jay seemed to gravitate towards Matt on an almost daily basis, knowing that he could deliver the results they wanted. They saw his statuesque physique in the gym and felt that working out with a guy as built as he was was akin to ordering that body type for themselves in a catalogue. But Matt was not convinced by this latest client. Jay was a pretty-looking boy, with large soulful eyes and a gentle innocence about him. He wouldn’t be single for long. Some girl would come along, snap him up, and this whole muscle workout craze would be a thing of the past for him.
Nevertheless, Matt settled down to a detailed conversation about what it would take, the commitment Jay would need to make and the amount of sessions he would arrange with him each week. It was obvious that Jay had all the enthusiasm for his goals, but little knowledge of how to actually get there. “We’ll take things slow to begin with,” he smiled. “Then we’ll see how we get on.”
Seeming pleased, Jay shook Matt’s hand and threw his workout bag over his shoulder to leave. Then, as Jay was walking out of the gym, Matt watched as the eyes of every woman in there drifted towards his cute, tight glutes in his fitted gym shorts. Matt chuckled, nodding knowingly. It may have been Jay’s first time being single in his adult life, but it wouldn’t take the pretty boy long to work out that he didn’t need any more muscle to get women. Three weeks, maximum, Matt predicted. There was no way Jay would be paying for his services for longer than that; not when he didn’t need to.
Matt was aware that he was in the minority when it came to enjoying those winter months. But as the holidays came and went, he jumped out of bed with a renewed spring in his step, knowing that the gym would be fit to bursting with chubby, overweight and under-exercised guys trying to make a fresh start for the New Year. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was that he loved about them so much: that doughy shape, the jiggle of fat as they strolled on the treadmills. Maybe it was the way their sweat made their tight gym clothes stick to their rounded bodies . Matt was both mesmerised and fascinated by it all at the same time.
It was around this time of year that he had met his now ex-boyfriend who had been trying to lose a few pounds back then. He’d copped a lot of crap from his colleagues at the gym for dating someone so big, and he’d had to challenge them multiple times for their attitudes towards the match. So what if he was into bigger guys? Whose business was it who he dated? Certainly not theirs. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Nine months in and the whole relationship had fallen apart anyway. His heart broken, just as they had all been expecting,
“Alright! That was pretty good!” Matt marvelled a staggering twelve weeks later, as Jay successfully squatted his biggest weight yet. He slapped the guy on his shoulder and passed him his water. “You’re killing it!” he smiled encouragingly.
“But I don’t look any different yet,” Jay grumbled, repeating the same complaint that had surfaced again and again in their recent sessions. “Sure, I’m a little stronger, but not much.”
“We’re taking it slow, remember,” Matt stated calmly. “You were quite clear from the start that you wanted to add muscle the lean way. It just takes a little more time.”
“But what’s the alternative?” Jay asked.
“Proper bulking,” Matt replied. “You give your body all the calories it needs to grow. We discussed this in our first meeting, remember?” he explained, a little exasperated. “You were insistent. You wanted a lean muscle bulk.”
“I want to be bigger,” Jay shot back.
“If you go with the bulking option, you’d have to accept the fact that not all of the gains you make would be muscle,” Matt tried to clarify.
“But I saw this guy online…” Jay began, rambling yet again about some viral influencer who claimed to know it all about how to get ripped with ease.
Matt bit his tongue. He genuinely liked Jay, but he was fed up of trying to debunk all of the insane fitness myths clients came in with these days. He was only twenty seven, and yet he wondered how much longer he could stand to do this job when there was so much misinformation out there. “Look, let’s just try it,” he suggested forcefully, cutting Jay off mid sentence. “I’ll set you up with a bulking plan and we’ll see what happens. If you’re not happy after a couple of weeks, you can fire me and send all your money to those online fitness con artists instead,” he stated plainly.
Still not seeming overly convinced, Jay nodded. “Okay. We’ll try this your way…”
“So, have you got much planned for your week off?” Matt asked Jay a good few weeks later. He’d found that he didn’t struggle with small talk as much with Jay as he did some of his other clients. They seemed to share the same sense of humour and had successfully recommended more than one decent TV show to each other in the past.
“I’m going to a wedding,” Jay answered, sitting himself back ready to lift.
“A wedding, huh?” Matt asked, loading on the weights ready. “That’s a great place to meet girls,” he said, finding it bizarre that Jay was still single after all this time.
“Not a chance!” Jay chuckled, lifting his hands up to grab the bar. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”
“Whatever you say!” Matt chuckled back; his eyes catching sight of Jay’s stomach as the guy’s t-shirt rose, ready for the lift. He could tell that the bulking diet was well underway, with a padded thickness around Jay’s middle, bulging to the sides to form what many might consider the beginnings of love handles.
Jay lifted like never before. After one set he insisted that Matt make the bar even heavier again; grunting with the extreme effort it took.
“You did it!” Matt marvelled, finally setting the bar back minutes later. “I can’t get over how quickly you’re progressing now.”
Jay sat up, spreading his legs wide and owning the space he was in. It was a feeling Matt knew all too well: the sense of power and size after lifting more than ever before. “This bulking is really working, isn’t it?” Jay smiled.
“It is!” Jay nodded, trying to mask his surprise at just how much more noticeable Jay’s extra thickness was around his waist when he sat up like this. There was no way the guy was going to stick out the full bulking period; the boy seemed genetically predisposed to carry a tight little paunch at this size. Already Matt could sense the cut was on the horizon.
Once again, Matt’s predictions fell flat on their face. As more weeks went by, Jay was very quickly becoming one of Matt’s strongest clients. However, it was all coming at quite a cost to the guy’s naturally athletic physique. Built around a solid core, Jay’s chunky middle was rounded and significantly paunch-like in appearance, despite being somewhat muted by the large chest and muscular shoulders that had grown alongside it. If Jay had been going for that muscular V-shaped back, he had fallen far short of the mark. His stout tummy had swelled out his love handles to a size that could not be hidden by pretty much any of the t-shirts that he wore in the gym. Matt had even seen the guy out and about upon occasion, feeling shocked at just how thick and overfed he actually looked; especially with that meaty swagger he had about him, artificially pushing out his arms to increase his width.
“And, we’ll finish with twenty minutes on the treadmill,” Matt declared during their next session, waiting for the exhausted guy to sluggishly pick himself up off the weight machine.
“The treadmill?” Jay asked, as if Matt had been joking. “I’m not paying for you to watch me on the treadmill for twenty minutes,” he laughed.
“You do realise that we’re going to be putting a lot more cardio exercises into your routine from now on? We agreed to start cutting from next week, remember?”
Jay brushed him off, insisting that he could do another set on the machine he was currently on. The rest of the session continued in that manner until the time was depleted. Then a sweaty, beefy looking Jay simply lifted a protein shake to his mouth and began chugging.
“What’s in that thing?” Matt asked, noticing that it was far thicker than any of the recipes he had supplied to Jay. He took it from Jay’s limp hand and held it to his nose. “That’s so sweet!” he gasped, recoiling slightly. Swirling the remaining third in the bottle, Matt declared with absolute certainty that this was not part of the diet plan he had given Jay.
