#up to you and whatever you're comfortable with; though

[pythonmoth]

cw: anxiety. post-traumatic stress disorder (torture). reader is traumatized. reader is a bit unreliable. military inaccuracies. hurt/comfort (I guess?).

simon riley x f!reader. implied simon riley x soap. implied simon riley x f!reader x soap.

First | Last | Next

Being home is incredibly boring, especially if you can't move much.

Your brother's been taking care of you, making sure you're eating, that you let your injuries breathe, and soon enough, the cuts on your feet allow you to move around on your own. It takes a whole month for your brother to leave you alone for longer than a few hours. It's a good thing, really, because if you want to spend hours just laying in your bed and crying in silence as you stare at the ceiling, you can. He would only come whenever you needed a ride, anyway.

Despite being able to move around and now even managing to use your sensitive fingers, you dread the idea of going outside. You have to wear sandals and loose pants, because your toes cannot, by any means, be touched by any kind of fabric yet, or else you're grimacing in pain. Feeling defenseless hasn't been a thing ever since you became part of the team. Not even your skills could take down Simon, but you could put up a fight with them all, easily; never won, but you were confident with anyone else on the street.

No doubt you could still beat them up, your skills are still there, but the idea of someone somehow restricting your movements felt like torture all over again. The idea of anyone getting a hold of you makes you want to throw up. Your mind and body betray you, making you remember those awful moments, and you don't realize you're pulling a face.

"You're spacing out".

You look up at the therapist, giving her a little nod as an apology, getting comfortable on the seat. Restless, you can't help but look around for a moment again. The office is incredibly white, clean, filled with mirrors for whatever fucked up reason, and the only thing that isn't grey or white is one of the cushions on the couch on the other side of the room. It's deep purple. It looks awful.

Seemingly realizing you won't be of much help with the question she just asked you, she gives you a smile. "How are your nails? I can see you're using your hands a lot more".

"They're healing" you reply, looking down at your fingers instead of focusing on the cushion. "I can use my hands pretty normally now, but I can't use the stove for long".

"Because of the heat". An affirmation. You've already mention it before, and you're not surprised she remembers that. Probably read it on her notes.

"It hurts, yeah".

"And how are your feet?" she asks, looking down at the way you absentmindedly drag your hands on your pants from your thighs to your calves in slow movements. You only realize what you're doing because you can hear the way her pen drags across the paper, distracting you.

"Well... I can only wear sandals. Doctor said I should be okay to move around with real shoes in three months".

"And what do you think?"

"He's the doctor. I want to believe he knows what he's doing, so I can't really question it. I do hope it heals sooner, though".

The therapist writes down on her notebook. With an uncomfortable feeling, you desperately want to know what she's writing, your eyes drifting to the movement of the pen, but you can't make out a single letter.

"So you trust the doctor, right?" she questions, moving one of her erasers to the other side of her desk. Your eyes are fixed entirely on it, on the little thud the eraser makes when she sets it down.

"He knows best, that's for sure. If he's there, must be a reason" you answer, tilting your head as she keeps moving her things around, making them fit somewhere else on her desk. The pencil goes to the left, then to the right, the eraser from top to bottom of the notebook, as if she's as antsy as you are.

"Do you apply that thought somewhere else? Like... at work? Or if you need help at a store and find an employee, maybe?"

The therapist's eyes are on you all the time, your hands, your anxious feet; your little habits coming to light with a single look. The way you bite the inside of your lower lip, the little double blink you make when she moves something in her desk yet again, even if you don't say anything.

"Of course. If they know their way around, it's only right that I ask for help, and trust that" you answer, frowning. You don't think that question is relevant at all, but she keeps writing, and writing.

"I see. Thank you. Now, you mentioned you've been texting G- Simon. Can you tell me how it makes you feel?"

You go silent for a moment, your fingertips dragging across your arm, so softly you can barely feel it. "It's better now".

During the first three months of being home, Simon would text you nearly every single day. He didn't expect a text back and you knew that, because you told him you wouldn't promise to be responsive. Simon would send you pictures of their plain meals, of Gaz sleeping on your bed, Johnny posing next to Price with their thumbs up, or terrible selfies of himself. Always without a mask.

Tuesday

11:27

"Price scolded Johnny because he had crumbs on his uniform. It was hilarious"

Saturday

03:26

"Just got back. Everyone ok"

Even Johnny would text you from time to time. It was mostly memes, awful stickers or ridiculous, random photos of Gaz mid talking, his face weird, or Price smacking Simon's head, or the entire team posing for a picture, Gaz' arm hovering to the side as if to hug your shoulders. You didn't even need to wonder why Gaz hadn't texted you; that man hated technology with a passion.

Still, you never texted back.

You didn't really pay attention to the texts, or the little voice notes, or the selfies. You didn't feel like reading them properly, always leaving them on seen or just grunting to yourself whenever you heard their distinctive tone. Why you didn't change it in the past few months, you don't know. Maybe that's a question for your therapist.

But then, the texts stop.

Monday

16:49

"Tough job"

"We leave at midnight"

23:42

"Text you when we're back"

Only, Simon doesn't text back. For days. For weeks.

You can't pretend you're not worried. It's impossible, really. You're half-tempted to call him, but you can't, you don't know how it will feel to hear his voice again. He said he'd text you and he hasn't, so he isn't back yet, and you don't want to feel vulnerable by opening up. Yet.

You go through Simon's chat, actually paying attention to whatever he sent you. You realize he sometimes sent you long texts, apologizing, accepting what he did, and even a few voice notes that you didn't notice before. They made your heart race as you listened.

"I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I love you, and you don't have to forgive me"

"Garrick told me to tell you that if you aren't eating he'll go and— shut the hell up, Johnny, I'm talking!"

"Tell her we'll go visit her by the end of the month".

That's Price's voice, you realize.

Feeling incredibly choked up, you check Johnny's chat next. You're expecting to find nothing but memes, as you've seen in passing, but when you see he sent you long, long texts, you finally let yourself cry properly.

He's been apologizing since the day you left, too afraid to face you but his texts are so poorly written you know he was in a rush, or crying, or both. His voice notes, however... they just make you break.

"I'm so sorry. I can't undo what we did. You don't owe me anything, I just... really hope you can at least tolerate me. If not, please know I'll always care for you. I love you. Goodnight".

Something inside of your chest eases, maybe moved to the point of forgiveness, even if just a moment. Your therapist has been helping you unveil whatever you missed during that day— during the torture. It's been a tough process, and she insisted you visited twice a week instead of once, but it helped. You could now understand.

Still, understanding the situation only makes your worry grow.

"Text you when we're back"

For two long weeks, there's nothing, from nobody. Only silence and fear. For the first time since you left, you're scared for them. Scared you'll have to open the door one day and it'll be Price, or maybe not even him, telling you the team is dead.

On the second week, your therapist says you can give them a call, or text them if it's more comfortable. When you say you can't, she advices you to write them letters.

"Tell them whatever you wish to say. If you're angry, write it. If you're worried, write it. There's no good or bad feelings, and it's only right to feel them. Write them for yourself, and then you can choose to give them to your team, or not".

And you did.

A whole notebook of messy writing, some tears staining the paper, and your hate slowly turned to understanding. Real understanding. Not forgiveness, not yet, but it's progress.

By the third week with no news, you just can't handle it anymore. You press call without a second thought and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when it rings, and rings, and rings.

Hopeless, you lay in your bed, your mind working overtime as you stare at the ceiling.

A muffled dinging sound startles you awake, shifting on the bed to find your phone because that's Simon's tone. Adjusting your vision, you realize it fell from your hands to the ground when you fell asleep. You dive for it, grimacing when your sensitive fingertips brush against the carpet, but to see his name there is enough for you to endure it.

Thursday

01:22

"Safe. Couldn't text you earlier"

01:22

"You called me. Are you hurt?"

01:22

"Safe. Call me"

"Now"

His name pops up not even a moment later, his ringtone filling your ears. When you pick up, he's barely breathing, and you wonder if you're about to be told bad news.

Simon explains they were on a very tough mission, and that that was why he couldn't text you, or communicate with you at all. You could hear him shift, move around. Restless.

They got caught in enemy territory, surviving the best they could for two weeks, Simon tells you. Johnny was shot in the leg and Gaz was the one who helped him out, since Simon was too busy dragging Price, who was bleeding out because someone decided it would be fun to put a bullet through his left shoulder.

"I wasn't any better. Dr. Wilson called me a dick, and then made me lay down because I was shaking. Ridiculous" he grunts, his voice hushed on the other side of the line. "Got shot on my side, I just didn't feel it, but I was better than the other two".

He doesn't seem to expect you to speak, huffing and shuffling. You can tell he's in the clinic room, the echo incredibly familiar by now.

Of course, he doesn't tell you that the reason why he didn't text you the whole past week, is because he's been asleep, drugged out of his mind because of the pain.

"Everyone's okay. No risk. Garrick's the only one who didn't get hurt. I think—"

"I was worried, Simon. I'm glad everyone is okay".

There's silence for a long moment. Simon takes a deep breath from the other side of the phone, sighing deeply. You could hear the smile in his tone. "I wouldn't let myself get killed, luv. I'm sorry I couldn't text you before. We're safe now".

You two spend the rest of the night on the call, with you mostly staying in silence and listening. You can't believe how scared you've been for all of them, for Simon. You know it's gonna be hard to fully forgive them, if at all, but you can't help the way your body relaxes as you hear him breathing against your ear. You can't help the way your arms curl around the pillow, seeking his warmth. As before.

The call goes on for long hours. When your soft hums as he speaks stop coming to his end, Simon goes quiet, realizing you've fallen asleep. He sighs and shifts to look at the ceiling, holding the phone against his ear. Focusing on your soft breathing, he let's himself fall asleep, the gunshot wound completely unimportant if he gets to listen to you sleeping again.

He just wishes you were there.

im so sick y'all, my head hurts, but I obviously couldn't resist! also, you guys like Marina? her new song is so good! mowgli's road's vibes.

the therapist's room I'm describing in the story is actually my therapist's old room. I hated it so BAD. the mirrors were a terrible decision. also, if you can't relate to this type of therapy, that's fine. it's just my experience.

again, styling is fully intentional. can y'all tell how our reader is feeling?~

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

(we're so many now, wow! thank you all ♡)

[miyaz6ki]

i might let you make me juno ✰

synopsis. literally the title, each are just small drabbles though :)! 1 kink i think they would have, as well as something they'd dislike(?), idrk what I'll put since I make these before I write 😭

the blade has spoken. i forgot to post yesterday :sob: rb for pt 2 ORR FOR MORE OF MY SUPER DUPER SICK CONTENT!!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette

warnings. NSFW, mdni please!! sex :pensive:, although some are fluffier than others!, lwk hatefucking in alhaitham's (academic rivals to lovers), corruption kink (capitano's), vision play w diluc (not rly my main point), cockwarming,

albedo, who already has you placed right in front of him, legs spread as he kneels before you. although he glanced at the beauty in front of him, his eyes would tell a million words, the ones he couldn't speak. in general, whatever you were into, so was he.

the alchemist, delving his tongue into real delicacy for the first time, had himself on a chokehold, every now and then gazing back up to the figure he loved the most, pleasured by what he was doing. fuck he loved you so much. the taste had him hypnotized, he could probably do this forever.

every minute that passed, he felt himself falling in love over and over again. holding your thighs closer to the sides of his face, he could feel how much pleasure he gave.

alhaitham, who has you pinned to the wall, your chest pressed up against the surface. he held both your wrists in one of his hands, and the other on the left side of your waist. rocking his hips into yours, archons he was so fucking in love with the way you clenched against his member.

as much as he hates you, or says he does, it's really the opposite. he's never met anyone who could get him as mad as he is right now, not anyone could piss him off. he loved it so damn much.

he loved watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, no one else could get him boiling, but no one could ever be this deep inside you like he does, right? he better be. or he'll spend the next nights trying to prove himself right to you. so at least for once he'll win.

capitano loved to absolutely break you. corrupt you. he wanted to make sure you were indefinitely all his. and no one else's. he loved seeing those cute little tears of yours roll down your cheeks, whining about how you can't take it when both of you know you can!

you're all his, right? hopefully, and rightfully so, because no one as big as him would ever please your little hole now. but he supposes that something should make up for the pain you feel whenever he enters, it should be the pleasure, and somewhat comfort he can attempt to give.

so he lets you pick whatever position you wanted, and honestly, his favorite while letting you choose was whatever position he could see you the most in. especially when it includes your pretty little face. he wants to see how good he makes you feel <3

he always has his hands on you it feels so dirty. but childe has no excuse for himself, his only purpose is to make sure others know how to fuck off from what's only supposed to be his, it's not your fault, nor his, but he just has the indefinite need to show you off. whether it'd be how the marks all over your collarbone would be the prettiest!

he knows it hurts, but for now, just endure it, and he'll make sure to take care of it later. he makes sure to kiss it all away anyway, no matter how deep inside he might be, you're his reason to fight, his reason to live and come back home for another day with you.

oh well, he dreams of starting a nice little family with you. coming home to you and your two.. maybe three children? you'll both figure it out later. after he finishes inside you, his rough hands, which bruised your hips with small, little crescents ingrained into your skin. oh he's already planning the names!

wriothesley is generally turned on by any position he could see you in. similarly to capitano, but the thing is... he much prefers seeing how his cock imprints itself in your stomach.

sure your expressions are pretty cute, but nothing better than seeing you throw your head back, trying to ride his big member when you know you need help from him! all you have to do is say please...

if you didn't, he'd simply watch the show. watch you trying to take him all at once, and only hurting yourself more by trying to take what you can't (without his assistance). and in which he simply.. takes control himself, and helps you slowly sink onto his shaft instead. of course whole holding your hand!

diluc who uses his vision to his advantage, his hands already over your chest, as the temperature of his palm rises slowly, while letting you cockwarm him.

whether it's while he's writing, and signing away paperwork for the wine business, and his other hand over one of your nipples, or if all his attention is focused on you, watching how you react with a VIP seat, which would be taken literally as you sat on his dick.

a teasing touch from one of his fingers would rub against the spot where his cock was snug inside you, infused with a bit of warmth with the help of his vision.

neuvillette who's instincts get to him, as he watches your reaction through the pristine, crystal mirror in front of you both. it was a gift from his daughter figure—furina.

dear archons, please do forgive him for using her gift in such a.. filthy way, but nothing gets him going like seeing you stare at yourself be pleasured so well by none other than himself. his head fitting in the crook of your neck as he only turns himself on more, only reaching even deeper with his shaft inside you.

and wow he couldn't even wait for the main course tonight, for someone who's very knowledgeable on the taste of water from every region—he much preferred whatever substances you could make.

[leclercsixteen]

𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒂 ! ᶜˡ¹⁶ ᵐᵛ¹

you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up ⋆˚࿔

𝓬harles leclerc + 𝓶ax verstappen x 𝓶ale reader synopsis: reader was the rookie in the upcoming formula 1 season. his name was in everyone’s mouth and on everyone’s social media page. but, he’s still a person who has homework, feelings, and two nonbiological older brothers—or nonbiological dads, however you want to look at it.

genre: familial, smau and irl, hurt/comfort, fluff warnings: lestappen is shipped but theyre not together, stressed reader, reader replaces liam

author's note: not intended for female readers & not written for female readers. this came to me in a dream.

masterlist. navigation.