“I found the recipe online,” Jay shot back, snatching the shake back and draining it quickly. “I drink four of these daily. Your shake recipes were good, but I wasn’t packing on the muscle half as quickly as I am now.”
Matt winced. Jay had been heading in the wrong direction for weeks now; his muscle gains overshadowed by significant increases in fat. And Matt had been ignoring it all, pushing it to the back of his mind, denying it. “Have you got the recipe for me to look at?” he asked diplomatically.
Jay lazily held out his hand for Matt to pass him his cell phone from his bag. Then, after a couple of seconds, the webpage link came buzzing through to Matt.
“Um…” Matt mumbled, feeling his heart beating with worry. “Have you really been drinking these four times a day? Did you not think to check out the ingredients? All that sugar? Condensed milk?”
“I’m not an idiot!” Jay grumbled back, as Matt noticed the fat that was starting to build up under the handsome boy’s chin and into his cheeks. “These things promise results and they deliver. I’ve gained 25 lbs in the last two months alone!”
Matt took a step back, feeling that he had let Jay down more than any other client he had ever had. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him was a spark of attraction. Jay was starting to look genuinely fat. It was literally spreading across his entire body and had been doing so for weeks. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled guiltily. “I should have been more on top of your diet planner. This should never have happened.”
Jay seemed utterly perplexed by Matt’s remorse, but he agreed to pack up his stuff and head out to a local cafe for a more thorough debrief. They sat with two coffees at a small table near the front as Matt considered how best to insist that Jay quit the shakes as soon as possible.
Matt thought he had his speech all ready to go. He inhaled, ready to begin, when he suddenly noticed that Jay’s attention was elsewhere. A large, overweight guy had come in through the door, making Jay look across with interest. Matt followed his gaze and then cringed with regret, realising that the man was none other than his ex boyfriend, Chris. They had just made eye contact.
“I’m really sorry about this!” Matt blasted out, realising that his almost 400 lb ex was heading over to the table and there was nothing that he could do to stop him.
“Hello Matt,” the large bellied guy smiled. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah,” Matt nodded, not looking directly at him in the hopes that he would soon get the message and leave them be. “Nice to see you, Chris,” he lied.
“I gained a bit of weight recently,” Chris went on, patting his fat stomach. “I’d love to show you some time.”
“I’m actually with a client right now!” Matt hissed, losing patience. “When I said that things were over between us, I meant it.”
Chris looked down at them both, giving Jay in particular the most filthy of looks. Then he turned, deciding that the coffee house was no good after all and disappeared out of the door.
“Who was that?” Jay exclaimed the second the guy’s large form had disappeared beyond the windows.
“My ex,” Matt sighed, feeling frustrated that they should bump into each other here; whilst he was with a client no less! “We broke up about eight months ago.”
“You? And HIM?” Jay asked in disbelief, making it hard for Matt to tell whether it was the fact that he dated guys that most surprised Jay, or the sheer size of that ex-boyfriend. Either way, it became the focus of a long line of questions that Matt was finding difficult to deflect.
“I’ve made a decision,” Jay finally declared as they at last got off the topic of Matt’s love life. “I want to keep the bulk going for another six weeks.”
“I would very strongly advise against that,” Matt replied immediately.
“Six more weeks!” Jay laughed, as if he was making the simplest of alterations to their training plan. “It’s nothing! You need to learn to relax, buddy!”
Matt sighed. Perhaps because he was still reeling from coming face to face with Chris again, he did not feel especially inclined to argue. Jay was a client after all, and his wishes had to be respected - even if he was making a choice that Matt knew would make it significantly harder for the guy to get back in shape afterwards.
Just as Matt had anticipated, the weight that poured onto Jay’s body over the coming weeks was nothing more than pure fat. He’d find himself staring at it, having never felt so conflicted in his life. He was attracted by fat on a guy’s body, yes. But Jay was also a client who was confused by all of the bad advice out there and had caught himself up in a pattern of weight gain that was bloating his previously toned body. The sight of it, Matt had to admit, was nothing short of wildly arousing.
“He’s one of yours isn’t he?” asked one of the other trainers as Jay walked in for his training session wearing a t-shirt that was significantly too tight for his bloated torso. The guy braced himself against the wall to stretch out his calves, not realising how much his shirt had ridden up in the process and exposing a good three inches of his new, overfed tummy pushing itself over the waistband.
“Great work, Matt,” sneered Harry, the other male trainer, giving him a sarcastic slow clap as the three of them all watched Jay from a good distance.
Matt wanted to explain how he hadn’t been to blame; how Jay had found bad advice online instead, and was continuing to bulk against his advice. However, there was a strange thrill in not saying anything at all; something that Matt could not explain, even if he tried.
Next, Jay began squatting, spreading his chunky legs wide apart with the good posture that Matt had taught him, then lifting his body up and down. It was a simple move and not at all noteworthy but for the extreme tightness of the shorts he was wearing, pulling the waistband lower and lower at the back, revealing more and more of his butt crack with each dip; thanks in part to the similarly undersized underwear he had on underneath.
“Ugh!” laughed Harry.. “No one wants to see that!”
Matt looked around at the others in the gym. Jay was indeed getting looks of disapproval, and even disgust, for his scandalously tight clothing.
“You need to have a word,” the trainers all agreed. “He’s putting people off. It’s bad for business.”
Matt sighed. He knew what they were saying was right, but how could he even begin a conversation about it to a client who was paying him? Especially one he was starting to crush on in the most inappropriate of ways.
Despite Jay’s confidence on the weights, it was quite clear during that session that the guy wasn’t making as much progress with his lifting than he obviously thought he was. In fact, his lifting had peaked almost two months earlier and there had been minimal successes since then. What had changed was the amount of sweating Jay was doing; leaving the machines with a damp imprint of his overfed rear which Matt wiped down each time. But with the sweating, Jay’s clothing tightened around him even more. Matt didn’t need to see Jay on the scales, he was an expert on every part of his body, knowing exactly how it was altering because he could see it right there, before his very eyes. He had to breathe a little deeper when he felt the arousal getting too much for him. Jay’s butt was pure perfection; shaped by good genes and some decent early muscle gains, but now swelling and widening with the pounds and pounds of fat the guy was amassing.
Jay had been buzzing about his new apartment; finally allowing him to get out of parents’ place. It was going to make bulking a lot easier, he’d declared, making Matt feel uneasy about how much more extreme his client may take things.
“I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff all over the place,” Jay complained. “I need a good sort out, really. It’s just so easy to dump it all in the closet and forget about it though.”
“That reminds me,” Matt jumped in, seeing an opening and seizing upon it. “I got an email the other day for a good discount on the online shop I use for clothes,” he began, having pondered over how best to approach the clothes issue for the entire hour of their session. “It can be quite hard to find stuff that fits right when you’re a bodybuilder.”
“Tell me about it!” nodded the chubby boy, not sensing the irony in his words in the slightest. “None of my clothes fit properly anymore.”
Matt nodded. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a good lead in to discuss Jay’s dissatisfaction with his clothing and how he shouldn’t really be feeling such tightness around his stomach when he was trying to pack on muscle. As it was, he could feel the eyes of the other trainers on the back of his head. The only task he had to complete was getting Jay out of those ridiculously tight gym clothes. “I use this brand,” he lied, showing Jay the webpage he had just got up on his cell phone. He knew that impressionable guys like Jay wanted to look like him; to have the same confidence and presence. If he recommended a clothes line to them, he was pretty certain they would take it. “With the progress you’ve been making, you could probably get away with the extra large, but the 2XL might suit your needs more if you’re still in the bulking phase. Fast delivery too.”
Jay nodded with interest and took every link that Matt sent him.
“I’ve spoken to him about the clothes,” Matt nodded, seeing the faces of expectation from the other trainers as he went back after the session ended.
“I know it’s tough having to tell a client that they’re getting too heavy,” Harry nodded. “But when he’s spilling out of his clothes like that, enough is enough. It’s time to say something.”
Matt nodded, knowing that Harry was exactly right. But that wasn’t what he had done, was it? He’d sent Jay off believing that he was making ‘progress’ and that he needed to wear clothes suitable for bodybuilders. The reality was anything but. Jay was chubby and out of shape. He’d not done any cardio in… it must have been months! He was a client who kept Matt awake at night with his feelings of guilt. He was letting the guy down, and this latest stunt was his worst sin of all.
It came as no surprise when Jay continued to be obsessed with bulking, even after the third and fourth deadlines for cutting came and went. The small mercy was that Jay was at least dressed better in the gym. With his new clothes, he was starting to look like any other broad, fat guy. His pretty face was still getting him the odd glance from some of the women, but the fatter body underneath was more than enough to ensure that it never progressed into anything more.
“You’ll never guess what I managed to get tickets for!” Jay blasted one Wednesday evening as he came in for his session.
“No way?” Matt grinned, knowing exactly where Jay was going with this. “You got them? But the concert has been sold out for months!”
“They were giving away tickets on the radio. I phoned up, answered some trivia questions live on air with someone else and… they’re mine!” he grinned, clearly delighted with himself.
“Congratulations!” Matt beamed. “I’m so jealous! You’re going to have such a great time!”
“No… WE’RE going to have such a great time,” Jay corrected him. “They asked me on the radio show who I wanted to take with me, and I told them your name. You’re the only person I know who is as obsessed with them as I am. No one else would appreciate it like you would.”
Matt’s initial reaction was to decline. There were many clients who tried to socialise outside of these sessions, but it was almost always unprofessional to do so. However, he had also desperately wanted to see this band since he was eight years old. Plus, he and Jay did genuinely seem to get on pretty well.”
“Can I give you some money for the ticket then?” he asked.
“No, I got them for free,” Jay shot back, shaking his head.
“Well, I’ll drive us then,” Matt tried to compromise, knowing that the concert was a good couple of hours away. “I know where your new place is. I can pick you up at about 4pm on Saturday afternoon?”
Jay nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. Then, for the rest of the week, Matt was telling all of his clients about the concert and how excited he was. He was amazed that not a single person had heard of the band or even recognised any of the tracks when he played a couple of samples for them on his cell phone. ‘What the hell was wrong with people?’ he thought to himself, highlighting in his mind just how much better he clicked with Jay than anyone else he worked with.
That Saturday, Matt didn’t really know who he was trying to impress as he slipped on his most expensive shirt and left the last three buttons undone to expose part of his strapping chest. He turned up at Jay’s building, expecting to head straight off, but was instead buzzed inside.
“Sorry!” Jay spluttered, opening the door to him, covered with only a small towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I had a big lunch and fell asleep! I only woke up ten minutes ago.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Matt nodded, trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jay’s face and not look down to explore his client’s beautifully chubby proportions. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Jay trotted back into his bedroom; his jiggly love handles bouncing with the quick pace he was going at. Matt simply took a deep breath and tried to control the arousal that he felt. He looked around the apartment, coming to one very obvious conclusion: This was the home of a fat guy. It was obvious; from the small armies of empty beer cans, to the carnage of emptied take out containers and pizza boxes. Discarded clothes dotted the space and Matt found himself meandering into the kitchen; his curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the refrigerator and peeked in all of the cupboards as quietly as he possibly could. What he found was far worse than he ever would have imagined: cakes, candy, cookies and several containers of those disastrous protein shakes… Jay had the lot, and then some. The guy was eating like a pig and putting on weight at a frankly alarming rate. Matt tried to breathe deeply again, but this time, the blood rushing towards his groin seemed determined to give him a full on erection.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” Jay smiled moments later, coming out in a shirt that was far too small for his stout little gut. He opened the refrigerator and downed one of his shakes, as was his usual routine at this time. Once again, Matt had to look away. Then, as the last of it drained, Jay lifted his arms and pumped his biceps, now covered in a good layer of pure fat.
The conversation flowed well in the car as the pair listened to a few of the band’s old albums and talked at length about their shared interests.
“If we’ve still got twenty minutes before we need to go in, I’m going to find some food,” Jay declared once they had parked up. He walked slightly ahead as Matt tried to avert his eyes away from the guy’s wide, overfed glutes, barely contained in his overly tight pants. “I absolutely love bulking,” he declared a few minutes later, holding a giant burger in both hands and raising it part way to his mouth. Then, like a genuine glutton, he dropped his head over it and began feasting with his large shoulders hunched forwards.
Matt genuinely did try to enjoy the concert, but he was conscious of trying to hold back an erection the entire time. He wondered why his brain had to be wired up this way. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the music without getting turned on by the significantly chubby guy he had come here with? He’d had to sit for significant periods of the concert with his hands resting over his crotch as Jay danced beside him, arms up in the air and his rounded tummy popping out. It was so humid in there, making Jay glow with a beautiful fat-boy sweat and ensuring that his clothes plastered themselves to his thick body even more than they already were doing.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jay smiled the moment the lights came up. “How would you like to go backstage?”
Matt couldn’t believe it as he was shaking hands with his idols and chatting away with other fans backstage only minutes later. It truly was an extraordinary night.
“So, how do you guys know each other?” the lead singer asked as he came up to them both at the bar.
“Matt’s my personal trainer,” Jay answered, downing his beer into his bloated belly.
“I can see you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the singer whispered to Matt, tapping him on his strong back in sympathy.
“I’m in the best shape of my life,” Matt went on, clearly a little tipsy. He put his beer down and reached into his tight pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is me, before I started training,” he declared, passing the singer a picture of him from just under eleven months ago: slim, handsome, athletic.
“And this is you… ‘before’ you started training?” the guy asked, ensuring that he wasn’t misunderstanding.
Jay nodded enthusiastically, raising his chubby arms to flex and simultaneously letting his chubby belly fall out for the umpteenth time that evening.
“Right,” the singer nodded, confused and surprised; possibly wondering if Jay was making some sort of joke. He slapped Matt on the back once more, then headed off to speak to some others.
When Jay asked to stop off for more food on the way back, Matt didn’t feel that he really had the right to refuse him after the night they had had together. However, it was yet another torturous exercise, having to sit next to Jay as he was gorging his fat body on more fries and burgers in the passenger seat. The sounds of his greedy chewing and swallowing were turning on an already stimulated sex drive to even greater extremes.
“I thought he might have been flirting with you,” Jay explained as they discussed their encounter with the lead singer. “The way he kept on tapping you on the back like that.”