Y/N WAS A force to be reckoned with on the track. His talented overtakes and passes on the track helped him climb up the ranks easily. He quickly made his way up to Formula 1, skipping over Formula 2, and became the youngest rookie for the upcoming season. It was no surprise that he was all everyone talked about; Red Bull dropping Liam Lawson to pick up an inexperienced rookie who was still in high school.

He was a high school student by day and a Formula 1 driver, also by day. His schedule was the definition of stressful and he had no competition for the most stressed award. Y/n took online classes seeing as there was no way for him to go to a school while flying all over the world for races. It was surprising to the drivers around him that he was able to do everything, including perform well in his car when it really mattered, and not show any signs of stress.

It was surprising to y/n too; he was covered up to his ears in stress and he felt as though he was drowning every second of the day.

liked by f1, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and others tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

youruser life recently

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userone god i really need to lock in bros life looks amazing and he's younger than me

usertwo i think we're forgetting the fact that he's a student AND formula 1 driver? like i can barely get through just school but he's a double agent liked by youruser

charles_leclerc why that picture :( ⤷ youruser my parents obviously

maxverstappen1 you couldn't've picked a picture that i took with you? ⤷ youruser of course not :)

redbullracing 🔥🔥 liked by youruser

userthree can't wait to watch you kill it this season! ⤷ userfour alr he aint that good bro ⤷ userthree he skipped f2 and red bull literally dropped liam lawson for him ??????? okay ...

charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 why are you looking at me like that ⤷ maxverstappen1 that's how i look at all of my friends ⤷ youruser you guys don't even follow each other still stop flirting in my comments

userfive red bull check on your driver challenge ⤷ usersix wdym? ⤷ userfive i saw y/n recently with max and charles and he just looked so tired and so out of it. it doesnt look like red bull is doing much to help him out with schooling and his mental health liked by youruser ⤷ usersix nah you're reaching 😭😭 ⤷ userfive y/n literally liked my comment but whatever

Y/N THOUGHT F4 and F3 were bad, but F1 was a whole different rodeo. Their schedule wasn't as hectic during F4 and F3 as it is in F1, but it was still pretty stressful having to do homework on the road when you couldn't talk to anybody about it since most of the drivers dropped out of school. F1 was worse; nobody was in school or they dropped out before they could graduate so nobody understood what he was going through, he was shipped around the world on a weekly basis, he had training day in and day out, and he had to do calculus homework in between practices.

He held his forehead in his hand as he leaned his elbow against the table in front of him. Y/n was currently looking at his math homework like it had 5 heads instead of 0 since it was a piece of paper. The eraser of his pencil tapped against the table that distracted him away from his homework momentarily. The problem he was stuck on stared back at him as he felt almost guilty for not being able to solve this problem.

"You okay?"

Max.

When it was announced that y/n would be taking Liam's spot, y/n had already met with Max multiple times. They were trying to see if the team chemistry would be there between a seasoned driver and an unseasoned one. Their relationship formed quickly as Max became an older brother figure to y/n. Max connected him to Charles, both having some idea what y/n was going through. From there, Max and Charles became y/n's mentor's in Formula 1 and helped him through everything he needed to know.

Y/n turned his head away from the worksheet and he looked over at Max, who was walking over in his race suit as he just got done with his FP2. He wore a worried look as y/n was tucked into the corner of the Red Bull hospitality with a confused and frustrated look on his face.

The rookie sighed as he dropped his pencil and hid his face in his hands. "Not really," he groaned as both his arms and head dropped onto the table; his head laying on his folded arms. "Calculus is going to be the death of me, Max. I can't do this," there was a slight waver to his voice, but he refused to cry in front of his teammate.

Max pursed his lips and sighed. He looked around the room to see if there was anything he could grab that might be of service to the young driver. When nothing came to mind, Max sat in the chair to y/n's right and he turned it so it faced y/n.

"Hey," Max said softly as he nudged y/n's knee with his own. Y/n's head rolled to the side so he could see Max's face and Max could see his. Y/n's eyes were starting to turn red, but Max paid no attention to it because he knew y/n would hate him for it. "If you need help, or a break, just ask, or talk to me or Charles. We care about you, y/n, and it sucks to see that they," he nodded over to the Red Bull team who was working on Max's car, "don't care about your mental health or school work. But, Charles and I do, okay?"

Y/n pursed his lips and nodded, blinking away tears that threatened to fall from his stinging eyes. He cleared his throat as he leaned back in his chair, his arms falling down into his lap as he looked back at the table

"Yeah. I care about you guys too," y/n started, looking down at his hands which were starting to fold his fingers together as a distraction, "but it's hard. I never liked asking for help and it's still a hard thing for me to do, even if you and Charles are trying to tell me it's okay to do so." Y/n rubbed at his nose as that too was starting to sting. He blinked away tears once more. "I just wish people understood. Fans and reporters. I feel like they only see me as the rookie that got picked up, and not as a high school student who happens to be good at racing," he looked up at Max, who was nodding along to what he was saying, paying attention to every word he said.

Max smiled sadly and nodded. "It sucks, it really does. They never understand and they don't even try to. I'm sorry about that, y/n, I really am," his eyes were wide and filled with sadness and sympathy. "They don't have to understand, though. You don't have to care about what they think, alright?" His eyes turned serious as he leaned forward and put a hand on y/n's knee. "You just need to focus on your school work and driving. Your real fans understand and they care about you too."

Y/n nodded along and he sniffed before wiping his nose on his hoodie sleeve. His FP2 was before Max's, so he slipped out of his race suit and into comfy clothes quickly so he could hide himself in the corner he and Max found themselves in now so he wouldn't be bothered.

Max's eyes narrowed at y/n before they glanced at his worksheet. "When is that due?" He asked as he pointed at the worksheet, which was halfway done.

"Um," y/n hummed as he looked over at the worksheet. He wasn't sure, so he had to double check. "One second," he said as he opened up his computer that was previously closed and shut off as he kept trying to look at the answer key. He pulled up Google Classroom and scrolled to his calculus class. He clicked his tongue a couple of times before saying, "Not until Monday." He looked back at Max, who had a smile on his face. "Why?"

"Tomorrow isn't Monday," Max smiled at y/n. They had a qualifying tomorrow, but an idea was brewing in Max's head already for tonight.

Y/n's brows furrowed, "I'm glad you know your days of the week, Max."

Max laughed. "How about we do something tonight? Invite Charles and we just go hang out around town?" He asked with a smile.

It wasn't unusual for Charles, Max, and y/n to do some adventuring in the town they end up having races in, but it was starting to get rare as y/n's midterms were sneaking up in the next month or two.

Y/n went to deny as he wanted to finish the worksheet, but Max held up a hand and leaned forward in his seat. "Don't try and get out of this because of your homework that isn't due until Monday. You're still young, y/n. You deserve to have some fun in your life, yeah?"

The younger driver scoffed a laugh as he leaned back in his seat. He shook his head, "You're unbelievable and I hate you." Max raised a brow and he held out his hands as he waited for a confirmation. "What the hell, sure," y/n shook his head as Max smiled and hit his shoulder.

"Alright!" Max smiled and stood. His hands hit his thighs as he stood. "You can stay in that if you want," he gestured towards y/n's oversized Red Bull hoodie and matching sweat-shorts, "but I'm going to take a very quick shower and change. I'll text Charles as well."

Then, Max left towards his driver room.

A smile formed on y/n's face. Even if he was close to tears just a minute ago, his eyes were dry as he packed up his calculator, pencil case, and tucked his worksheet into his math folder. It felt nice to be liked and to be needed. While he did have a loving family cheering him on from home, it was hard to be away from them during the season. It was nice to have two people who could fill in those roles while they were away.

Y/n made his way to the couch that was in the Red Bull hospitality, but not before grabbing a Red Bull from the mini fridge that was at the end of the couch. It was nearing dinner time and y/n was sure he would fall asleep on the couch he just sat on if he didn't have at least a couple of sips of Red Bull in his system.

As Max showered and changed, y/n played a mindless game on his phone that Charles downloaded a while ago after his own phone had died and was bored. Y/n remembers it vaguely; he doesn't remember where they were or what they were doing, but Charles's phone had died and he asked y/n id he had games on his phone, to which y/n responded no and Charles acted as if he killed Leo. Then, Charles said that it was his favorite game and was convinced that y/n was living under a rock because he didn't have it downloaded.

He played a couple of rounds before Max came out of his driver's room in a surprising pair of sweatpants and one of his classic Red Bull collard shirts. It wasn't common to see Max in sweatpants, he usually wore jeans with his shirts. Max typed on his phone as he walked, and he almost ran into the couch, but he stopped right in front of it before he could.

"You ready?" Max asked once he looked up from his phone. He chuckled at the sight in front of him; y/n holding his red bull can close as he was curled in on himself in the corner of the couch. His phone was close to his face as he played his game.

Y/n looked up and nodded, quickly unfurling himself. "Yep," he said, popping the 'p'. He stood from the couch and adjusted his hoodie. "Charles already outside?" y/n asked as Max started to lead the way to the door of the hospitality. He didn't get an answer from Max, but his confirmation was Charles standing in front of the door once Max opened up the door.

"Hey you two," Charles smiled at them as y/n and Max bent down to slip on the quickest shoes they could (sneakers for Max and Birkenstock clogs for y/n). Charles wore a red hoodie with a small black Ferrari horse on the heart with white sweatpants and creme Puma suede shoes. "Let's go, yeah?" He nodded his head toward the car park where all of the drivers kept their cars during race weekend.

Max and y/n stepped out of the Red Bull hospitality with smiles on their faces, happy that their trio was back together. Sometimes it's hard for the Red Bull duo to get together with Charles, seeing as their teams want to make sure their secrets aren't being shared with their opponent.

"Where are we going?" Y/n asked as the trio started to walk toward the car park; y/n was in the middle with Max to his right and Charles to his left. He looked from Max and then to Charles, both having smiles on their faces as they looked at each other past y/n's head.

"Seriously guys, where are we going?"

liked by oscarpiastri, redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and others tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

youruser had to buy a swimsuit at the store cause they didn't tell me i needed one when we left

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charles_leclerc do people not go streaking anymore? ⤷ youruser you are NASTY! NASTY i tell you

userseven did you get your homework done

usereight alright ..

maxverstappen1 at least you got a new swimsuit out of it, i just got sandy pizza ⤷ charles_leclerc that was your own fault ⤷ youruser maxverstappen1 free protein for quali!!

oscarpiastri whore behavior on main is crazy ⤷ youruser leave me and my whoreiness alone 💔

usernine i wish i had a relationship like y/n and lestappen ⤷ userten so..parents? ⤷ usernine that was unnecessary

usereleven YOU'RE GOING TO GET POLE POSITION TOMORROW Y/N I BELIEVE IN YOU!! ⤷ usertwelve nah he's washed ⤷ userthirteen it's literally his first season 😭😭??????????

lando high school senior & f1 driver by day WHORE by night ⤷ youruser what's up with the mclaren teammates calling me a whore just say you want me and move on ⤷ lando woah alright i touched a nerve there my bad

TURNS OUT WHERE they were going was a beach—actually, first a clothing store, then a pizza restaurant, and then the beach. Charles and Max only told y/n they were going to the beach after pulling out of the car park in Charles's white Ferrari, so he whined and forced them to stop at a clothing store nearby so he could run in and buy a new pair of trunks and even a cover shirt.

Y/n leaned back on the blanket that Charles pulled out of his trunk when they pulled up to the beach. His elbows and heels dig into the sand as he laid back relaxed. He watched as Max and Charles played in the water like children. They had tried to pull him to the water with them, but he just denied and wanted to stay dry. He pulled on his Red Bull sweatshirt from before as the sun was starting to set and it was starting to get windy on the beach.

He must've zoned out, because suddenly both Max and Charles were laughing right next to him and falling down onto towels that they brought. They were sighing and laughing through breaths as they sat on either side of y/n, Max to y/n right and Charles to his left like before.

"You guys have fun?" Y/n asked, a smile on his face as he looked from Max to Charles, and then back to Max, and repeated that a couple of times before he got an answer.

Charles laughed and nodded, "Yeah. It's been so long since I've had fun in the water at a beach. I usually go on my boat, but I haven't been on a beach in so long."

Silence fell onto the three as they watched the sun slowly set and listened to the crashing of the waves and the chatter of birds that were further down the shoreline.

Suddenly, after a beat of staring at y/n and questioning whether he should actually speak up or not, Max asked, "Are you okay, now?" Y/n turned to Max while Charles turned to watch y/n like Max.

Y/n took a breath and looked back out towards the water. He pursed his lips and after a beat, he nodded. "Yeah," he breathed out with a smile on his face. "Yeah, I am. Sometimes I get too caught up in my own head and I act like I never have enough time for a break, and my life is always go, go, go. While it is that way sometimes, I feel like I never ask for help, or for a break." He took a deep breath in, smelling and taking in the smell of the salt water. Y/n looked to Max and then to Charles with a smile, "Thank you guys. Really. This was really nice, and definitely needed."

Charles smiled back at y/n and he glanced to Max quickly before looking back at y/n. "We're always here for you, y/n. Whether it's for school help, driving help, mental help, or even to kill someone," they all let out a chuckle, "we're here for you, okay? You're special, y/n, and we don't want you to lose your young spark just because you're stressed, alright?"

Y/n smiled, teary-eyed. He nodded, "Alright. I love you guys."

"We love you too, but," Max stood and he bent down to pull off y/n hoodie, which went willingly as y/n rolled his eyes, "it's time to get you in the water."

"Maaaax," y/n whined, but they weren't heard as Charles laughed and joined Max in standing. He helped grab y/n and drag him towards the water. Y/n's yells were helpless as he laughed and squirmed in their grip. "I hate you guys!" Y/n yelled before he was tossed into the cold water.

He came back up with a scowl as Charles and Max laughed with each other at y/n. "I know where you sleep."

liked by youruser, maxverstappen1, f1, and others tagged: youruser, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc much needed quality time before quali 🌊❤️

view all comments

userfourteen bro theyre so cute 😭😭

userfifteen they don't want us to ship lestappen then they post pictures of them playing in the water like alright mate

youruser don't be fooled by the smile on my back, i was NOT happy ⤷ charles_leclerc i don't know i remember you telling us you loved us ⤷ maxverstappen1 you know i remember that too ⤷ youruser i told you guys i hated you actually

usersixteen the only family in formula 1

userseventeen can't decide if y/n is their kid or brother ⤷ usereighteen if we're shipping lestappen, kid. if we're not, brother.

maxverstappen1 ❤️ ⤷ charles_leclerc literally just a heart? damn what the hell ⤷ youruser my parents are fighting 💔

oscarpiastri um where was my invite????? ⤷ youruser you can come when you have a mental breakdown over homework ❤️ ⤷ oscarpiastri oh.. hope you're doing okay ⤷ youruser this made me giggle yes i am doing okay thank you oscar 😭😭

lando BAN family's from formula 1 next thing we know they're going to get 1-2-3 positions for the rest of the season ⤷ charles_leclerc no need to be salty lando nowins ⤷ lando I WILL SLASH YOUR TYRES

usernineteen im living for this family we have in f1 like y/n is literally lestappen's son

[fanged-fanfics]

Heya I saw your blog and thought your writing was amazing!!