“That wasn’t what that was about,” Matt answered simply as he tried to control the boner he was getting, listening to Jay sucking air as he reached the end of his gigantic milkshake.
“You must have people flirting with you all the time, the shape you’re in,” Jay continued, stuffing the last of the fries into his mouth.
Matt took a breath in, wondering how to answer something like that. The answer was yes; he certainly did get a lot of attention from both guys and girls. But, as was being made strikingly clear to him that evening, the types of people he found attractive himself were often quite far from what most would expect.
“You don’t talk much about this sort of stuff, do you?” Jay asked him next after a pause.
“Neither do you,” Matt shot back.
“I’m just out of a long term relationship,” Jay replied grandly.
“Over a year ago!” Matt laughed. “In that case, I can use the same excuse.”
“You mean that huge guy we met in the coffee house that time? You were really into him?”
“I was in love with him, yes,” Matt replied, feeling that the conversation was getting a little too close to the bone now.
“How did he get that big? Was he always fat? Or did he just put on weight as an adult?” Jay pressed on obliviously.
“Combination of both, I expect,” Matt shrugged, trying to think of how to shift the conversation away from his ex.
“Do you think I could ever get as big as he is?” Jay asked.
Matt looked across at Jay in confusion. “Chris wasn’t a weight lifter, y’know?” he stated plainly. “He was probably as weak as a kitten. He was just… very overweight.”
“I just remember him being large,” Jay shrugged. “Guys like that always make me feel a little jealous.”
“There aren’t many people who would be jealous of Chris’ body type,” Matt chuckled, assuming that Jay was making fun.
“I think, if I kept up my protein shakes, I’d have a chance at getting to his sort of size,” Jay pondered aloud.
“I have no doubt that you would,” Matt nodded. “But it wouldn’t be lean muscle, I can promise you that.”
“Do you think it would suit me?” Jay asked playfully back.
Now Matt felt entirely on the backfoot. There was no way to answer the question without incriminating himself somehow. “I guess so,” he mumbled vaguely.
“So, do you think I should give up weight lifting then?” the guy immediately replied..
“I didn’t say that,” Matt countered.
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’ve had a lot more success gaining weight and getting big in other ways, rather than muscle. Maybe I should just focus on that?”
“You know exactly what I’d say to that. I’m a personal trainer!” Matt reminded him. “Of course you’re not supposed to give up weight training and just let yourself get fat.”
“You can be such a square sometimes,” Jay laughed. “You’re so caught up with your diet plans, your nutrition goals and research papers on exercise schedules. You forget that most people don’t care about any of that stuff. It’s all about feeling good in your own body.”
The last fifteen minutes of the journey went by a little smoother, with the conversation naturally evolving into something lighter.
“Want to come in and grab those recipe books you lent me?” Jay asked as they parked up outside his building.
Thinking about another of his clients, Matt nodded keenly. It was more than obvious that Jay had little interest in any of the lean meals in them, so why not pass them on? He followed the guy up the stairs, allowing his brain to fantasise about taking the chubby guy straight into his bedroom. Now that he knew he would be home in twenty minutes and able to release all the pent-up sexual frustration from his evening with Jay, he somehow felt more able to embrace it; gazing with lust at those giant glutes, like round globes of fat, pressed tightly into Jay’s pants as he walked up the stairs ahead of him.
“They’ll be in my closet somewhere,” Jay explained, leading Matt into his bedroom. Inside here, the mess of take out containers continued, making it clear that Jay did just as much of his eating in bed, as he did anywhere else in the apartment. He reached over a pile of boxes and leaned into this closet, presenting Matt with a full view of his wide rear. Matt simply stared at it, swooning.
Jay had to lean in more and more, too lazy to move the boxed out of the way, and grunting from the effort. Matt told him not to worry; that he could get them some other time, but still Jay persevered, leaning even more of his weight onto the boxes at the front. Then, in a split second, they gave way underneath him, sending Jay falling head first into the closet, his legs up in the air.
Matt grabbed at him in a swift rescue, lifting him up and out by pulling him by his waistband and trying to reach his arm in to hold Jay just above his waist. He was a very heavy boy indeed, and not easy to shift, but eventually he came, looking significantly worse for wear. The most stressed buttons on his shirt had popped clean off and his pants had ripped as Matt had tried to pull him up from behind.
“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbled, seeing what a state Jay now looked in his torn clothes. He’d had to pull him at a strange angle to get him back upright and, although he hoped it wasn’t the case, there was a possibility that Jay might have felt the erection in his pants as he was put back on his feet.
Jay flattened his hair and shuffled over to his mirror. His fingers explored the ripped buttons and torn material. There was his little fat belly popping out like never before; his significant fat gains never looking more obvious. The hallmarks of actual obesity starting to shine through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked, wondering why Jay was so stunned; his nervousness increasing by the second.
“If I asked you to stay tonight, would you?” Jay asked simply.
“Why do you want me to stay?” Matt asked. “Do you think you’ve hurt yourself?”
Jay did not answer, but simply unbuttoned only the remaining buttons of his shirt and let the material fall to the floor. “Stay,” he repeated, letting Matt’s gaze fall in its entirety upon his bloated, fattened body. “I can tell that you’d like to.”
Matt allowed himself to enjoy the sight. His fingers twitched at his side, desperate to explore and touch. “Do you mean that?” he asked, no longer hiding his interest.
Jay nodded, grabbing a wedge of his own fat. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person who gets a boner over this stuff.”
Immediately, Matt pulled Jay into a deeply passionate kiss. Their hands began to explore each other and they soon fell, entirely naked onto the unmade bed. Finally, the fizzing sexual tension that had been torturing Matt all night was set free; the fireworks still to come.
Matt woke the next morning as the light began pouring in through Jay’s window. He turned, seeing the bloated boy still resting deeply. Despite his good looks, this wasn’t the sort of thing that Matt ever did. He could count on a single hand how many guys he had slept with in the past, and he could explain how each one of them had eventually ended up breaking his heart.
Jay stirred as Matt made an attempt to get out of bed. “Morning,” he called out. “What a wild night, huh?”
Matt smiled. “Pretty wild, yeah!” he nodded.
“Did I do it okay?” Jay asked sweetly. “I’ve never tried to give a blow job before.”
“You did great!” Matt nodded. “Amazing, in fact,” he added, remembering how quickly they had both climaxed last night. He’d worked on Jay first and then the sweet guy worked his mouth on Matt until he came in less than a minute.
“Could you go and get me my shake out of the refrigerator?” Jay asked next, sitting up. “I forgot to have my last one when we got back yesterday, so I’ll have to make up for it this morning. In fact, bring me two,” he reconsidered. “I’ll get it down now.”
Matt hesitated for a moment. He knew that, officially, as Jay’s trainer, he wasn't supposed to approve of these shakes. Still, he was in Jay’s apartment, having just spent the night, so he could hardly start lecturing him now.
Still in a state of undress, Matt slipped out of the room and tiptoed over the mess that was littering the living space. He opened the fridge and felt a pang of arousal as he remembered just how many Jay had prepared for himself.
“Thanks,” Jay smiled, getting back from the bathroom as Matt returned. “I can still feel that burger from last night,” he chuckled, rubbing the shelf of stomach fat, before taking a deep deep breath chugging one of the shakes.
Matt’s penis, which hadn’t been flaccid since the moment he woke up next to Jay, began to pump itself harder upon watching Jay drink. He found it embarrassing how quickly his arousal responded to stuff like this and he moved his hand to cover it up; not wanting Jay to see and realise what a freak he was. However, as he looked at the bedsheets, he could see that the same thing was happening to Jay as well, with his own hardness pushing the material upwards, throbbing up and down like a heartbeat.
Taking himself off to the bathroom, Matt calmed himself down. He was so into Jay, he couldn’t ruin it, like last time. When he returned, both shakes were emptied and Jay was up, checking his body out in the mirror; that old jock physique of his destroyed and replaced with the chubby, overfed form there was today. Gone was the youthful pertness of his glutes, now so wide and juicy. All the added fat had swollen his chest up so considerably, with his new, pointed nipples looking alert and sharp as they started to droop a little onto the broad, shockingly ball-like stomach that completely dominated the boy’s appearance.
Matt went over and kissed the chub sweetly, hoping that Jay wouldn’t feel differently now the morning had arrived. Afterwards, he took the guy’s hand and then gently led him back to bed; making love to him slowly and passionately this time; wanting to show Jay just how much he could adore and cherish him, if he would only give him the chance.
When Jay turned up for their training session the next day, there was an air of mischief about him. The pair of them were chuckling and smiling, knowing exactly what they had got up to at the weekend and excited to be in each other’s company again. Now when Matt had to touch him, supporting his arms in a certain way, or correcting his posture, it sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. If he tried to get tough with Jay to get him to build up a sweat, the guy would come back with something flirtatious or rude, making Matt laugh.
“What time do you finish tonight?” Jay asked after a particularly arousing session where Jay had actually done very little indeed.
“Ten,” Matt replied, wincing at how late it was going to be.
“That’s okay,” Jay smiled excitedly. “Want to stay over again?”
Matt looked around, trying to hold himself back from wanting to kiss Jay right there and then; the cutest, chubbiest guy currently at the gym that moment. He knew how unprofessional it was to be dating his client. In some ways, it was like playing with fire; both terrifying and thrilling. “Want me to bring anything over?” he asked politely, knowing how low Jay was getting on supplies like lubricant and condoms after the weekend.
“You could pick me up some doughnuts,” Jay happily agreed.
“Oh, right. Okay,” Matt mumbled in surprise. That hadn’t been what he had meant at all. “Any particular kind?” he offered, not wanting to spoil the mood by declining.
“Just the twelve pack that you can get at the late night convenience place at the end of my street,” Jay answered him, clearly wanting to kiss him goodbye, but knowing that he couldn’t here.
Slapping the twelve pack of doughnuts on the counter a while later, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Here he was getting a spark of arousal at buying all this sugar and fat for his chubby lover. What would people say if they knew? He strolled over to Jay’s place and was buzzed in, finding the apartment door open as he made it up the stairs.
Seeing his chubby boy sprawled out on the couch, Matt took off his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind him before he marched straight over to kiss his new lover. Still dressed in his gym clothes, Jay’s stomach was falling out of his t-shirt as he twisted his head for the kiss. Two more empty flasks of shake sat on the floor beside the couch, alongside another pizza box that Jay must have picked up right after his workout.
Matt had slipped his hand onto Jay’s tummy as he went back for another kiss. How could he tell him off for his bad diet when he looked so adorable right now?
“Did you get my doughnuts?” Jay asked.
Matt nodded, getting up to collect them and feeling surprised at how eagerly Jay took them from him.
“Amazing! You got the cream filled ones!” Jay cheered, ripping the box open and pushing a doughnut straight in his mouth.
Matt hadn’t realised that there were different types, having just bought the first pack he’d found in the store, but he was pleased that it was giving Jay so much pleasure. He gazed with adoration as he ate, feeling himself falling hard for the guy. He sat there, on the floor, below the couch, rubbing Jay’s leg, observing it all. Doughnut number 5, 6 and 7 disappeared. Afterwards, Matt slipped in beside him, kissing his head from behind and holding the overfed boy tenderly. Whilst he couldn’t wait to sleep with Jay again, these tender moments were something he never wanted to rush.
“Did anyone notice that we were flirting at the gym? Jay asked as they lay tenderly together later on. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“That’s not something I want you to worry about,” Matt whispered into his ear. “I can handle any fallout if it comes to that.”
“I’ve actually wanted to quit weight training for quite some time. I just didn’t know how to tell you properly. Then our little relationship wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”
“So, we’re in a relationship, huh?” Matt teased, beaming with pride and hugging his boyfriend tightly from behind. “I don’t want you to give it up just for me, though,” he added regretfully.
“You’re the only reason I stuck it out so long,” Jay chuckled. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot more of a buzz out of developing my mass in ways that aren’t strength training related.”
Matt lifted his head as he lay in bed and looked down at the fat filled stomach on Jay; his hardness immediately throbbed into the guy’s doughy glutes. He wished he could control it; still wanting to conceal the fact that he found the idea of Jay becoming even more overweight so wildly erotic. He realised that as much as he would try to reason with Jay about his overeating and general laziness, his dick would always be there, trying to undermine his words of caution.
Although Jay didn’t acknowledge it with his words, he reached across for yet another doughnut, even though he had previously said he was stuffed. Was that for Matt’s benefit? Was he doing it to turn him on? Perhaps it was yet another unintended error of Matt’s that was dragging Jay even further down this crazy rabbit hole.
Jay’s gains began to speed up quite dramatically within the first six months of their relationship; Matt’s guilt increasing with every pound. There were times when he should have stepped in to stop Jay pushing his appetite too hard. When he discovered Jay buying in clothes for himself that were far too large, he could have asked why. He knew so much about nutrition and what it all was doing to Jay’s body, bloating it more and more beyond recognition. He’d crossed 300lbs. That should have been a moment for them both to take stock and reevaluate things; but the arousal of it all; the way Jay seemed to not care in the slightest about how people were seeing him these days; that confidence; the love that Matt felt for him. It all culminated to ensure the personal trainer kept quiet and allowed it to continue.
Jay’s body was stunning. There wasn’t a single spot where the fat hadn’t done its work, softening and swelling him up. With the lack of weight training, Jay’s chest had succumbed to the blubber, now filling up under his armpits and inflating his arms. All the while, his gut and wide butt quietly continued to grow ever more; becoming more extreme with each passing day.
Matt couldn’t say not to Jay on his birthday. He’d asked him again and again what he wanted to do for it: a day trip, a weekend hotel stay, any gift he wanted. But all Jay had insisted on was a take-out meal in front of the TV.
“This ice cream is definitely the best,” Jay smiled, scooping out from the tub with his spoon. “I can’t believe you found some!”
“Well, you’re worth it,” Matt smiled. “I even found some of those special flavour doughnuts that you tried a few months ago. So you’ve got something to enjoy tomorrow as well.”
“Tomorrow?” Jay chuckled sceptically. “I’ll be having those bad boys tonight! It is my birthday after all!”
Matt laughed and nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.
“In fact,” Jay continued. “I’d like you to be the one to feed them to me.”