If it’s okay with you, can we get father figure or platonic Pure vanilla being a dad! Headcanons or a scenario.

Hope you’re having a wonderful day btw!!

☆ Healer's Little Sunflower — Dad!Pure Vanilla & Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Familial, Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pure Vanilla is a gentle parent. He's never once raised his voice at you, and always prefers to talk things out. He knows children are more intelligent than they seem, and is firmly against physically reprimanding them

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He pretends to be stern at times, but only in a joking way where you two can laugh it off. That isn't to say that he's without limits though. He's a calm but fair dad, yet when it comes time to be serious, you can tell he isn't playing around anymore

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He encourages you to be safe, but knows things like little scrapes and falls are just part of growing up. If you get hurt, he's right by your side to heal you up or just hold you until you feel better

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You're mostly allowed to get some distance from him only because the eye of his staff is always keeping you in its sights. He wants you to feel free to explore, but he'll always keep an eye on you in some way to make sure you're safe

ᯓᡣ𐭩 No matter how old you get, PV will always have open arms waiting to support you if you need. You could never be 'too old' or 'too mature' for a homemade dinner and a night spent well rested in your old room

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Very, very supportive. Unless you're going down a really bad path, Pure Vanilla will be willing to help you in whatever avenue you want to take in life. What he wants the most is for you to take care of yourself, and whatever makes you happy, so be it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PV feels like he'd be the dad where he hands you old comfort items you used to treasure when you were younger cause he remembers how much you loved them, and he keeps all your childhood favorites safe

ᯓᡣ𐭩 There's never a single time where he isn't happy to see you. When you come to him for advice, solace, just a casual visit, comfort, etc. Any moment you're home is one where he feels whole again, immediately caring for you just as he always has

[southern-gothic-comic]

Page 98

Next 💜 Back 🖤 First

Patreon 💜 Art Prints 🖤Books!

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Imogen returns to her.

Imogen: It's not your fault. I know that wasn't you.

Laudna: But how can you be sure?

Imogen: 'Cause I've heard your thoughts, and there's nothin' but kindness there. So whatever malice is in you, it's gotta be comin' from someone else.

Panel 2: Closer angle on this conversation.

Imogen: I trust, you. Laudna. Her . . . I'm not too sure about, I gotta admit.

Laudna: I think she might be . . . a bit jealous, to tell the truth. Of you. It was just the two of us for so long. But please don't be afraid! I won't let her harm you again.

Imogen: That's not what scares me about her. Do you feel like you're in danger?

Panel 3: Laudna waves her hand airily, trying to brush off Imogen's concerns.

Laudna: Oh. {pff} No. It's all empty threats. She doesn't have a lot else to work with, up here. Don't worry about me.

Imogen: I do, though. I don't think she's good for you.

Laudna: Maybe not. But she's a part of me.

Panel 4: Laudna starts to get defensive.

Laudna: And if she hadn't been with me, then I really would have been alone all this time. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly welcomed in polite society, on account of all the undeath. Before I met you, no one else had even -- even spoken to me for-for-for years, Imogen. It was just me, the voice in my head, and a dead rat for company. And I love Pâté, but he isn't the greatest conversationalist.

Panel 5: Imogen looks up at her earnestly.

Imogen: But you were alone because she made you that way. And now you're not alone. I'm here with you. Whatever . . . comfort, or protection, or company you were gettin' from her . . . I can be that for you. You don't need her anymore, Laudna.

Panel 6: Laudna smiles slightly, considering this.

Imogen: I know it can mess you up, havin' someone else's thoughts in your head. Believe me, I know. But your mind is your own. Her thoughts aren't yours. And your magic isn't hers. You've had powers since you were a li'l kid, right?

Laudna: I have.

Imogen: There you go, then. You're a whole person without her.

[puppysuke]

daisuke as a dad hc!

this is very self indulgent of me i fear. i want to have kids so bad its not funny. um! anyway, my day was very shit so. i needed something to feel better and somehow daisuke as a dad is what my brain decided would be comfort. continue reading below the cut ! art by dressup4life on pinterest i think, but i am unsure! these are all sfw and NOT on tulpar. if it happens after those events or a totally different au is up to you :) all are sfw.

🌺 --- total girl dad. i said it! you cannot convince me this man is not a girl dad. like, he's good with boys too, but tooootally a girl dad. 🌺 --- dress up ! stickers ! make up ! will let his kids do whatever they want to him in that aspect. ~ "dad, dad!" daisuke turns around from what he was doing-fixing the breaks of your car-, with grease smeared on his face. he smiled and stood up, rubbing his hands on his pants to get rid of the grease. he glances at swansea who had come over to give him a hand before turning to his kid and crouching down once more to be at eye level with his kid. "what's up, kiddo? wanted to help your awesome dad and uncle swansea fix the car?" he asks, reaching forward and pinching their cheek. his kid shakes his head and pouts. "no, dad, i wanna play dress up! lets play dress up!" daisuke smiles a little before hearing swansea snicker. he looked back at swansea and shoots a short glare.

needless to say, after that interaction, he was working on the car in a halloween princess dress with horribly done makeup, getting teased and made fun of playfully the whole time by swansea. (oof that healed a little part of me...) 🌺 --- daisuke never wants to push his kids into something they don't want. assuming you want to imaging this after the events of mouthwashing, he knows what its like to be pushed into something he doesn't want. be it a job they don't want when they're older, sports, or even a meal they don't like.

🌺 --- he is so worried about not doing a good job. he really wants to be a good dad, but sometimes he gets scared he's not doing a good job. he wants nothing more than to be a good parent, but sometimes he just comes to you with stress on being a bad dad. 🌺 --- he is the good cop. actually, he's in the criminals! you tell the kids no ice cream before dinner? you find daisuke eating ice cream with the kids. you tell the kids to eat their veggies? daisuke takes a good half of the veggies for himself instead. you tell daisuke to be more firm with the kids? he tries! but simply cannot resist those big eyes looking at him like the devil on his shoulder. 🌺 --- when you get insecure over strech marks or weight gain, you don't even have to tell daisuke. he can figure it out on his own in seconds of being by you. he is quick to reassure you and make sure you know he still finds you to be attractive. 🌺 --- for my trans masc readers, he constantly reassures you as a man! to him, your gender doesn't matter, even if you gave birth to his kids, he sees you as a man. you're his husband (or boyfriend) no matter what your body does and he makes sure to teach the kids about your gender when it comes time to! 🌺 --- as soon as he has one kid, he wants another. he is practically begging to have another kid after you're recovered and you're both ready physically and mentally. if you tell him no, he won't pressure you into it, but he will be a little disappointing. he will try not to show disappointment though! he already has one little angel, he is content.

🌺 --- when you first have a baby, he is gentle as ever with you and a great help! he's very active in taking care of both the baby and you! the baby needs to be changed into a clean diaper? he's on it! you need to take a bath? he's already running the water and ready to take the baby off your hands!

🌺 --- he is PROTECTIVE. like he doesn't even let his parents hold the baby at first. he wants only you and him to hold the baby, take care of the baby and everything like that.

🌺 --- he learns to cook. look, hear me out on this. he knows you're stressed about feeding the kids good meals, not just the instant ramen and take out you two had been living on, so he learns to cook throughout your pregnancies and before the baby can eat solid food!

🌺 --- he slows down and becomes a real family man. instead of wanting to go get a drink with friends, he'd rather be playing something with the kids. instead of gaming all night with people, he spends time with you after the kids are asleep. instead of reading comics, he talks to swansea for advice about things.

🌺 --- he ADORES you to no end after you have kids. like, he thought you were the most stunning person on earth but damn. you had a certain glow about you, and he definitely appreciated the extra weight you put on! ------- if you likes this and have anything you'd like me to write from this fandom, or any other fandoms listen in my intro post, my requests are open! just ask me in my inbox and i'll write / make hc for you <3 thank you for reading!

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan idea: him being married and starting a family with his wife 😍

OMG UGH The way I'm so in love with that man

I actually have two fics related to this in my drafts! One is reading finding out she's pregnant, the other is just a peak into family life with reader and logan. it's gonna be teeth rotting fluff. I hope you'll enjoy them <3

implications of sex below the cut, also pregnancy mentions!

Marriage with Logan:

I mean not to be cheesy but...

it's bliss

you all saw him in origins with kayla (gag)

that man is a total lover boy

hes on his knees for you

he will do anything for you

He didn't think he'd get to do something like this. to experience the whole joy of getting engaged, planning a wedding, getting married

just finding his other half....He considers himself the luckiest man in the world

He takes on the role of a hubby proudly

He'll laugh and pretend the wifey and hubby mugs you got him were cliche but he uses the hubby mug every single day proudly and ignores any comments regarding it

He'll proudly introduce you as his wife (or hubby, or partner, whichever term you prefer!)

everyone sees how so in love you both are

holding hands, your arms around each other

he'll admire the ring he put on your finger all the time.

"this is a nice look for you baby"

if you going through with having a wedding wedding, logan is going to be so damn nervous

he fights all sorts of bad guys. standing in front of family and friends, being vulnerable? thats a different kind of fight

but he finds when he sees you, all prettied up walking down that aisle

well, maybe this isn't so bad

but if you end up having a something small and simple, hes just as happy

either way, he's grinning ear to ear by your side. no ones seen the wolverine happier than when he married you

theres a comfort that settles between you both after marriage. a trust that the other is going to be there. you don't have to worry about a thing with him.

If you're getting or already have your own place, your engagement/marriage kicks off nesting in him. Hes' gotta make sure that his baby is taken care of...

Speaking of babies...

Starting a family!

Oh boy

or girl?

However the conception happens, planned or accident

logan will be thrilled (after he gets over the nerves)

he'll be so supportive to you. he may take a moment and go vomit out in the bins outside but he's happy, truly

hes so supportive

i mean i talked about pregnancy headcanons before but imma go into it again

he hates seeing his love in pain, suffering, etc etc. will hold your hand the entire way.

Hold your hair back during those morning sickness events uggh

will make you tea, slice apples, whatever the hell helps you

will rub your back, feet, shoulders. whatever

he thinks your mood swings are adorable (he won't say that to your face though. he knows you'll just tear him apart)

very handsy. can't help it. you looked good pregnant w his kid

every doctor appointment. hes there.

hes strong for you, god knows you're doing the heavy lifting but he's definitely going to be anxious. worried about every little groan and huff you let out. worried about labor. your safety. the babys safety.

hes so happy to be here but he's also terrified of losing it

yes, if you wake him up at 2 in the morning, he'll go get you those weird things you're craving. he'll do it happily. no you're not bothering him.

loves when you get a burst of hormones and become feral over him. he literally wants to bang you all the time but you're pregnant and not in the mood usually

you give him small kisses at first that end up getting intense and becoming more bc you're both just so happy and your hormones is making everything so intense and he's the only thing you want and need

anyhoo...

When you're big, big, like 8-9 months. He's all over you. You could bite his head off over his clingyness but the most he's gonna do is sit across the room with his tail between his legs

his instinct screams to stay close and to protect. he's not going anywhere

designing the babies room together

SHOPPING

bad bad wolverine is holding up lil jammies with sheep on it. "This is cute" he mumbles.

you can't even bring yourself to tease him over it because he's so damn cute like this. also hes' right. those are cute jammies. put em in the cart

Logan really doesn't care about the babys sex. he's just happy to even.. have all of this. and with you.

he'd be a great boy or girl dad honestly.

they're both gonna have him wrapped around their finger

you buy a plush wolverine animal for the babys crib and logan gets emotional over it

"yknow sweetheart these things are pretty mean in real life." he says as he holds back tears. "don't know if we should..."

he's gonna go into slight shock when they baby comes. like. woah, this is happening? really? actually happening?

Of course when you start reacting to your contractions, hubby mode is going to kick in. He's all over you, talking you through everything as you go the hospital

hes scared, terrified, but hes not gonna worry about himself when you need him more than ever

WILL cry when he meets yalls baby for the first time.

Going to feel like he'd been waiting his whole life to meet them.

He's going to be an amazing dad. hes got all sorts of life experience to share with them

your kid(s) will adore their dad (and you!)

they may have their teenage phase where everyone annoys them

but Logan having memories of how his family/parents were broken apart. he doesn't want that to happen

no ones a perfect person/partner/parent. logan tries pretty damn hard

movie nights

waking up to the kids running into yalls bed

him literally trying to steal ONE private moment with you, but your child is in a "i only want this parent phase!" for one of you and won't leave you alone.

your kid(s) gagging whenever you kiss or get affectionate. it happens often.

"mom and dad are really gross"

Im gonna add adoption in here too

he's gonna be really nervous because he doesn't want to scare whoever you adopt with his mutation, and just his general self. hes big and scary.

but you meet the child you two are meant to raise and he's in love

he adores the kid just as if it was his biological because to him it doesn't matter

thats you and hims child and he's going to do his damn best to take care of you and any child you may raise together

I just love him and I want me and him to build a lil life together on a farm or a cabin and have little ones that look like him running around and just *sobs*

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

so…sub!hotch.

Whatever gender you prefer to interpret this as is totally fine but when I think of sub Aaron I think he just needs a strong, burly man he can fully *trust* to hold him down so he can let go. I think he has one of those moments where he gets smacked around a little bit and it’s this deep release, just absolutely sobbing and so desperate for comfort.

GOD YES HOLDING HIM DOWN

This post is Hotch x gender neutral!reader

*NSFW MDNI*

Holding him down plsplsplspspls I want to do that. I want to use his ties too.

I've never really thought much about smacking him around or making him cry and be desperate for comfort but this is definitely making me think about it.

He has to REALLY trust the person that he does this with though. It would take him a very long time to get comfortable with the idea of letting anyone do this to him. And I think he has to come to you about it first. Asking if you would ever want to try it, but that he was just thinking about it and that he isn't sure yet. You could definitely ask him first too, but you'd have to wait a good while before mentioning it to him because I think he'd be a little uncomfortable at first.

Once he is ready though, he tells you one night when you're both in bed together, probably watching some movie that neither of you are too interested in. And then he brings it up.

"Hey, you know how we talked about...well about you being really rough with me at some point? Well I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I think I'm ready to give it a try."

You need him to be completely sure though. So you ask him.

"Are you sure you're ready? You said you think you are. I want you to be completely certain about this, Aaron."

So he thinks for a second before nodding his head and telling you that he's definitely ready for it.

You both talk it through and talk about safe words. You explain what will happen and ask if he's comfortable with it all. You ask him what all he wants and what he is wanting to get from this experience. You both agree on what he doesn't want you to do to him. You know it could take a lot out of Aaron and you want him to be as ready and at ease as possible.

You would start slow and work him up to really getting rough. You spank him lightly a few times and gradually increase the force. I don't think he would like you using anything on him like a belt though. He likes it when you grab his jaw and force him to look at you.

I'm not sure about smacking him around a lot, I'd like to spank him a bit though so that's what I'm including here. Making him cry for release though is something I love. Maybe choking him some too 😮‍💨. But holding him down or tying him up is a favourite. He has finished more than once by the time you're done with him. He's whining and whimpering from overstimulation, begging you to give him a break but babbling about needing you to use him. If he really wanted you to stop you know he would say one of his safe words. Pinning his hands down when he tries to squirm too much or if he tries to make a move when you told him he wasn't allowed to touch you or himself.

And then how you clean him up and soothe him after everything to let him know he's safe and loved and that it's okay. He loves it when you hold him in your arms where he knows he can be vulnerable and let go. He doesn't have to worry about you really hurting him or anything. He likes feeling safe and secure with you and curling up in your arms.

Thank you for the ask!! I've never thought about something exactly like this especially not in depth but it was fun :)

[thanosscross]

My Aein - BangChan x Reader

Summary: y/n l/n was taught from a young age that you always try to be the utmost respectful person, which causes issues in your adult life of never being able to stand up for yourself, so what happens whenever a new found friend, is extremely protective over you?

Warnings: your manager is a dick, your agency wanting you to do things you don’t want to, SMUT 👏

Christopher Chahn Bahng was protective in life, anybody could see that, especially the way he was with his group members, and his family. Nobody could predict how protective he'd become whenever he met Y/n L/n though, it was like you were made for each other.

You were a part of a growing girl group, and as the youngest of the group, you had grown accustomed to doing whatever was asked of you. Your parents raised you to be a respectful, kind, and thoughtful person, so it was only right to do what your elders asked. It'd start to become an issue once you started working for creepier staff, sure there was a handful that were absolute sweethearts, but the rest? Definitely took advantage of the fact you'd do anything for them. You'd always get the more suggestive outfits, lyrics, choreography, and the fans either ate it up, or hated you for it. They'd either love the way you'd put yourself out there, or they labeled you as the group's whore. Rumors constantly flying around about what group or group member you had allegedly slept with, or what scandalous thing you had done that week.

That's when you'd run into BangChan, you'd be at an award show backstage whenever Christopher would overhear you and your manager speaking. "When you start your single, you're going to have a planned wardrobe malfunction with your top, where it'll fall off, just keep your back to the camera, it'll fit your character" He'd explained, his words would strike anxiety through you as you instinctively brought your arms up to cover your still clothed chest "D-Do we have to?..I feel like that's a little too fa-" Your manager cut you off quickly "Are you questioning me? Next question, are you seriously arguing with your boss and an elder right now?" He snapped, you flinched back slightly, starting to stutter and ramble attempting to find the words to defend yourself. "Excuse me. She's got a right to say she doesn't want to" A voice came from behind you, you were too focused on not wanting to come off as rude or disrespectful that you never glanced back while speaking with your manager. "I-It's okay, I-I'll do it, it's okay, J-just don't worry about it" You rambled, your bottom lip starting to tremble as your manager just stormed off in the opposite direction, clearly frustrated with your behavior. As you turned around, your hands shaking slightly with anxiety, Christopher finally got to see how beautiful you looked. Taking in your shaken state, his hands quickly found yours, holding them gently as he leaned down slightly to be eye to eye with you "Hey, you're alright, you don't have to do it" He assured, frowning whenever tears started to fall from your eyes, you felt like a drama queen or crybaby, but you couldn't help it, your parents raised you as if disrespecting your elders was almost as bad as murder.

Christopher wasn't sure what to do, so he followed what his gut was feeling, and pulled you into a tight hug, keeping his hands above your waist, but not high enough to be near your chest. You just melted into his hold, finding comfort in the way it felt like your bodies were made to fit perfectly together. Bangchan felt frustration rise in his chest as he held you closer to him, why weren't the older idols in your group not helping you stand up against people like that? Why would anybody want to make you upset? It was heart shattering to him to see you like this. "Channie!!~" He heard his friends call loudly as they approached, clearly not seeing the smaller shaken frame of yours being held protectively in his arms, despite not even knowing your name yet. "Who is that?" Felix asked tilting his head as he noticed his best friend was basically holding a girl hostage in his arms. "An Idol whose manager is an asshole" He stated, rubbing his hand up and down your back slightly as he noticed your shaky breathing was slowing down back into calm state. "So..You stole her? I'm pretty sure that's illegal, Christopher" ChangBin laughed, chuckling quietly whenever his friend gave him a stern look, silently telling him to shut up.

"Y/n! Come on!" The leader of your group shouted, her tone dripping in annoyance, causing the frustration to build back in Christopher's chest. You slowly leaned away from Christopher's hug, you locked eyes with him for a moment "Thank you..Channie" You giggled, referring to the nickname you heard his friend shout whenever he walked up. "Anytime, Y/n" He chuckled, happy to see a smile on your face, finally.

You wouldn't fully fall in love with Christopher until during your performance, whenever one of your back-up dancers slipped past you, cutting the small piece of fabric that tied around your neck to keep your shirt on. Noticing what the hell was happening, Christopher quickly pushed past the staff that was standing at the walkway for the stage, hidden by the curtains and props. Before anything could be shown to the cameras and audience, BangChan would have a tight hold on you, keeping your chest flush against his. Before you could process anything, Christopher would be glaring the cameraman down as he moved around to try and get a clear shot of your wardrobe malfunction, his plan being destroyed by the older idol using his jacket he had on for their performance after you, to cover your body completely.

As soon as you'd shake off the initial shock, you'd be back in 'performance mode' holding the cut fabric together to give a temporary fix as you tried your best to match the choreography. You'd continue to fall behind and stumble, causing your fellow group mates to laugh and giggle at your actions, only giving you waves of embarrassment. As Christopher stood backstage again, he was grateful of the loud music covering his shouts, he could feel his blood practically boiling as your manager and staff stood a few feet ahead with their backs to him. Seeing that they weren't going to listen anytime soon, Bangchan stormed off, deciding to take a different approach to the situation, his mind (or heart..) not allowing him to just forget about it. Stepping back up to the tape indicating what was front stage and backstage, Christopher noticed you wiping away tears from your cheek as you tried to hit the final mark as the song ended, only looking extremely awkward with your arm reached back behind you.

You would leave stage after that, using your shirt malfunction as an excuse to run off away from anybody who saw your 'performance'. As soon as you'd get the door closed to your dressing room, you'd be quick to try and find your bag of spare clothes. Anxiety would start to rise as your usual f/c bookbag was missing from its spot on the couch, leaving you with no extra shirt for now. The panic would be short lived though, as Christopher knocked on the door gently "Y/n?..It's um..It's Christopher" He called gently, his heart shattering all over again whenever he was greeted with your upset state as you opened the dressing room door. "I-I don't..have a shirt.." You whispered, your voice shaking and cracking as you spoke, you were hoping he wasn't like your managers and would just come in anyways. Instead, Christopher hummed softly as if he was going through his mind for ideas before slipping off his jacket quickly. Before you could speak, he was pulling off his T-shirt and slipping his jacket back on, he stepped forward a bit, eyes squeezed shut as he handed you the t-shirt from the crack in the door. "I-I can't" You protested, not wanting to take the man's shirt off of his back. Christopher huffed loudly in reply "I'm older than you. Take it" He demanded, his tone coming off more demanding, smiling slightly to himself as he saw your arm disappear behind the door with his t-shirt.

Whenever the door would fully open, Christopher would open his arms slightly for a hug "If it's worth anything, I thought you did good" He whispered as you hugged him tightly, not caring that you had just met the man a few hours ago, he was so kind, and his hugs were the most calming thing you had ever experienced. What could you say? You were a hopeless romantic, and this man was hitting every box for your fairytale dream guy. "Don't lie to me, Channie" You huffed, smiling to yourself at the nickname, it was silly, but cute, especially for someone like Christopher. He couldn't hold back his chuckle as he rubbed your back gently "I'm not lying, I think with the situation you were in, you did great" He protested, pulling away slightly to look you in the eyes "I don't like to lie to my friends, especially not the maknaes" He stated, brushing your hair back behind your hair as you locked eyes "I'm not that young, I'm twenty-two" You defended, pouting slightly whenever Bangchan gasped in shock before laughing slightly "You are young! Younger than Jeongin!" He laughed, mocking your pout playfully once he was finished with his laughing session over your age. "Bangchan to the stage, Christopher to the stage" He heard through his earpiece, causing him to mentally groan, of course he had to leave whenever you two were having fun. "Listen, how about you come watch our performance, maybe it'll cheer you up, rather than sitting in here with your group" He offered softly, gently running his hand down your arm until he made it to your wrist, holding it gently as he waited for a reply. "I guess you're right..." You whispered, not wanting to disrespect him in anyway.

You sat in your reserved seat, feeling as if you were to move spots, you'd upset a lot of people, so you stayed with your group members, watching as the boys made their way out on stage. As soon as Bangchan got to his spot, his eyes would lock with yours, giving you a slight smile before motioning you to move to their table. You shook your head slightly, giving him a soft smile, hoping he'd understand that you were fine. As the music started though, a staff from his group made their way over to you "Ms. l/n? Christopher wants me to tell you that he's technically your elder, and he says sit at their table" The young woman stated, maybe a few years younger than you, tilting your head slightly for a moment before finally giving in. As you moved to sit in Christopher's reserved seat, you noticed the music changing over into a different one of their songs. Christopher smiled brightly and innocently as he noticed you sitting in his spot now, waving at you excitedly before moving to his mark for the choreography. The boys would follow the leader, all of them smiling at you and waving excitedly before moving to their marks, leaving you watching with a bright blush apparent on your face.

By the time the award show was over, you'd be asleep curled up in Stray Kids' dressing room, covered by almost every single one of the boys' coats. Bangchan would drag you into the room once everybody was done changing, not liking the way your staff and group members treated you. He wanted you to see and understand that's not how people should treat others, it doesn't matter if their older than you or not, they shouldn't take advantage of your willingness to help others. Now they were packing up the rest of their things, while you slept peacefully, unnoticed by all eight members of the group, until Jeongin would try and get your attention for Christopher. Noticing you were asleep, he'd jump back quickly, almost like he'd be scolded if he woke you, which in all honesty, he probably would've been. "Chan-Hyung" He called out quietly, trying to get his eldest hyung's attention as he finished packing his phone chargers. Turning around Bangchan raised his eyebrows, smiling as he noticed you were asleep in his t-shirt, using his jacket as a blanket, the others just piled on top. "I'll wake her up, you boys just finish up, I'm sure you're all ready to go home" He smiled softly, motioning for Jeongin to finish his packing as he swapped him places, Bangchan now standing a few feet away. As the others made their way to the car that sat outside waiting for them, Bangchan rested a hand gently on your shoulder "Y/n..Jagi...You have to wake up" He called softly, giggling whenever you huffed, pulling his jacket over your face, shaking his head he started to brush your messy hair out of your face. "Come on..I'd hate to leave you here alone" He whispered, smiling to himself whenever your eye peeked open to look at him between his jacket and the sofa you were laying on.

It'd take almost five more minutes to get you on your feet and moving, he wouldn't let you go though, wrapping his coat around you as he led you outside to the car, quite literally just stealing you for the night, even if he wished it was forever. His wish would end up coming true after a short time, you'd end up falling head over heels in love with him after that award show, which would quickly blossom into a relationship between the two of you. Bangchan would be your savior in your eyes, always rescuing you right when you need it, and never asking for much in return, other than your love. It wouldn't take long for the rest of your groups to figure out that you two were together, especially with how often Christopher would steal you in the middle of the night to cuddle with him. It became a habit, neither of you being able to fall asleep without the other, so with your demanding schedules, you spent a lot of your time together just napping with each other.

You'd be lying if you said BangChan's constant want for you learning how to stand up for yourself wasn't extreme pressure on you. You'd try your best, but sometimes people just wouldn't get the hint, and you'd need BangChan's help in order to keep a stern, No. Your staff was starting to become irritated with Christopher and the fact you were becoming less willing to just do whatever, so they'd purposely wait to make plans with you until he wasn't around.

Which is how you ended up standing anxiously in front of your manager, who was eyeing you down as an intimidation tactic. You nervously twisted your rings as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. "I-I don't know, I don't think people will respond well to tha-" You started to explain your reasoning, whenever he'd cut you off in a snippy tone "Y/n. Seriously, I'm getting really tired of this damn act you've been putting on. If I tell you that you're going to do this photoshoot, then you're going to do it" He snapped, his tone caused you to step back, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to remember what Christopher had told you. "I'm sorry I just don't think it's a good-" Your manager cut you off again, this time his body language showing he was becoming very pissed off. "Y/n! Damnit you're doing it!" He shouted stepping closer to you, feeling like you were going to throw up you just nodded in defeat "O-Okay" You whispered before rushing off down the hallway of your agency's building, pressing yourself against the wall as you tried to calm yourself down. Your manager swore up and down that a scandalous photoshoot involving you using ropes as props would be just what you needed to boost your stats, you knew deep down though, it was the company trying to ruin the last bit of reputation you had left. Between your manager, and the spiraling thoughts and reminders of how angry Christopher got towards people because of you not standing your ground, you felt like you were going to pass out.

You slid down the wall until you were resting your forehead against your knees, your hands tangled in your hair as you hyperventilated and sobbed. Christopher was never once angry or even annoyed with you, but you despised the look you'd get from him whenever you'd explain you were stuck. The mixture of possessiveness, and pity always made you feel like a burden to him for some reason, you felt like if you were to just 'get over it' and either stand your ground or just do whatever is asked of you, he wouldn't even need to feel pity for you or get upset.

Whenever you never answered your phone for your usual lunch break call, Christopher had gotten extremely worried, even making the other seven members call your cell phone as well, only for no reply. Feeling something off in his chest, he rushed over to where he knew you'd be, a meeting with your asshole boss and manipulative group members. He still couldn't wrap his mind around why anybody would treat someone younger than them like how your group members treat you. As he entered the building, he took in your group and managers sitting in the conference room, but you and your manager was nowhere to be found inside of the glass room. "You! if you're so adamant about changing y/n why not fucking change her flaws instead of making her more difficult to deal with!" He heard a voice shout harshly from behind "Excuse me?" Christopher asked turning around to face your manager, his face showing nothing but utter disgust for the man standing a few feet away. Your manager just rolled his eyes "You heard me. Either quit your shit, or- even better!- just get her to quit the industry entirely" He spat, smirking as he watched Christopher's fist clench tightly at his sides, Bangchan was trying his best to not just swing on the guy. Who the hell did he think he was? At least you had a name for yourself, this guy was a nobody. Taking a few deep breaths, Christopher had made up his mind, he was going to kick this guy's ass, assault charge or not.