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Matt pretended to spill his glass of water and made a fuss, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.
“Why do you always do that?” Jay asked, obviously downbeat. “You’ve got to know that I love the idea of you feeding me. We both clearly get off on how fat I’m getting. Everyone thinks you’re a feeder now. They saw you with your ex; they’ve seen me getting over 350lbs. You’ve heard them whispering it behind your back. So why won’t you ever feed me?”
Matt tried to brush the comments off. It wasn’t the right time; not on Jay’s birthday. However, his refusal to answer only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” he finally surrendered. “I’m not being coy,” he admitted. “I… I just…” he stumbled. “It was when I was dating Chris.”
“The four hundred pound guy you were with before me?” Jay asked, with only a mild hint of jealousy.
“Chris and I didn’t meet at a club like I told everyone. We actually met on a kink website for feeders and gainers.”
“How did I not know this?” Jay laughed, realising that his shy boyfriend had been holding out on him the entire time. “So you used to feed Chris to make him gain weight?”
Matt nodded. “It was great. It felt amazing. I fell ridiculously in love with the guy. He put on about 40lbs in the time we were together.”
“You dark horse!” Jay joked, barely containing his delight.
“But it just wrecked things in the end. We both wanted him bigger and fatter. We spoke about it endlessly. But when Chris was in a mood with me for something, he used to blame only me for making him fat. He said it was all my fault he was so unhappy. I spent so much of my time trying to make him smile and the second something pissed him off, he’d throw it all back in my face.”
“That’s not very nice,” Jay agreed, pleased to finally learn how Matt’s previous relationship had ended.
“Then there was one day when Chris’ car broke down. He came over in such a bad mood and started taking it all out on me. He ended up getting drunk and heading out with his friends. He made out to them all that I was fattening him secretly. He even messaged my parents to say the same thing.”
“Shit!” Jay cringed for him, now realising why Matt’s parents had never been especially warm with him.
“Chris apologised, of course. But it was too late. Fake news like that travels like wildfire. Even though I knew I was always going to be attracted to bigger guys, I always promised myself, I wouldn’t ever get caught up in a situation like that again. Not if it risked making someone as special as you so unhappy.”
Jay nodded, completely understanding. “It makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “But you’re not to blame for how I’m turning out. I’m not Chris, and I never have been.”
“I get that, but..” Matt tried to counter.
“No, I mean it. I’ve wanted to be a fat boy for as long as I can remember. I felt so ashamed about it. I thought a muscle gain might quench that thirst, but it didn’t. There is no part of me that is doing this just for your pleasure,” he stated sincerely. “So stop with the guilt.”
Matt nodded, feeling that he had been thoroughly put in his place. This wasn’t all about him. This was Jay’s journey.
“But I think you also know how huge I want to get. I know you’ve spotted some of the clothes I’ve been buying recently,” Jay smiled.
“Yeah, those sweatpants you bought the other day…” Matt nodded knowingly. “They were something else!”
Jay beamed with pride. “Aren’t they just!” he chuckled. “So why don’t you tell me, seriously,” he insisted. “How do you really feel about me getting so fat that I could actually wear pants like that?”
Matt considered his answer, knowing how upfront and honest they were both trying to be that evening. “Excited,” he replied simply. “Really turned on by it.”
“So, would you be willing to help me with getting there?” Jay asked.
Matt knew what Jay was asking of him and he sighed at the hard choice he was having to make. “I really want to,” he admitted, rubbing Jay’s rounded gut and admiring the tight softness. “It’s been so difficult trying to hold myself back sometimes.”
“Then stop,” Jay shrugged. “You know that I’m doing this, with or without your help.”
The two men looked at each other with true honesty in their eyes. “Okay,” Matt smiled at last. “Okay, I’ll.. try.”
Jay beamed brightly and slouched his fat body into the tortured couch, placing his limp hands at his side and opening his mouth, waiting. “No time like the present. It is my birthday, after all!”
Matt, who had not been anticipating such an immediate start, fumbled slightly, not knowing what to do as he picked up a doughnut from the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked nervously.
Jay nodded, raising his eyebrows with excitement, but did not close his mouth as the doughnut was dangled so wonderfully close to his face.
With the doughnut in his hand, Matt pressed it into Jay’s greedy mouth. The boy moaned in appreciation and took as large a bite as he could. The sound was instantly arousing. Already he felt the sugar uncomfortably sticking to his fingers. By the time the third bite came along, he knew the remaining piece was too big, but pushed it into Jay’s mouth anyway; making the fat boy’s cheeks swell with fattening dough and sugar. Yet, still the glutton gorged, sucking the sugar off Matt’s fingers as soon as he possibly could. This was hot!
Jay’s hand reached towards the hunk’s crotch, feeling the arousal his part in the feeding had given him. Then he smirked gleefully. There was no hiding anything now as they both undressed entirely. “Feed me another,” he demanded.
Matt did as he was told, picking up more confidence with each fresh doughnut he pushed into the horny boy’s mouth. Seeing sugar glistening on the glutton’s cheeks, the arousal in his eyes; the pleasure he took from drawing this side of Matt out.
“Am I a good piggy?” Jay asked teasingly,sucking on Matt’s hardness as the doughnuts were all finished at last.
Moaning softly, feeling his dick getting sticky from the fat guy’s sugary saliva, Matt nodded in agreement. Had Jay really just referred to himself as a ‘piggy’?
“Say it then,” Jay demanded, letting his hand take over for the few seconds he needed his mouth to talk. “Tell me what a good, fattening pig I am.”
Matt’s brain was foggy with lust. He could tell that Jay was already holding back, not allowing him to climax just yet. “You’re a good piggy,” he heard himself saying, worrying that he could ejaculate the moment he felt the words leaving his mouth. “And I do want you get fatter,” he admitted. “I always have.”
“Prove it then,” Jay suddenly demanded, slipping his mouth and hands away from Matt’s hardness; cutting him off in an instant.
“How?” Matt asked, having been so close to finishing before this abrupt stop.
“The refrigerator,” Jay simply replied; smirking in triumph.
Matt knew in an instant what he needed to do. He headed straight over and collected Jay’s calorie shake from the cool refrigerator and held it in his hands, about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite after everything he had said about these things.
“What do you want me to do?” asked a super horny birthday boy, laying back again and letting the fat splay into the seat once more.
“I want you to drink it,” Matt replied, already unscrewing the lid.
“What’s it going to do to me?” Jay whispered next, savouring the kinky moment between them both.
“It’s going to make you fatter,” Matt smiled back, so happy to be drawn into the game; so happy that he was doing this at last.
Matt stepped closer to the fat boy and then sat beside him, using his free hand to jiggle the immense softness that had enveloped Jay’s torso, whilst kissing him deeply. Then, just as Jay was really getting into it, he lifted his free hand up and gently rocked the boy’s head backwards so that his mouth pointed towards the ceiling, in position for the pouring.
“Are you ready, Piggy?” Matt asked, finally unleashing his true self. “It’s time to grow for me…”
Jay’s eyes were dancing with excitement as they drifted from his feeder’s gaze and up towards the ominously held jug of calorie shake looming above his head. Then, just like that, his mouth opened wider than Matt had ever seen it go before.