Right as Christopher took a step forward, his thoughts were halted by the short echo of a shaken cough. He would've brushed it off if he hadn't recognized the sound, even if it was barely audible, he had heard it so many times before, the sound of you having a panic attack. "Fuck off" He spat before turning around to figure out where exactly you were, his heart pounding in his chest as his quick walk turned into a jog before a full-blown run down the hallways trying to figure out where your cries were coming from. Whenever he'd finally spot you, he'd kneel down close, not wanting to risk making anything worse for you by immediately pulling you into a hug. His hands twitched as he held back his instinct to just hold you while you cried, but he needed to make sure you were okay first. "Jagiya...oh aein" He whispered, choosing to just rest a hand on your back for now, his heart shattered at your shaken terrified state, swearing in his mind that he'd make whoever responsible extremely sorry. You'd let yourself fall against BangChan's side, feeling some of your anxiety start to fade as he wrapped his arms around you. "Honey..you're safe, it's okay" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he held you tighter, you just attempted to hide in his hold, trying to make yourself appear as small as possible. You tried your best to calm down, but anytime you'd make eye contact with your boyfriend, you'd start crying again. "My Aein..Please speak to me" He whispered, cupping your cheeks as you calmed your breathing for what felt like the 100th time in row "I-I tried to say no a-and stick with it, I p-promise, oppa, b-but he j-just kept g-getting upset, I'm s-so sorry I couldn't-" You were cut off by your body forcing out another cry, Christopher frowned before bringing you closer into a hug, resting a hand on the back of your head so he could run his fingers through your hair. "Oh my- Jagiya, are you sorry because of me? Baby please don't be" He whispered, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his own tears.

"Y-You've been trying so h-hard to help me s-stand up for myself, a-and I can't ever do i-it" You sobbed, clenching his shirt fabric in your fists "My Aein, I should be sorry, I never wanted you to feel pressured to, I'll always be here to be your 'bad guy', baby" He whispered, trying his best to keep his tears from falling onto you. Christopher never meant to make you feel so much pressure on standing up for yourself, he never wanted you to feel like you needed to put yourself in panic just to make him proud. After a few moments, and seeing your manager storm past, BangChan decided it was best to just to just take you home. Knowing the last place you'd want to be is your dorm room, he'd take you to his apartment style dorm he had shared with Jeongin.

Once you were sat down in your boyfriend's bedroom, next to him on the bed, he pulled you in to yet another hug "What happened today?" He whispered, running his hands up and down your back as you sighed, deciding to flop yourself on top of him before telling him about fight you had with your manager. "oof- Okay, What's that for, princess?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows as you squeezed your arms around him tightly "Promise you'll stay in this bed no matter what?" You asked, knowing he was going to be extremely pissed off whenever you explained "..I can't make a promise that I can't keep" He stated after a moment, feeling his mind start to grow cloudy with anxiety and anger, what the hell had happened to make you this cautious about him leaving? "They want me to do a photoshoot.." You mumbled, now starting to rethink telling him anything, you knew this situation would definitely be stepping over the line. "Okay..You're scaring me" He stated, sitting up quickly as he held onto you, keeping you straddled on his lap as he tried to read your facial expressions, hoping that might give him some idea. "Their idea..was for me to be scandalous, and wear something similar to..lingerie..with ropes.." You mumbled, BangChan only heard part of your explanation, tuning out everything after lingerie and ropes, he was going to fucking kill this man and anybody else who had the stupid ass idea. You whimpered a bit in discomfort feeling your boyfriend's hands gripping your hips tightly as he glared past you at the wall, desperately trying to calm himself down before he ended up in jail for murder. No wonder you were so panicked whenever he found you. "C-Chris" You whispered, resting your hands on his as his eyes flicked over to meet yours. Christopher gasped a bit, immediately taking his hands off of your hips, carefully moving the waistband of your jeans to check if you were injured in any way. "I'm so sorry, my love, did I hurt you, aein?" He asked quickly, you just smiled a bit cupping his cheeks, caressing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. "No oppa, I'm okay..Are you..okay?" You whispered cautiously, shocked at how much control he was showing by not storming out to find your manager. BangChan laughed softly shaking his head "I'm going to fucking kill somebody..but.." He whispered, trying his best to keep his mind from planning exactly how intense he was going to beat your manager. "Christopher.." You whispered, trying your best to keep his attention on you and distracted, BangChan really did appreciate you and all you did for him, but this was too far. It was one thing to force you to do an over-demanding job, it was another to try and force you to do something like that, it should've been illegal to force someone into a photo shoot like that. He was silent for a few moments before standing up, taking your hand in his gently before leading you towards his youngest member's bedroom. "Jeongin! Best friend in the world" He called sweetly through the door, smiling the best he could whenever his friend opened the door. "Hey, so can you hangout with Y/n, and make sure she doesn't leave the house to follow?" He asked, not explaining anything else before giving you a gentle push into the bedroom, rushing to grab his shoes and leave the apartment.

He had a plan, kick your manager's ass, come back home to you, his girl. As he made it to your agency building, he realized he had been so focused on his thoughts he never even noticed he had jogged the entire way there, well, might as well get some exercise in too. He was about to enter the building until he stopped, there were cameras inside, and how could he possibly knock out your manager's teeth if there were hundreds of employees inside defending him? Standing off to the side in the parking lot, he waited, watching until your manager made his way out to his car "Hey! Why don't we finish that conversation now that I know what kind of a scumbag you are" Christopher spat, making his way closer to your boss "Excuse me? The only reason you or that whore should be talking to me, is either to hand in her resignation or to agree to the gig" You manager argued, turning around to face your boyfriend, just in time for BangChan's fist to connect with his mouth. "Watch your damn mouth" He growled, leaning back quickly to dodge your manager's punch before swinging again, wincing as his knuckles split from the force of connecting with your manager's jaw. "This is assault!" He called out, BangChan just rolled his eyes "So is trying to force her to pose half naked for you" He growled, kneeling down to grab your manager's tie tightly "Y/n isn't your fucking idol anymore, so keep her name out of your fucking mouth, don't even think about her, or I swear to God, I'll fucking find you, and it'll be so much fucking worse" He snapped, delivering one more swift, hard, punch to the cheekbone before tossing him to the concrete by his tie.

The walk back home, BangChan couldn't keep his mind straight, his blood was boiling and his mind just kept going back to the idea of you dressed like that for somebody else. You were his, His girl, His princess, his best friend, his Aein, you were his, and anybody who tried to change that, or hurt his girlfriend, would have the same fate as your manager.

As he entered the apartment, he slammed the front door, huffing loudly as he kicked his shoes off making his way to his bathroom. As he entered his room, he stopped, noticing the bathroom door already open, and the shower running "Oppa?..Is that you?.." You called out from the shower, your eyes closed tightly as you rinsed the conditioner out of your hair. BangChan wouldn't answer, just making his way into the bathroom, and leaning against the counter, silently waiting for you to be done. Feeling his pissed off presence, you quickly finished up before turning off the water, grabbing your towel to wrap around you, and stepping out of the shower. "Ah! Christopher! You can't do that you scared me!" You shouted, almost losing your balance as you jumped, coming face to face with your boyfriend. Taking in his state, you felt slightly nervous, he had never looked so pissed off, his chest was rising and falling as he panted, and his fists were clenched at his sides, but you could still see the faint bits of blood on his red knuckles. "What the hell happened? Chris why aren't you talking to me" You asked quickly, taking his fist into your hands gently as you tried to examine the wound, anxiety was starting to build as he was still silent. BangChan was stuck in his mind, the thought of anybody ever seeing you like this was really pissing him off, especially with the voice in his head repeating that you were his. It confused Christopher, he had never been this possessive over anybody in his life, but here he was, about to lose his shit over just a thought of someone else seeing you like this. Before he could even react to what his body was doing, he grabbed you by the waist tightly, pulling you close to him as he planted his lips against yours roughly. Gasping in shock against his lips, you tried your best to catch your towel, only for it to slip past your fingers, landing on your boyfriend's hands that were still planted on your hips. "J-Jagiya" You whimpered as his lips moved from yours down to your neck, leaving rough kisses and nips against your skin, Christopher smirked against your skin, pulling your hips closer to press against his, letting you feel just how frustrated he was. "You're my girl, mine." He grunted placing his hands on the back of your thighs so he could lift you up, as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "I know, silly, I'm pretty sure everybody does" You giggled, not fully catching on to what was causing the sudden rush of emotions of your boyfriend.

Christopher was losing himself in his anger, roughly pulling the bathroom drawer out of the counter, onto the floor in order to grab a condom. He’d almost tear the condom itself trying to rip it open, feeling his blood starting boil again until you gently took the packaging from him. You weren’t exactly sure why he was so angry and turned on all of a sudden, but you knew he needed something to help calm him down. Calmly tearing the packaging open and slipping the condom over his hard on, keeping eye contact with him as he let out a shuddered breath, trying not to thrust into your hand. Christopher grunted, grabbing your thighs and spreading them open on the counter as he lined his cock up with your entrance “You’re my woman. This my mine.” He grunted, not really speaking to you, more of just stating a fact as he pushed his cock inside of you. You whimpered loudly as you dug your nails into his back, moaning softly whenever he bottomed out inside of you. “F-fuck, Christopher” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “What, baby? Huh?” He panted, starting to thrust his hips quickly, his cock sliding out of you before slamming back in, almost hitting your cervix as he bottomed out each time. As you tried to let your head fall back, BangChan was quick to grab your jaw, not to rough, even in his beyond pissed off state he was absolutely sure not to hurt you or cause you any unintended pain. “I asked a question, princess.” He grunted, pushing his cock completely inside of you before making eye contact. “W-what?” You whimpered, not being able to remember his question, Christopher only smirked, leaning close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Who’s the only one you can fuck you like this? Huh?” He grunted, starting to move his hips again, this time faster and even rougher. “You! Only you, Christopher Chahn Bahng!” whimpered loudly, you swore you could feel him all the way inside of your stomach every time he slammed into your pussy. BangChan was lost in his own world, not really aware of anything other than pleasure, both yours and his. His cock kept twitching inside of you anytime you squeezed him, he’d start to grow frustrated by not being able to completely go inside of you, to the point he’d lift you up into his arm, causing his cock to go even deeper somehow. You both moaned in chorus of each other, as Christopher made his way to his bed, you desperately tried to hold onto his shoulders, feeling like his cock was already poking your cervix. “I’m the only one who sees you dressed all pretty, tied up. All for me.” He growled as he dropped you onto the bed, continuing his thrust inside of you as you moaned loudly arching your back. His words made you realize what this was partially about, Christopher didn’t like the idea of you wearing something that sexy for another man. “Channie if you wanted me tied up, you could’ve just said so” you teased, pressing your lips against his jawline causing him to moan softly against your touch this time. BangChan felt like he was in a dream, getting to fuck one of the hottest women in the world and her saying he could tie her up whenever, it felt too good to be true.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, princess” he grunted, bottoming out inside of you before starting to grind his hips. You moaned loudly, your legs starting to twitch while you trailed your nails down his back “f-fuck! Right there! Please B-BangChan! Christopher- fuck!” You begged arching your back as he smirked, pulling almost completely out of you “n-no! B-baby please” you whimpered, sitting up to grab ahold of his shoulders, desperate to get any type of friction. “I know, I will, how could I not?” He whispered in your ear, his voice a lot deeper than it usually was as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. The position was new and exposing, but Christopher’s gaze made you feel confident, like you were his favorite meal and he had been starved for days. “Look at that smirk, you know you’re fucking hot don’t you, princess?” He panted, causing you to blush brightly, unaware he had even noticed the small twitch of the corner of your mouth. Christopher slammed his cock back inside of you, adding a twist to his thrust where he’d grind his hips after every thrust, watching in amusement as you’d moan and squeal every time. “Fuck- can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot you’d be- spread open just for me, pretty silk ties keeping your hands up. I wouldn’t want my princess getting hurt” Christopher grunted, chasing after his own orgasm as his mind kept giving him different images of different ways he’d fuck you with your hands tied behind your back. “Shut up or you’re going to make me cum” you whined loudly, embarrassed you were getting close just by his words and voice, it seemed to fuel Christopher’s ego though. “Aww, I want you to cum though.” he smirked, knowing well enough you were close to cumming just by the way you’d squeeze around his cock anytime he spoke. “C-Chris!” You whimpered loudly, squeezing the hand that held your wrists the best you could. Christopher just smirked, holding your hips as he quickened his pace, adjusting himself to reach deeper inside of you if possible. “You can do it, princess, just keep squeezing around me, fuck- just like that princess, just let me do the work, baby” he grunted as you threw your head back, moaning his name as you felt yourself on the verge of cumming all over his cock and the condom he wore. As Christopher grinded his hips one last time, he smirked and groaned softly as he felt you cum around him “fuuck, just like that princess” he panted, slowing his trusts as he placed a hand on your stomach keeping your hips flat on the bed. You whimpered loudly, running your nails down his back as you felt him cum inside of the condom he wore, leaving you both panting heavily, inches from each other’s faces. Whenever Christopher pulled out, you whimpered softly, only to be silenced by his lips pressing against yours gently. As your lips moved together in sync, you started to get lost in your sex-dazed mind. You felt deep down in your heart, Christopher Chahn Bahng was your soulmate, the one, he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“My Aein?..are you okay? You still here?” Christopher’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, his dopey smile coming into your view as you looked towards him. You swore his smile was contagious as you gave him a soft smile back, giggling softly whenever he’d pull you into a tight hug “there you are! I thought I lost you in that pretty head in yours” he smiled brightly, pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he rolled over towards the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna fall!” You squealed, holding onto him as tightly as you could, really not wanting to fall on the hardwood flooring that was a few feet beneath you. “I won’t let you fall, Jagiya. ever.” He whispered to you as he stood up, lifting you up from your spot effortlessly as he walked to the bathroom that connected to his bedroom.

“Christopher?…” you whispered after a moment, glancing at his knuckles as he turned the shower on “hmm?” He hummed in reply, turning around to grab two towels out of the cabinet for you both as he listened “where’d you go?..when you left earlier” you asked gently, your parents had always raised you not to question any of your elders, no matter the age ‘they always know more than you, that’s why they’re older’ your mom would constantly tell you. You couldn’t help it, you wanted- no needed to know, what if he gets himself into trouble? “I spoke to your manager, I let him know you’re not coming back to work for them, you’ve got a different agency” he spoke calmly, walking over to take your hand in his, pulling you from your spot on the bathroom counter. As you stepped into the shower, Christopher not far behind as you turned around to steal another glance at his knuckles, trying to think of the most respectful way to call him out for lying to you. “I-I’m not trying to disrespect o-or question you but I know you’re lying. If you only spoke to him then why are your hands busted?” You asked, lifting up his hand as gently as you could, not wanting to cause him any pain, Christopher sighed, squeezing your hand gently before pulling you into a hug, making sure to keep you under the shower’s water stream to keep you from getting cold. “I got a little..angry..” he admitted nervously, pulling away to glance at you as he heard your soft short giggle “a little? Honey a little is raising your voice, I think you got a little more than angry” you laughed softly, cupping his cheeks as you sighed “I just don’t want you to get into any trouble, Jagiya” you whispered, frowning softly, your expression made Christopher feel like his heart was breaking and swelling at the same time. He felt warm inside knowing that you cared about him that much to the point you were worried about trouble, but it also broke his heart seeing you that worried about him. “I won’t be, my love, whatever I get myself into, I always get myself out” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“So wait..what’s the agency that wants me?” You questioned as you stepped out of the shower, Chris not far behind as he rinsed the conditioner from his hair “if you want, I spoke to my manager and JYP, and he’d be willing to sign you” he explained as he wrapped the towel around his waist “seriously? I would love that” you smiled in excitement, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he smiled “of course, my Aein, anything my princess wants, she shall get” he teased playfully, laughing as you smacked his bicep gently before walking towards into the bedroom to steal some of his clothes for the night.

—

I wasn’t sure how to end this, but I’m thinking of making a part two of reader joining a new agency and maybe a reader + BangChan album/concert collab? Let me know what you think! I love you lovelies, excited to hear from you!!!

—

Stray Kids Taglist!!

@ag02212023

@onyxmango

@bbokarismeow

@yaorzu-blog

(As always, just let me know lovelies if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists! 🫶)

[sparkleyun]

7 minutes in heaven

pairing: jake x fem!reader genre: fluff, highschool au synopsis: After weeks of burying yourself in textbooks, your best friend has had enough. She insists you take a break and drags you to a party thrown by her and a few of her other friends. You’re skeptical at first, since parties aren’t really your thing, but you find yourself actually enjoying the night. That is, until he walks in. The guy who’s made your life miserable all year. The one who never misses a chance to tease you. wc: 2.4k warnings: Jake teases reader for being uptight and a "nerd", alcohol, Jake redemption arc basically

"Come on, you can’t seriously be saying no again."

Your best friend is sprawled across your bed, her head hanging off the edge as she stares at you with an exaggerated pout. You don’t look up from your notes, but you can feel the weight of her gaze.

"I have a chemistry exam next week." you reply, flipping a page in your textbook for dramatic effect.

She groans, dramatically rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in your pillow.

"You always have a chemistry exam, or an essay, or some other reason to close yourself off and forget what fun is."

You frown but don’t respond. However, she doesn't stop there. She props herself up on her elbows, eyes narrowing.

"You know what your problem is?"

"Oh, I’m sure you’re about to tell me." You mutter, playing with your pen as you agonizingly await her answer.

"You don’t do anything," she declares, flinging her arms out like this is some major revelation. "You just study and go to school, and come home and study more. When’s the last time you had an actual conversation with someone who wasn’t a teacher or me?"

You open your mouth, then pause. You were unable to answer her question, which unfortunetly meant she was right.

"Exactly. Which is why you’re coming to this party tonight." she says with a proud grin plastered across her face.

You scoff. "Yeah, no. Not happening."

"Yes, happening." She rolls onto her side, supporting her head up with her hand. "It’s just a party, not a death sentence. You go, you loosen up, maybe even talk to a cute guy"

You shoot her a glare.

"Fine, fine." She waves you off. "But at least let yourself have fun. You deserve a break."

You hesitate. You really don’t want to go, but she knows you too well. She’s persistent, you're compliant, and she always gets her way eventually.

She starts listing all the things she’ll do in exchange: buying you coffee for a week, finishing your half of a group project, doing your laundry, etc. Exhausted by her antics, you finally cave.

"One hour," you say, closing your textbook with a sigh. "And if it sucks, I’m leaving."

She grins like she’s just won the lottery. "Deal."

───

The party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. The house is packed with people, and the music is playing so loudly that you can feel the bass vibrating in your chest. They are everywhere, spilling out onto the front lawn and swaying to the beat of whatever playlist is blasting through the speakers inside.

You hesitate at the entrance. This isn’t your usual scene. Crowds, noise, chaos- it’s the opposite of the structured, predictable and quiet world you are used to.

"Stop overthinking it," says your friend, linking her arm through yours. "I swear, you’re gonna have fun."

You let her pull you inside, where the air reeks of alcohol. The energy is infectious though, and despite being outside of your comfort zone, you start to loosen up.

After a few introductions (most of which you forgot immediately), you manage to carve out a comfortable spot in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a soda can in your hand. Surprisingly, you’re enjoying yourself more than you expected. You’re still not a party person, but it’s nice to let go for a while, to watch the chaos from a safe distance and not worry about exams or deadlines.

Then, just as you start thinking this might not be so bad, your stomach drops.

Jake is standing near the pool table, laughing with his group of friends.

Your body freezes and your heart begins to race. No, no, no. This isn’t happening. Out of all the people in the world, why does he have to be here?

He hasn’t seen you yet, but that doesn’t stop the familiar wave of irritation and, if you’re being honest, a little bit of panic, from crashing over you the moment you realized he was there. Jake, your personal pesterer, the guy who has spent the entire year making you miserable. He’s always got a sharp comment ready, always looking for ways to get under your skin. And now, somehow, he’s here, in the same space, at the same party as you.

Your first instinct is to disappear. Maybe you can blend into the crowd, maybe-

Too late.

His eyes land on you.

You watch in real time as he recognizes your face, followed by something else. A quick curl of his lips into that infuriatingly familiar smirk.

"Well, well," he drawls, abandoning his friends and making his way towards you. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

Your grip tightens around your drink.

"Didn’t expect to be here." you mutter, shifting your weight as he stops in front of you. He looks effortlessly relaxed, dressed in a way that makes it clear he belongs here, like he was made for this kind of scene. Meanwhile, you feel like an imposter.

He tilts his head, his smirk deepening. "So, what happened? Library closed down?"

You roll your eyes. "Wow, you must’ve been saving that one all year."

He chuckles, clearly amused by your growing impatience. "I gotta admit, I’m kind of impressed. Didn’t even think you knew what a party was."

You glare at him, but before you can snap back, your friend suddenly appears at your side, looking between the two of you with an arched brow. "Everything okay?"

Jake doesn’t even glance at her. His focus is still on you, eyes fixated on your nervous figure, despite your attempts to retort.

"Oh, we’re just catching up," he says smoothly.

"Yeah, more like trying to ruin my night" you mutter under your breath.

He grins. "Now, now. I didn't do anything besides try to have a pleasant conversation."

"Are you kidding me?" you muttered under your breath.

Without thinking, you grabbed your best friend by the wrist and pulled her towards a quieter corner of the room.

"Whoa, what was that about?" she yelped.

"Why is he here?" you hissed, jerking your head in Jake’s direction.

She blinked, following your gaze. "Who?"

"Who do you think?"

When she spotted him, a look of realization crossed her face.

"Ohhh, him? Yeah, I invited him."

You gaped at her. "Are you actually insane?"

"Relax," she said, waving a hand. "He’s friends with a bunch of people here. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" You stared at her in disbelief. "He makes my life miserable, and you invited him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, y/n. He teases you, yeah, but it’s harmless. He’s actually kinda fun if you get to know him."

"I don’t want to get to know him."

"Well, too late," she said, nudging you playfully. "You’re at the same party. Might as well make the best of it."

You exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to throttle her.

Just then, as if the universe was conspiring against you, Jake glanced back in your direction. The second your eyes met, his lips curled into that infuriating smirk once again.

"So" he drawled, making his way toward you. "You didn’t think I’d see you here, huh?"

Your grip tightened on your best friend’s arm.

"Look, can you just let me have this?" The frustration in your voice clearly displayed. "I don’t want to deal with you tonight."

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling into that all too familiar smirk. "Wow, I didn’t know you were so desperate for a night off from me. I must really be living rent free in that head of yours."

You shoot him a sharp glare, but to your surprise, he just chuckles, raising his hands in a mocking surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you sulk in peace for now."

With one last glance, he turns around, meeting his friends and disappearing into the crowd, leaving you exhaling in relief, but your body still tense.

───

You’ve been at the party for over an hour now, and to your own shock, you’re not hating it, even after the small encounter. Your best friend was right. Getting out of the house for once wasn’t the worst decision. You even found yourself relaxing a little, laughing at jokes, sipping your soda, and, of course, avoiding Jake as much as possible.

Unfortunately, your luck runs out when someone shouts over the music.

"We’re playing seven minutes in heaven! Everyone get in a circle!"

Your stomach twists. No, absolutely not. No way.

You immediately shake your head and turn to your friend. "Nope. Not happening."

"Oh, come on," she groans. "It’s just a game!"

"Yeah, a game where people get shoved into a closet together for seven minutes," you point out."That sounds like my personal hell."

She rolls her eyes. "You don’t even have to do anything. Half of the time people just talk. It’s just for fun."

You’re still not convinced. You’re about to make a run for it when a hand suddenly lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Oh, you’re definetly playing"

You already know who it is before you even turn around. Jake stands behind you, looking infuriatingly amused.

"I am not playing," you insist.

"She is!" your friend calls, betraying you in an instant.

Before you can argue, someone grabs your wrist and drags you toward the circle. You shoot a desperate glare at your best friend, who only grins and mouths "you’ll thank me later".

Doubt it.

With a pained sigh, you lower yourself onto the floor. The circle is filled with laughter and excitement. Most people are already whispering about who they hope to get. Meanwhile, you sit stiffly, arms crossed, willing yourself to become invisible.

"Alright," someone announces, shaking a hat filled with slips of paper. "Ladies first!"

One by one, people take turns drawing a name and disappearing into a nearby closet. You silently hope the game will be over before it gets to you, but of course, life isn’t kind like that.

Eventually, the hat is passed to you.

You hesitate. You knew that if you refused now, you’ll just draw more attention to yourself. Sighing, you reach inside and pull out a folded slip of paper. For a brief, hopeful moment, you pray it’s someone harmless.

Then, you unfold it, and your stomach drops.

Jake Sim

Your breath hitches as you stare at the name, hoping it would magically change. Maybe if you blink enough times, you’ll see someone else’s name instead.

No such luck.

"Who’d you get?" someone asks eagerly.

You open your mouth to lie, to make up a name, but before you can, he leans forward, plucking the paper right out of your hands. His laughter is immediate.

"Well, this is going to be interesting."

You glare at him, heart pounding. "I’ll pick again."

"That’s not how it works." someone protests.

"C’mon, rules are rules." Jake chimes in.

You clench your jaw. He’s still looking at you, waiting, enjoying this far too much.

"Fine." you snap. "Let’s get this over with."

Someone cheers as you push yourself up, and before you know it, you’re being ushered towards a small coat closet. He follows you at a relaxed pace, as if this is all just another way for him to mess with you.

The second the door closes behind you, you cross your arms tightly over your chest and sit down on the floor, determined to count down the minutes in silence.

For a while, that’s exactly what happens. Neither of you speak. The only sounds are the muffled bass of the party outside and the occasional distant noise of people speaking.

Then, predictably, he breaks the silence.

"You’re taking this way too seriously."

You don’t respond.

"What? Are you afraid of being alone with me?" he teases.

"No." you mutter.

"You sure? Because you’re standing all the way over there like I’m contagious."

You scowl. "Maybe you are."

He chuckles, amused. "Damn."

Silence again.

Then, softer this time, he speaks as he bends down to sit at your level "You really don’t like me, huh?"

You look away, your throat tightening. "What gave it away?" you say in a sarcastic tone

He sighs. "Look, I know I mess with you a lot. But it’s not that serious."

Suddenly, something in you snaps.

"Not that serious?" you echo, your voice rising. "You humiliate me every chance you get. You make fun of me in front of everyone. You act like I’m some kind of joke- like I’m beneath you. So yeah, it kind of is that serious."

The words spill out before you can stop them. Your voice is thick, emotions bubbling to the surface all at once. You didn’t realize how much had built up until now.

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he finally does, his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

"I didn’t think it actually bothered you."

You scoff. "Of course it bothers me."

There’s a pause. Then, unexpectedly, he says, "I’m sorry."

You blink in disbelief. "What?"

He exhales. "I mean it. I didn’t think- I just thought it was fun, you know? I didn’t realize I was actually hurting you."

You look at him, really look at him, and before you can process it, there’s a shift in the air. The small space between you two seems to shrink, his apology hanging heavy in the air, dense with unspoken feelings. Your pulse suddenly quickens.

Then, he reaches out.

Your body freezes as his fingers brush against your wrist, the touch barely there. You should pull away, you should, but for some reason, you don’t.

"I didn’t mean to make you feel like that," he murmurs. "I swear."

Your throat tightens. "Then why do it?"

His fingers curl slightly around your wrist, hesitant. His voice is almost too quiet to hear.

"Because it was the only way I knew how to get your attention."

Your heart stops. The space between the two of you shrinks, and something shifts in your chest.

Before you can process it, the door suddenly swings open.

"Time’s up!"

Light floods the tiny space, and you both flinch. Laughter erupts from the crowd outside, but you’re too disoriented to play along.

You step out first, heartbeat hammering in your ears. Jake follows closely behind, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" Your friend asks eagerly. "What happened?"

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

You’re still reeling, still processing the fact that everything between you and Jake abruptly changed.

Because he apologized.

Because he meant it.

Because for the first time ever, you don't hate him at all.

a/n: this is my first ever fanfic so I hope it's good ( ◜ᗢ◝ ) if this post does well I might post a part 2!!

[theewokingdead]

Heaven Can Wait - Francisco "Catfish" Morales x f!Reader

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader Summary: Frankie wakes up after a night of drinking to find himself in a strange woman's bed. As he grapples with his post-Colombia demons, the stranger beside him offers something unexpected: patience, understanding, and maybe even a reason to live. Word Count: 1.7k POV: 1st person (Frankie) Rating: Explicit Content: Substance abuse and addiction, loss/grief, strong language, sexual content, vomiting, happy ending (because Frankie deserves it) A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s “Work Song.”

Masterlist I stare into my nearly empty beer bottle, hoping it'll reveal answers to my mistakes, though I know it won't.

It's day three of this relentless bender. My hand shakes as I raise my drink, and I can't tell if it's the coke wearing off or the crushing weight of my reality. Tom is gone. My fiancé left. I've driven away everyone who once mattered to me. They’ve moved on. Yet here I am, caught in this destructive loop, questioning whether I want to break free or if this might be the time I don't wake up.

“You look like you could use some company.”

I blink through the haze and find a woman sliding onto the stool beside me. She’s smirking, a little amused, a little intrigued, but there’s something else behind her eyes. Recognition, maybe. Like she’s seen this type of misery before.

I scoff. My chest feels tight, like the weight of her gaze is pressing down on me. “Company doesn’t fix anything.”

“True… But it can distract,” she replies lightly, spinning the bottle in front of me.

Her offer lingers in the air like a half-remembered song, familiar yet out of reach. I glance at the bartender and wave him down. “Another for me. And one for the lady.”

The next thing I know, it's morning. There's a woman on top of me, asleep. A mixture of emotions swirls within me - an unexpected warmth mingled with uncertainty. I'm still inside her, and I can't tell if I'm more comforted or unsettled by the situation.

"Shit," I croak, my throat dry and voice raspy.

Her eyelids flutter open, revealing wide, startled eyes. "Oh… shit," she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper.

We lie there frozen as the weight of the moment sinks in.