Matt couldn’t put his finger on when exactly he came, but he knew he hadn’t been done pouring. His fat boy had slipped his pudgy, sweaty hand onto his hardness and tugged at it; pushed it right into his giant, jiggling stomach, until Matt could stand it no longer. His orgasm had been years in the making and he moaned louder than any of his former lovers had ever heard him.
A new beast had just been unleashed.
#gainer fiction#gay feedee#gainerstory#gayfeedee#gainerstories#gainer fic#gainerfic#gayfeeder#gainer story#gainer stories
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Falling In Love With Megumi Fushiguro
FEATURING Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
SUMMARY Some Megumi x reader headcanons requested by the lovely @plasmasimagination
CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of sex, CHARACTER IS AGED UP, not edited (like at all), good luck!
AUTHORS NOTE: please remember that these are my own headcannons, you do not have to agree with them in any way, shape, or form, but you do have control over your response. Friendly debates and constructive criticism is welcome, hate and rude comments are not, thank you and enjoy! <3
Our little gumi (>.<) is more of a reserved, quiet character, and I feel like this would transfer into a romantic relationship as well.
It would take him a long time to trust you, and we all know he has HELLA abandonment issues, so you better be prepared to reassure your broody monster.
Megumi is definitely the type of boyfriend who shows his love for you in subtle ways, like lingering glances or small gestures. And the two of you definitely have a whole other language on lock through hand squeezes and weighted looks.
He is the kind of guy to lean more toward acts of service for his love language, like making sure you got home safe or remembering your favorite things without asking.
And I also think he would lean more toward a homebody S/O, he is just a little guy who wants to come home after a long day, cuddle up on the couch, and read a book in silence while simply enjoying the space together.
Megumi Fushiguro has TRUST ISSUES, he went into a relationship with you having one foot out the door already. What did him in was your fierce protectiveness over him.
He had never been more in love than when you got in Gojo's face and chastised the older man for invading his space while he was trying to breathe through a panic attack.
Because he has trust issues, it's really hard for you to get any information out of him at first, that man is a brick fucking wall when he wants to be.
and even when he does let down his guard, he might not be the most eloquent in expressing his feelings. He tends to bottle up his emotions but appreciates how patient and understanding you are with him.
Though he’s generally calm, Megumi can feel a bit jealous when someone gets too close to you, though he tries to hide it. His jealousy isn’t loud or aggressive but more of a quiet sulk until you reassure him.
REPEAT AFTER ME, HE IS A POUTER!!!
Like, this man will sit down with a HUFF, lips jutted out and arms crossed tightly over his chest like a toddler being told no.
He only stops when you sit in his lap and drown his face in kisses :)
He’s not one to give verbal compliments often, but when he does, they carry a lot of weight. A simple, “You did great,” means everything coming from him.
Rather than grand romantic gestures, Megumi shows his love through practical means—like ensuring you eat properly, bringing you water during long study sessions, or patching up any wounds you might have from training.
I know there are people who believe he would act inconvenienced (much like his father) at the opportunity to take care of another person, but I believe that it helps Megumi feel more secure in your relationship. He's someone who needs to feel needed, who enjoys having a purpose, and if taking care of you is that purpose, you won't catch a single complaint about it from him.
Although he’s serious most of the time, there are rare moments where Megumi shows a more playful side, especially when he’s comfortable around you. He might tease you lightly, smirk when you’re being sassy, or ruffle your hair just to see your reaction.
He especially loves when he's playing video games with Yuuji and you overhear his friend make a snarky comment about something you did in training and the two of you start going at it over the mic like a couple of siblings.
Megumi loves that your close with his friends.
Once he’s committed, Megumi is deeply loyal. He’s not the type to leave your side easily, and you can rely on him no matter what. Even when things get difficult, he’ll stick with you, quietly supporting you through thick and thin.
Despite his cool exterior, Megumi can be a bit shy in bed, especially in the early stages of your relationship. Compliments or bold expressions of affection might fluster him, though he tries to hide it.
He also isn’t loud or vocal, but his breathing and the way he touches you speak volumes. He may let out soft sighs or low groans, but it’s the intensity in his eyes and the way his body moves with yours that communicates his desire.
Ass guy? Nah, he's an eye guy FOR SURE
During intimate moments, Megumi’s gaze rarely leaves you. He locks eyes with you as if grounding himself in the connection you share. That eye contact is intense (I'm talking the weight of a thousand suns) but comforting, as if he’s saying everything he struggles to voice.
#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi fushiguro#itadori#yuji itadori#yuuji#gumi megpoid#fushiguro megumi#jjk fanart#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen fanart#gege akutami#jujutsu kaisen
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BABY’S FIRST WORDS
〔 a fluff piece brought to you by yours truly. domesticity at its finest, featuring the rarity of simon joking and we even observe a rare laugh from him. not without his usual cluelessness and blunt nature though. king! 〕
˗ˏˋ i honestly love him just existing as a dad. learn as you go type stuff, his daughter latching onto him when he wanted it least must’ve done him good. our emotionally stunted husband — someone give this man a hug and tell him he’s alr.
⇀ 1k | no warnings
dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info | taglist
Of course. Of course it had happened the only ten minutes of the day you had left her — barely managing one foot in the shower before Simon had opened the door with your daughter in his hands. Not arms, but hands. “She spoke.” He provided lamely, holding her out to you as if she contained a transferable illness.
You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your dry body before taking her from him, the smile she made was adoring. “She what.” Brows pung upward, your brief frown at his interruption loosening into a warmth while peppering kisses all across her cheeks. “She—“
“She said my name.”
“She said Simon?” You retorted and he scoffed, taking a step backward to the door, forearm leant on the threshold. “Dad?” She reached for your hair, small fingers pulling on it with a smile when you had begun bouncing her from side to side.
Simon shifted. “Bit like,” His words were lost for a baby laugh, one that echoed against the bathroom walls. Your hand was against your mouth in milliseconds, finding obvious tears welling in your eyes.
“What the fuck.” You mouthed, smoothing the hair on her head and Simon raised his brows in acknowledgment of your reaction, the faintest of smiles tugging at the side of his lip. “Sorry, what did she say?” You let a breathy laugh go, one that emphasised your emotionality.
His eyes switched between you and his daughter, leaning his full weight against the door now. “Da.”
You tilted your head at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel whole?” The baby in your arms began flailing her arms in your hold, reaching for her father as if on cue.
Simon shrugged, pushing off from the door to close the distance between you and allowing her to poke at his tattoo. “Didn’t think much of it.” He admitted, his eyes landing on yours that had narrowed ever so slightly with an understanding nod.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” He bit at the skin on his top lip, acutely aware of the flaring of your nostrils. A list of potential worries flurrying your mind, ones you would all deem as irrational though Simon probably wouldn’t. It was valid to worry about his reactions.
His immediate reaction to your daughters first laugh was, “Oh, shit.” The noise being between a baby coo and giggle combined into something that would’ve burst your chest yet only poked at his. He held her outward, stretched forearms while her small feet kicked in the air.
Then came her first word, one of demand, a strong “Da!” One Simon had told himself meant dad, though it was more likely a protesting noise to be put down. Whatever the noise meant, he granted her outstretched hands, placing her back down onto his knee and bouncing it up and down gently.