My head pounds, my stomach churns, and the realization that I have absolutely no memory of how we got here slams into me like a truck.

"I’m going to be sick," I blurt.

"What…?"

I shove her off—gently, or at least as gently as a man about to puke can—and nearly face-plant off the bed before stumbling toward the bathroom. I barely make it before I drop to my knees and empty whatever’s left of my dignity into the toilet.

Between retches, I hear movement behind me—the rustling of sheets, then footsteps. The bathroom door opens with a creak, followed by the sound of water running. A cool washcloth is gently pressed against the back of my neck.

I flinch, surprised, but don’t push her away. The sensation is grounding, something solid in the middle of the nausea. I should be embarrassed. Hell, I am embarrassed. But she doesn’t say anything - just crouches beside me, her hand light on my back as I ride it out. Her calmness makes it a little less humiliating.

"Jesus," I mutter once I can breathe again, wiping my face with the damp cloth.

She snorts. "Not quite, but thanks."

I groan, pressing my forehead against the cold porcelain.

“You good?”

“Define good.”

She laughs softly. “Well, you're not dead, so… that's something.”

I snort weakly, flushing the toilet, washing away the evidence of my sins. When I sit back against the wall, I notice she’s slipped on a robe. At least she has the luxury of some damn decency.

She disappears for a moment, giving me time to look around the room, taking in how bare everything is. The walls are plain. The counter around the sink is mostly empty. It’s clear she’s still getting settled.

"Here," she says, returning with a towel and tossing it at me. "You might want to cover up. I mean, you’re not bad to look at, but…"

I blink, then glance down.

Right. Still naked.

Muttering a thanks, I wrap the towel around my waist. She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with a smirk.

“Congrats on winning most awkward morning-after experience ever, by the way.”

Fuck. Me. I scrub a hand down my face.

“Thanks,” I say dryly, attempting a smile but failing miserably. “I’ll get a trophy to commemorate the occasion.”

She chuckles. “Please do. I’d love to see you display that on a bookshelf.”

I can’t help but crack a smile at her teasing - there’s something infectious about it. Maybe it’s the relief of not having to face this alone, or perhaps just the sheer absurdity of our situation. “I’m Frankie, by the way.”

She tells me her name, and it's just as pretty as I had imagined it would be. A surge of frustration hits me. How could I possibly forget something so beautiful, so sweet?

I guess that’s what happens when you drown your brain in alcohol and grief.

A pause settles between us. Not quite awkward, not quite comfortable. Just…something different.

Then it hits me. A flicker. A flash.

Low lamplight. The sound of her breathing against my ear. The way she moved - slow and gentle, like she actually cared. Like it wasn’t just sex, not just another body in a long line of bad decisions.

I thought it was a dream.

Even now, head splitting open, stomach still churning, I almost convince myself it was. That I didn’t pull her into me like she was the first thing in a long time that felt real. That I didn’t whisper the words that slipped past my lips, aching and raw, confessions I didn’t dare say out loud when sober. But in the haze of that dim room, it felt easy - like she could see the parts of me I tried so hard to hide.

“Listen, about last night-” I start, but she cuts me off with a raised hand.

“Let’s just take it one awkward moment at a time, okay?”

I nod.

"I should probably get dressed," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably on my knees. The towel slips a bit, and I grab it tighter, half-dreading the moment when I'll have to stand up and face whatever judgment lingers in her eyes.

“Or,” she suggests, “you could just take a second and breathe. We’ve all got our demons, Frankie.”

I look up at her. The amusement from earlier has faded; there’s something softer now, like she knows how fragile I am beneath this façade of bravado and bad choices.

“And we all deserve a fresh start.”

"A fresh start," I echo, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. It’s a phrase I’ve clung to in moments of desperation, yet it feels hollow now, like a promise long broken.

She raises an eyebrow, the smirk returning. “You don’t sound convinced.”

I meet her gaze, trying to decipher her. “Yeah, well… fresh starts are usually just a nicer way of saying you’ve messed up so badly you need to wipe the slate clean.”

“True,” she replies. “But sometimes it’s not about wiping the slate. It’s about what you choose to write next.” She extends a hand. “And you don’t always have to write it alone.”

I hesitate. Guilt gnaws at me. I want to tell her everything, to spill out all the secrets and shame I carry like stones in my pockets. I expect her to ask me about my life, my choices - what brought me to this point of self-destruction. Bu it doesn’t come. She doesn’t prod. She doesn’t ask a thing. Not about Tom. Not about what I’ve done. Not about why I’m trying so hard to drown myself in whiskey and coke. Everyone else has, but she just waits.

Something in her eyes pulls me in, a quiet strength that feels like an anchor amid my stormy chaos. I take her hand, tentative at first, and she helps me to my feet, steadying me as the world tilts slightly. Her grip is firm, warm, and for the first time in a long time, I feel something other than shame and regret.

---

Eighteen Months Later

"Fuck, baby," I groan, my grip tightening on her hips as I thrust deeper.

She gasps, back arching, fingers clutching the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her body trembles around me, heat and silk drawing me in, making me lose myself in her.

"Frankie," she whimpers, breathless.

"I got you, babe," I murmur against her lips. "Always."

A few more thrusts and she’s breaking apart beneath me, and I follow, burying myself deep as I groan into her shoulder.

After, we lie tangled in sweat-damp sheets, her head resting on my chest. The room around us is warm, filled with picture frames holding memories we built together. On our bedside table sits a trophy she gave me as a small gag gift (no pun intended) my last birthday.

Suddenly, she gasps, throws the sheet around herself, and bolts for the bathroom.

I hear it - the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Instantly, I’m up, pulling on my boxers before following her. Dropping behind her, I sweep her hair back, my hand rubbing slow circles on her back as she rides it out. It’s eerily familiar, but this time, something’s different.

"Well…" I smirk when she’s finished. "This is familiar."

She groans but leans into me. “Yeah, well, it’s a little different this time.” She wipes her mouth with a washcloth I hand her, looking both sheepish and exhausted.

I chuckle softly, tracing my fingers along her spine, the warmth of her skin radiating beneath my touch. "How so?" I ask, leaning close enough to catch the faint scent of vomit mixed with her floral shampoo.

"For one, I didn't wake up with some strange man inside me," she says with a playful smirk.

I chuckle. “As your husband,” I reply, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin, "I’d be very concerned if you had.”

“Secondly, we actually planned for this,” she says, a hint of a smile breaking through her weariness. “I mean, not the throwing up part, but you know…”

I exhale slowly, the weight of her words settling over me. Planned. This isn’t just a temporary escape from our pasts - it’s the future we chose. The future we built.

I press my forehead against hers, my hands cradling her face as a slow, contented smile spreads across my lips.

A year and a half ago, I thought my story had already ended. That I was living on borrowed time, waiting for the inevitable crash. But here, in this moment, with her? I know now…

Heaven can wait.

Because I’ve already found mine.

[its-luna-noel]

soul tied | gojo x reader

"You're not going to die on me." "My love, not even death could keep me from you." When the love of your life - or one of your lives - is on death's door, you perform a soul tie ritual to make sure you'll meet again. This tie binds you across time, space, and every universe; your souls now belong to each other. But even a soul tie doesn't make love easy.

tags: f!reader, reincarnation au, soulmates au, threads of fate, angst, pining, slow burn, fluff, meet cutes in every life, non-linear storytelling, fake dating, one bed, drinking

word count: 3.3k

chapter 3/? prev. chapter | next chapter

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: helloooo! chapter here on the quick turnaround for you guys! hope you enjoy, this was a fun one!

2024, Tokyo

|| Satoru Gojo: Just booked the hotel!

|| You: what do you mean hotel??

|| Satoru Gojo: ?? The hotel we’re staying at this weekend?

|| You: you didn’t tell me we were going out of town!

|| You: i am not staying in a hotel room with you

|| Satoru Gojo: Why not? I’m a great hotel buddy

|| Satoru Gojo: ;)

|| You: put your winky face away

|| You: im not sharing a room with you

|| Satoru Gojo: Why

|| You: cause we barely know each other

|| You: and i bet you snore

|| Satoru Gojo: I do not! And fine, if you want to spend your own money on a room. I’d call soon, there’s a whole wedding party staying at the only hotel in town

|| You: …you couldn’t have told me this earlier?

|| Satoru Gojo: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I thought you’d be okay staying with me

|| You: you really think you’re that irresistible?

|| Satoru Gojo: Yes

|| You: just called, no other rooms.

|| You: how much do i owe you for my half?

|| Satoru Gojo: None, I got it

|| You: fine

|| You: see you friday

|| Satoru Gojo: Yay!! See you then

~

Satoru picks you up on Friday afternoon, driving up in a sleek black Maserati and parking out front.

You almost roll your eyes. Of course he has to be gorgeous and rich. You walk over as he steps out of his car, looking somehow put together even in his comfortable traveling outfit of joggers and sweater. You’re matching, though you’re sure your sweatpants from Target are much less high-end than whatever bullshit he’s wearing.

He smiles at you. “Hey, thanks again for doing this.”

“Don’t mention it.” You hand him the garment bag that’s holding your dress for the wedding. Curious and ever intrusive, Satoru unzips the bag and peeks inside, revealing a floor-length, wine-colored piece you picked up for a good deal. At the sight, he glances over at you.

He grins down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What, did ya get this at Macy’s?”

You grit your teeth, hands clenched into fists at your side. “Yes.”

He looks surprised, then coughs to cover whatever expression he’s trying to hide. “Oh. Uh, it’s nice.”

You don’t respond, handing him your duffle bag before climbing silently into the front seat. This is going to be a long ride.

Satoru sets your bag in the backseat and hangs the dress on the hanger hook. Then he climbs inside, his long legs stretching forward to hitting the pedals. You have to force yourself to avert your gaze.

“So,” he says as he shifts gears and pulls away from the curb, “tell me about yourself.”

You grunt softly, turning back to him with an incredulous air. “What, you wanna make small talk for the three hour drive?”

You watch the corner of his mouth quirk up in a small smile, though his eyes stay on the road. “Maybe.”

“You just can’t stand silence, can you?”

“I can’t stand awkward silence. There’s a difference.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”

He huffs a laugh. “Fine. Sit in silence then.” He reaches over and turns up the volume of his music, drowning out his supposed awkward silence.

You’re quiet for a while, letting his music play as you watch the city fade into suburbs. It’s been a long time since you’ve been out of the city; you used to go with your grandfather, used to visit the surrounding countryside and take hikes, but that went to the wayside when he got sick–

You blink away the thoughts. Now’s not the time for reminiscing. Instead, you turn and raise an eyebrow at your travel companion. “Seriously?”

“What?”

You gesture to the infotainment center, where the title of the currently playing song proudly scrolls: “PARTY IN THE U.S.A.” You say, “This is what you listen to? In a freaking Maserati?”

He grins. “I didn’t think you knew what kind of car this was.”

“I do. And I also know your taste in music sucks.”

He gasps and puts a hand to his chest, looking scandalized. His other hand stays on the steering wheel, and you can’t help but notice how casual he looks, how relaxed, how attractive. “My music taste is great.”

“I think you’re objectively wrong.” Right when he’s about to respond, the starting notes of “Fergalicious” start playing. “Oh my god.”

He laughs, looking entirely too amused at your disdain. “What’s good music, then, in your opinion?” he asks, before singing along under his breath, “Fergalicious, definition: make them boys go loco.”

Your own lips curve into a smile, now. You reach towards his phone, raising your eyebrows. Silently asking.

He chuckles and unlocks his phone for you. “I’m trusting you with my life here,” he teases.

You take it and hide the screen from him as you scroll through Spotify, bringing up a new song to listen to. Something with bass and a good beat. You glance over at him as you select a song by Ashnikko you like.

He glances at the screen on the dash. “Isn’t this from Arcane?”

“Yeah.” He laughs softly, shaking his head. You frown. “What now?”

“Nothing.” His lips are twitching, fighting a smile. You just scowl at him, waiting for him to speak. Finally he does. “You’re just a nerd.”

“Am not!”

“Yes you are.” He laughs again. “Even your definition of a ‘good’ song is from a nerdy little show. Admit it.”

You scowl again, but it’s tinged with playfulness this time. You glance out the window, watching the suburbs finally turn to countryside. “Fine,” you mutter, hiding your smile out the window. “I’m a nerd.”

You can’t see his smile, but you can feel his amusement in the silence. Quickly, before he can respond, you continue, “But so are you!”

He just chuckles. “I’m not denying that, sweetheart. You should ask me about digimon sometime if you really want me to get on a nerdy tangent.”

Sweetheart. You try not to let the nickname spread heat through you, but you can’t help it; your cheeks flush slightly at the nickname. You’re glad you’re still looking out the window. “Tell me about it, then.”

He just snorts and shakes his head. “That’s not a first date type of material,” he teases. “Ask me on the third.”

You snort, too, smiling out the window. You’re not sure if he’s kidding, but the idea of a second or even third date doesn't sound too bad, despite how insufferable you thought he was when he first asked. “Yeah, alright.”

You can see his reflection in the window as he turns to look at you curiously. He says, “So…” and reaches over to turn down the music a little. He clears his throat. “What do you do for work?”

You sigh softly. Seems that you were unable to delay the small talk for long. You turn back to him. “I’m a program leader at the public library.”

He looks surprised. He glances over at you again before returning his attention to the highway. “So you really are a little nerd! What does that entail?”

You shrug. “Basically just creating events for the community. I hang out with a lot of old ladies.”

He laughs at that. “So, what, you all get together and knit together?”

“Basically.” He’s not far off. He laughs again. “I run book clubs, craft nights, stuff like that. Along with, you know, other librarian things.”

He hums, nodding. You’re surprised to find him actively listening; you thought he’d just blow off your job as boring. “Do you like it?”

You nod, expression earnest. “I love it. Let’s me meet new people and stuff.” He nods again. You ask, “What do you do?”

“I’m a high school teacher,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking him over. “You, a teacher? Driving a car like this?”

He smiles and explains, “My family’s pretty well-off. I’m a trust fund baby.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding as the pieces click into place. It leaves a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth; your grandfather couldn’t leave much of anything for you in an inheritance, and here Satoru is, able to fly through life with ease.

He chuckles, sensing your frustration. “That change your opinion of me?”

“No,” you say teasingly, “my opinion of you was already pretty low.”

He huffs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Brat,” he mutters, fighting a smile.

You smile back. Then you ask, “Where do you work? If you don’t mind my asking.”

He shrugs. “It’s no problem. I work at Tokyo Tech.”

“Cool. Do you like it?”

He nods, watching the road. “I like training the next generation.” He glances over with a smile. “Seems like you’re partial to the old generation, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess you could say that.”

“Any particular reason?”

You take a deep breath, not really wanting to talk about it, but what else are you going to chat about for three hours. “Uh, my grandparents raised me. Mom walked out, wasn’t able to care for me as a kid. So they really stepped in and did their best for me.”

He nods a little, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “It sounds like you’re glad to have them,” he observes.

You just nod, glancing out the window. You don’t say more, and he doesn’t push.

The rest of the drive passes much like that, each of you occasionally asking a question while the music plays through the speakers. You take turns playing music you like, and you find yourself laughing a lot with him. Not only is he aggravatingly handsome, and rich, and charming, but he’s also funny.

All of a sudden, staying in the same hotel room with him doesn’t seem so bad.

~

1727, Bahamas

“So,” Captain Gojo says, propping his boots up on the desk and leaning back in his seat with a wide smirk, “why should we take you aboard?”

You, dressed in loose trousers tucked into your own boots and a gray reefer jacket, with a jagged haircut tucked under a red bandana, frown. “You’re asking for my qualifications?”

The captain inclines his head. “Naturally. I don’t take any old scallywag on my ship, Mister…?” He trails off, raising an eyebrow for your name.

You give him your last name. It wouldn’t lead him anywhere; it’s a name that means nothing, gives you nothing. It’s a useless name for a useless family that you left behind in the dust to come find treasure, adventure, the seven seas.

Gojo drops his feet to the floor and folds his hands together, leaning onto his desk. He levels a serious look with you, blue eyes bright and searching. “As I said, I don’t take just anyone. So, either tell me why I should take you, or I’d kindly ask you to leave my ship before we force you off.”

You clench your teeth. You didn’t run away to be cast away before you even embarked on your first journey. You didn’t cut your hair, bind your chest, and rub filth on your face in order to be told ‘no’ and to return to your family with nothing to show for your endeavors.

So you say, gaze matching the captain’s, “My father fixes firearms. He taught me a few things. I’ve trained to be a firearm specialist. I can shoot, and I’m willing to do any jobs you give me, but I work best with my hands.”

Captain Gojo looks down at your hands resting on the desk – feminine hands, soft only superficially dirty. You hope he can’t see those traits in them. He looks back at you and squints thoughtfully. “Is that all?” he drawls.

You shake your head, and that’s when you sweep aside your coat and reveal three brand new, beautiful pistols hidden on your person. The captain’s guards immediately rise to protect him, to apprehend you, but he just raises a hand to stop them, eyes locked on the firearms.

You do not reach for them, hands raised obediently in the air. You say, “I bring gifts.”

And with that, the captain gives a slow, sly smile, and nods. “Alright, kid,” he says, reaching across the desk to shake your hand. “You have yourself a position among my crew. Welcome aboard.”

~

2024, Karuizawa

When you arrive in the small town where the wedding is being held, Satoru turns to look at you. “Hungry?”

You nod eagerly. “Starving.”

He glances out the window, eyes searching from behind his sunglasses. “Feel like having soba?”

“Sure.”

He pulls off and parks, and you can see his car attracting some eyes from pedestrians passing by. You watch their eyes trail over the luxury vehicle, and then you glance over at Satoru, who’s smiling at you.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks. “To have something that others envy.”

You watch him for a moment before nodding a little. “Yeah,” you say, finally looking away. “It does.”

The two of you have a simple dinner together, still allowing yourself time for small talk. He asks about work, and your hobbies, and stays away from family, for which you’re grateful. And you ask about him, until your bowls are empty and you’re still left chatting animatedly across the table.

Then he leads you back towards the car, and this time he opens the door for you. You can’t help but blush as you thank him.

The drive to the hotel is another half hour; the town you’re staying in is outside of Karuizawa, and the hotel is, indeed, the only one in town. Once you’re arrived and parked, Satoru steps out and takes your bags, while you take the garment bags, holding them over your shoulder by the hangers. You walk inside and towards the check-in desk.

The front desk lady smiles and greets you. “Hello. What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Satoru Gojo,” he says, voice low and smooth as he checks in. You look around at the quaint hotel, trying not to listen to the financial gift he’s giving you for not making you pay him for your half of the room. Then when he’s given two keycards, he hands you the second one and leads you down the hallway.

“Satoru!” a voice calls, and you assume it’s his friend, perhaps even the one who’s getting married. You turn, and so does Satoru, and your smile goes strained when you don’t see a friend.

You see someone with the same striking white hair as him – clearly a family trait.

“Hey, Akari,” he greets, nodding politely, since he’s unable to wave with both hands occupied by your luggage.

Akari walks over, smiling brightly. “Hey,” she says, and turns her attention to you. “You must be the famed date! I’m Akari, nice to meet you.” She sticks out a hand.

You fumble with the garment bags before shaking her hand, internally cringing at how sweaty your hand must be. You tell her your name, and then you ask. “And you’re Satoru’s…?”

“Cousin! Though, not the lucky bride-to-be, that’s Emi. You’ll get to meet her tomorrow, of course, and the others!”

“Great,” you say, though you seem to have forgotten your enthusiasm at the door.

It’s silent between the three of you for a moment. Then Akari speaks again. “Well, it was nice to meet you!” she says, and you and Satoru echo the sentiment. Then you all, awkwardly, walk in the same direction towards your rooms.

“Oh!” she exclaims, laughing sheepishly as you come to your door. “It looks like we’re neighbors! Good to know.”

You smile weakly before reaching for your card and trying to shove it into the slot with shaky hands. Jesus, could you just get this conversation over with–

Satoru reaches around you to steady your hand, and the door unlocks with a click. He jerks his chin towards Akari. “See you tomorrow,” he says before ushering you inside.

“Bye!” she chirps, and you can feel her curious eyes on you as Satoru shuts the door, locking it behind you.

You look up at him, gritting out under your breath, “You didn’t tell me this was your cousin’s wedding. You said ‘friend.’”

He shrugs, entirely nonchalant. “What’s the difference?”

You give him an incredulous look. “‘What’s the difference?’ Satoru, you’re supposed to warn someone before they meet your entire family!”

He just smiles. “I was going to tell you tonight. Surprise!”

You just groan and push your way past him into the hotel room.

It’s a very nice room, with a large king-sized bed by the windows and a small kitchen island with a bar.

You are, despite your sour mood, impressed by the accommodations. Accommodations which are, of course, free to you, since Satoru seems to be loaded. “Wow,” you say appreciatively.

He grins and places your duffle bag on the bed, beside his small roller carry on. You hang your dress and his suit in the small closet. “Nice, right?”

“Very.” You come over and grab your bag, digging through until you find your bag of toiletries and your pajamas. “Need the bathroom?”

“Nope, go ahead.”

You wash up at the sink, brushing your teeth and starting your skin care. You poke at a particular pimple you’re hoping to cover up with makeup tomorrow, now cursing its existence after finding out this is Satoru’s family you’ll be meeting.

You don’t know why it seems so important to you. It’s not like you guys are really dating, anyway.

You sigh and put down the washcloth, changing into your pajama shorts and t-shirt. Part of you wishes you’d packed something a little cuter, but then you shake the thought away; absolutely no funny business will be happening while his family members are in the next room.

You walk out of the bathroom, padding over to the bed. You climb in on one end, watching Satoru whistle happily on his way to the bathroom. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest with sharing the room with you. Part of you wonders how often he’s done something like this. You just shake your head at the idea; you don’t want to know.

When he comes back, he’s dressed in sweatpants and a comfy looking white t-shirt. You have to fight to keep your eyes from trailing over his arms, his chest, his face. You look away, digging through your bag for the book you packed. You settle yourself against the pillows, opening up the book and setting your bookmark on your lap.

He chuckles as he climbs into bed beside you. You glance at him and ask, “What?”

He leans in towards your ear, close enough you can feel his minty fresh breath, and whispers, “You’re a nerd.” Then he pulls away, grinning, and sinks under the covers, rolling over so his back is to you.

You’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t want to hang out anymore. But you can’t blame him; you did spend several hours in the car, and another hour at dinner. You suppose he’s earned some quiet time.

He sits on his phone for a while, the sound of TikToks filling the quiet room as you try to focus on reading. Every so often, he lets out a soft snort at whatever he’s watching, and you can’t help but smile at the sound each time. Then, after a half hour or so of scrolling, he reaches over and turns off the light on his bedside table.

“Night,” he says, bringing the blanket up around his shoulders.

“Good night,” you reply, voice soft.

You stay up reading for a while longer.

You can’t help but facepalm and let out a soft groan when he does, indeed, snore softly into his pillow.

additional notes: everyone just pretend they have Macy's in Japan, okay? hi! i know this chapter was pretty americanized, with the long drive and everything, but i hope it was still enjoyable! i really tried my best to get some good banter in here, so i hope you liked it! i love these two, and i hope you do too. that's it! see you in the next one :))

thank you for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next

(taglist: @inlove-maze, @jotarohat, @moonchhu, @elitesanjisimp)

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Part Four <3 This is where shit will get GNARLY, lovelies, so mind the gap (between Reader and their three awful boyfriends [not counting Gary, obv])

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

You're comfortable there, in that bathroom.

Gary, even after he's wiped you down, treats you gentle. Sits you up in your own little corner and has you sip on some water as he showers in one of the stalls.

It felt nice, just letting yourself cool back off, but not really being on your own.

Gary was very kind with you.

Should bring him food, some part of your lizard brain supplies, he looked like he was struggling a little his last set.

With the new mission in mind (and a spare* hoodie that Gary keeps in his gym bag), you knock on the shower wall to alert him that you're leaving, and shove your phone from your own bag into your pocket without even taking a glance at it.

The calmer, almost content feeling abandons you as soon as you open the door and spot Gaz walking into the gym room.

Of course, his hazel eyes catch onto you, and of course (because you really can't catch a fucking break), he trots over.

He doesn't greet you as he typically does, not with a sweet endearment and a firm hug. Instead, you're met with an appraising, almost judgy glance–knowing Gaz, he probably is judging you–and a cocked brow.

"Didn't pick up your phone before you showered?"

The question rings out to you, but you know he's not all that in your answer. It's not a warning, but a reminder that Gaz has never been the most patient. He's never liked to wait.

"Haven't checked it in a couple days, actually."

You impart in kind, crossing your arms over your chest for your own sake. You really don't want to have any face-downs today. You'd been feeling so good before.

He looks you up and down once more. It feels like his eyes peel your skin back, taking in the appearance of the ugly, squishy bits inside you before he clicks his tongue and steps back a bit.

"Right then. Just so you know, Johnny's right miffed with you. Told me you were being a prick last night. You know why?"

You hate this. You hate this so much. You would have never signed up for this if you knew It would be so draining.

Soap who couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to treat you like a partner, Gaz who seemed to want to cut your head off every time tension arose, and Ghost. The romantic equivalent of an absent father you only see on Christmas or birthdays.

Maybe you're letting the anxiety of the last few days talk. Maybe it's rash (no, it's definitely rash), but you can't handle a second more of this.

"Yeah, I was, sorry." You pause, before just coming out with the rest of it: "I'm thinking about cutting off this... thing. Thought you should know."

Ooh. Spoken with tact. Good job. Your own thoughts mock, but the very worst part of this is that Gaz seems to finally snap out of whatever haze he was caught in. His face twists, and your stomach twists with it as you watch his brows pinch and hear his voice quiet.

"...What? Love, you can't-"

You've pushed him to the back foot now, and it feels horrendous. So, you try to harness the grossness you always feel when he touches you, the aching emptiness of your room when you hear Soap on top of Gaz.

Or the knowledge that Soap and Ghost stay with him longer than they ever have you.

You were too green, too new to the team and too stupid to remember that of course the others wouldn't offer too much. But something between waking up from emergency surgery alone and making friends with the guy who dragged you away from death's door made you open your eyes to it.

"It's fine. Not your fault, just my mistake."

"Mistake, what do you even mean mistake? We were supposed to be partners. You're supposed to be my partner, luv, can you not see that-"

"You're not missing out on much, don't worry. I can't fuck anybody for at least another week anyway."

"What the bloody fuck are you talking about?"

The door to the bathroom opens behind you at maybe the worst moment in history, revealing Gary, still a little damp-haired from the shower. His boots squeak against the floor as he pauses in his step, watching the conversation confusedly.

Gaz's eyes widen, and before you can stop him, he's giving you the nastiest glare you've got in your life, spitting words like venom.

"Oh, so that's why you've been so distant, huh?"

Words choke and tangle in your throat as you look forward at him, watch the resentment in his eyes undoubtedly grow into a bruning hatred.

"It's not-" You try to start, but you never get to finish.

"No no, I get it. Must be real hard hiding how much of a slag you are from the team, yeah?"

You're not sure if you want to punch him or cry out of anger. You end up doing neither, clenching your hands into fists to avoid dishing out pain.

Gary looks confused, and you lack the control to hold any amount of civility anymore. He didn't need to be involved with this.

You didn't want Gary to think you were some sort of slut. Not him.

"I had an appendectomy, you stupid prick! Days ago, if you really wanna know"

You've never been one to raise your voice. It feels rude, but when Gaz quiets, there's nothing to be done but go in for the kill.

"You didn't pick up. I could have died in a bathroom stall because you were so busy that you couldn't check your phone and help me."

Gary puts his hand on your shoulder as you step forward, silently talking you back from wailing on Gaz in the middle of the gym.

When you look back, he signs to you.

There's time for that later.

You grit your teeth, but nod, offering a simple affirmative sign in return before turning back to Gaz with venom on your tongue.

"Fuck you. If I see your face before the end of my break, I'll make sure no one ever calls you pretty again, hear me?"

He could beat the shit out of you. But he doesn't. Gaz looks... upset. You can't muster sympathy right now.

"Break?"

Gaz questions, quiet-voiced and not quite looking you in the eyes.

"Yeah, the brass gives you breaks after fuckin' surgery, numb-nuts. Might as well take it if I've got it, right?"

You're verbally shoving his face into the curb, grinding your boots down on his throat. It feels better than you thought it would, finally just letting it all out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Gary packed an extra hoodie because you seemed to like them. He's a little sad you didn't get to enjoy it too much. He has a feeling he might have more work to do for you to feel that comfortable again. (P.s. really just need to get it out of my drafts at this point, looking at it makes me sick now. So, enjoy what you can. Take it, my children.)

[phantomtorched]

When Ayaka smiles at Tatsu, the uncertainty that had been there until a second ago seems to have drained out of her a little more.

"Thank you for listening!" she exclaims, and truth be told, her heart is beating faster after her performance - but it's not a bad kind of feeling at all. If anything, the thrill of knowing he's heard her song is exciting, even if she's not quite sure she'd have the same reaction if it were anyone else listening.

"What did you think? I know I need to practice more, but... I'm pretty happy with it right now."

@kidwcnder ( starter! )

[overlymetaromantic]

Wait... who's the top and who's the bottom between Maki and Kaito?

It's whoever you personally want it to be LMAO 😂 (If you want a marginally longer answer, here's a slightly busted screengrab of my Hiatus Q&A answer to the question lolololol 😂😂😂)

[medicinemane]

Love the hatred of pronouns, just too fucking funny

Also love the statement "I don't have DNA, I have USA" cause... where to even begin with that one? Unfathomable, so silly, if some of the shittiest people on earth weren't the ones saying it I'd love it cause of how entertaining it is

Anyway, fuck pronouns, never use pronouns, never use 3rd person, never use nouns. If you're referring to stuff that's some woke bullshit so get it out of here