By no means did Simon Riley know what to do with a baby, he was still learning, very slowly — but surely. “What was that?” He mumbled at her, his eyes boring into hers as if she were an adult who could understand his demanding stare. “Tell dad, eh? Say it again.”
To clarify the noise wasn’t made in anger.
Instead, she grabbed at his shoulder, bunching up the material of his shirt loosely. “Or that.” He muttered, diverting his attention along with her own to Blue Planet that had been on pause for ten minutes since you had left.
He tapped his fingers in quick succession of the one before, the sofa armrest now becoming a point of interest for the baby who had watched his hand move. Though, right before she could hike off his thigh, he had then decided to take her through to you. You know, just to let you know your daughter had just spoken her first word (noise) alongside a laugh.
“Did she say anything else?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen to his forehead only for it to drop back down.
“Yeah.” He said bluntly, taking her from your hold and looking down to her. “Quantum physics,”
A pause for your sigh. “Explained it all.”
You nudged his shoulder, turning to check the shower temperature. “Go put her down. She’s due a sleep.” Your back was to the man, though his expression was easily imagined. “No, I can’t do it.”
Oftentimes, Simon zoned out when doing anything with the baby. It was something he took through future years too, future kids and all ages, arguments at breakfast? Zoned out. Walking with him? Not there. Even talking to him? Meh.
He put the baby down in a trance, standing over the cot silently praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would continue her peace. That no cries would break and his headache would remain in its rest, taking slow steps backward when she had shut her eyes.
“Can't believe she spoke to you.” You had said later that night, leant against a barstool watching Simon cut up an onion in that one way you just couldn’t master. “And not me, that is.”
“I have a charm.” He pointed the knife on its end, spinning it on the cutting board before eyeing you. “Obviously.”
“A silent-threatening-mediocre type of charm.”
He shrugged, sliding the annoyingly perfect dicing into a pan. “First laugh too.” It was a mumble designed to entice a reaction, and that it did, your arm barging against his after hearing your baby cry on cue.
“I’ll get something from her yet.” You picked up washing from the bottom stair, beginning up the stairs to go and pacify.
“Only got the rest of your life!” He shouted for you to hear, gaining an earnest roll of your eyes.
“I prefer you when you’re quiet.” You spoke aloud, just enough to gain a laugh from him, one you imagined he had let go without permission while aggressively preparing another onion.
simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123
unedited as usual. gonna go over my dad!simon masterlist this week. reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!
#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod mw fanfiction#simon riley#ghost mw2#cod mw2 x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley fanfic#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost x you#ghost x you#ghost x f!reader#ghost x female reader#dad!simon
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steve request🩷🩷
soo reader is drunk and at a party. maybe someone at the party calls steve who is her bestie to come pick her up. he’s out with eddie, robin and nancy at the time and they go and pick her up. because she’s drunk she’s so clingy with steve and doesnt want to be away from him and the rest of the gang make fun of him for it. he loves it really tho🩷
Ty for the request, lovely💕! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, use of pet names, mentions of parties, drinking, getting left alone by friends at a party, (0.6k)
Steve finds you sitting with your head down on the stairs of the house. The closer he gets to you, the louder the music is and he winces as he remembers how he used live for these kind of parties.
Now looking at you, he can only think of it as something he hates. Sure, the dancing, the drinks are fun, but getting left alone by friends isn't. Steve can't even count, how many times he was left alone at some party. It's too many.
He hates that your friends left you alone, but he's glad you called him, because he can now make sure you're gonna be okay.
He approaches you carefully, so he doesn't scare you, "Hi, sweetheart."
You immediately cheer up, lifting your head up quickly. You smile big at him and basically throw yourself around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.
"Woah, woah, I'm happy to see you, too," Steve chuckles and hugs you back.
"Stevie, what are you doing here?" you ask happily. You called Steve to pick you up, which you clearly don't remember anymore.
"I came to take you home," he tells you amused, "c'mon let's get you moving."
Steve stands both of you up and you don't let go off of him, even as he starts to walk you to the car. And he's okay with that, he doesn't mind, that you've leaned with almost your entire weight against him.
What gets him a little flustered are your words. You start whispering all kind of nice words, compliments to him, that he's sure, you would be too shy to say sober.
By the time, you get to the car, Steve's cheeks are burning. He curses under his breath, because he knows, he's going to be teased even before he steps a foot into the car.
And he's right. Straight away Eddie, Robin and Nancy grin at him. You notice the three of them and smile drunkenly at them.
"Hi guys, you came, too?" you ask as you plop yourself without a care in the world next to Robin sitting in the back seat.
"Hi babe, " Robin greets you, while Steve squeezes in the seat next to you.
Your attention immediately goes from Robin back to Steve. You slide closer to him, as close as you can and you almost end up sitting in his lap. They all laugh at that.
"I missed you, Stevie, " you whisper, or more like you tell him very loudly, so the whole car hears it. Steve chuckles, because you were together few hours ago.
"I missed you, too." Steve tells you and puts one arm around you. You snuggle impossibly closer to him.
"I didn't sign up for this cuddle session, when I agreed to drive," Eddie mutters from the front of the car.
"Sorry, Eds. Did you want a hug, too?" you ask innocently.
"No, no, it's okay, you just keep hugging Steve. Lord knows how much he loves it," Eddie teases Steve again and Steve just glares at him. But it's true. He loves being close to you, maybe it's because he loves you. And maybe he'd get to hold you close more often, if he had the guts to confess his feelings to you.
"I love it, too, Stevie," you state and hide your face into Steve's front. It takes you only a few minutes to fall asleep, completely at ease in Steve's arms.
Steve can only smile and hold you tightly, as the blush comes back to his cheeks. He ignores the teasing smirks and looks from everybody.
Steve will survive the teasing, if it means he gets to hold you close. Anytime.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington
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A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader
Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.
A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.
I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)
2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)
Not proofread
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun
“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.
“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.
He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.
The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.
You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.
As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.
“Say bye dada” you tell V
“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch
Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.
╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮
Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.
Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.
“Hey.”
She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.
“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.
Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.
“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.
“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.
Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”
Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”
Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”
Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.
But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.
In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.
“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”
Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.
They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”
Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.
Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”
“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”
Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.
Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.
╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮
You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.
Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”
Startled, you ask, “What?”
“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”
“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”
“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.
“Of course, yes.”
Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.
“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.
Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.
“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.
“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”
“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.
“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”
Taglist-
@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals
#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x pogue#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#obx x reader#rafe x maybank#rafe x y/n
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Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?
Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done
thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve
cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress
Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.
He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin.
"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly.
You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had.
"Steve," he corrects.
"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?"
"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more."
"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress."
"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?"
"It wasn't gross," you say softly.
"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring."
You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it."
"You're too mean to yourself," he says.
Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble.
It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches.
Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again.
"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches."
Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency.
"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?"
"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake."
"Did someone say that to you?"
"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.
He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week.
You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists.
To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does.
"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?"
"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.
"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock.
"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask.
"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?"
Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.
There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met.
"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile.
"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional."
"And you as mandatory?"
"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."
You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife.
"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages."
He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.
—
if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing
#prince!steve au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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