#what if that meeting changed the trajectories of both of their lives | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helenanell · 9 months ago

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A Breath of Life || Challengers

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Part Two

Pairing(s) : Reader x Patrick – Reader x Art – Reader x Tashi (sort of.)

CW: MDNI - 18+ : smut, rough / manhandling. Infidelity. Angst. A lot of yearning. (They all want each other, badly.) Manipulative behaviour. Minor spoilers for the film.

Notes: Female Reader (AFAB Reader) - Absolutely no use of y/n, (because I despise it, sorry)

Wordcount: 9.7K

Summary: You met Tashi in your final year of high school and were more than happy to have lost a tennis match against her. Afterwards, the two of you become inseparable and you find yourself feeling for her in a way that you don’t quite understand.And then things get even more complicated when Patrick and Art burst into your lives. As the years pass, desire, love and hatred all get tangled together...and so do the four of you.

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The idea of meeting Tashi Duncan had been much more intimidating than the actual event itself. It was an odd thing, to idolise someone who was the exact same age as you—a girl not yet out of high school and still so chronically unsure of herself and the world—but it was impossible not to.

You had watched every single match of hers that you could, staring for so long at the way she moved, that you were left with the afterimage of her burned into your eyes: She was in your thoughts constantly and always waiting behind your eyes when you closed them hoping for sleep.

You were brilliant at tennis, you knew that you were. But Tashi played like it was the only way she could take oxygen into her lungs; each serve and shot an inhalation and exhalation. You understood, because you felt something similar.

For a long time, you had been ignored or dismissed in every aspect of your life, by everyone. But then you had found tennis, and you were really fucking great at it.

Tennis saved your life by making you undeniably tangible. Your existence could not be disputed when someone had to react to your movements, to receive something you had offered.

It was no wonder then, that for as long a match lasted you were unhealthily obsessed with whoever it was that you were playing against. They made you real.

But then you played Tashi. You had lost, of course, but it had been a close match, neither of you dominating for long before the other gained the upper hand once more. The gasps from the crowd had been the swelling of some great tide, breaking against your flesh and reinvigorating you like freezing water.

Once it was over, you felt bereft of something vital. You felt as though you had slipped back into non-existence, only this time it was worse than ever, because your connection to Tashi Duncan was gone.

But your body remembered. It ached and throbbed, rebelling at all you had put it through- no. All Tashi had put it through. You were desperate to feel it again.

And your prayer was answered.

She appeared before you like an angel.

Tashi jogged over to you as you gathered your things after the match, flushed and with beads of sweat glistening on her skin like crystals. And her eyes…they had been wide and dark and enrapturing. And then she had said the words that would change the trajectory of your life:

“So, when can I play you again?”

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Ruah is the Hebrew word that means God’s spirit, but it is also breath or air and is widely understood to be God’s presence in the world.

You couldn’t remember when you had learnt the word, but you knew that in the Bible, God had created Adam by breathing life into him. Which was why, when anyone joked about Tashi Duncan being some kind of deity, you could not dispute it, because that is what she had done to you.

Tashi had breathed life into you.

Her presence in your life has allowed you to come alive even off the court: you finally felt like a real person. Thanks to her, you knew that when you put your racket down, you did not simply disappear.

Tashi saw you, on and off the court, and you loved her for it.

But, by the time you were both accepted into Stanford, over a year after you’d first met, you still wouldn’t let yourself delve into that love, and work out the ways in which you felt it. Not only because, you’d only ever been drawn to guys in any romantic or sexual way, but also because you felt undeserving of her.

How pathetic would it be for you, who crawled at your best friend’s feet, to look up and whimper out words of desire to her?

You were blessed to have her in your life, let alone to be as close with her as you were. Love was so many disparate things; you could love her as a friend, and hold that carnal aspect deep down. Just having her in your life was more than enough. She was enough.

Or so you thought.

At the party celebrating Tashi, the two of you had not yet left each other’s side. You were dancing together, close enough that you could feel the ecstasy of victory buzzing beneath her skin as she held your hands and pulled you close. Her hair was silken and flowing down her back and as you were tangled up with her, it tickled against your own exposed skin.

“They’re still staring.” You whisper into her ear, laughing as she answers by twirling you around and then pulling you back in.

You practically fall into one another, having to steady yourself by placing your hands on her hips, the beaded fabric of her dark blue dress digging into the palms of your hands.

“Good.” Tashi answers, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

She turns you enough that with your chin resting on her shoulder, you are looking right at the two boys who had been gawking all night. One dark haired with confidence coming off him in waves, the other more reserved, a different kind of potency bubbling beneath the surface.

The blonde’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head, offering a delicate but untethering smile.

“You’re going to have to talk to them.” You offer, still held in Tashi’s arms. “Otherwise they’re going to follow you around like lost puppies all night.”

You gasp and squirm away as your friend playfully pinches your side.

“Do you really think they’re just looking at me?” Tashi questions incredulously.

You laugh at her shock. “Of course they are.” You say, gesturing up and down her form as she continues to sway to the music.

“Oh my God!” Tashi exclaims, grabbing your hand and pulling you close again. “You’re such a fucking idiot! They’re looking at you, too!”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help feeling a little buoyed at the prospect of being desired. “Yeah, right.”

Tashi shakes her head. “It’s a good thing you’re so oblivious, I like having you all to myself!”

Heat floods every part of you, acutely aware of the sweat trickling down the back of your neck, your skin uncomfortably warm.

Only when the two of you have stopped dancing do they come over.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig saunter needfully into your life and had you known then all that would ensue, you still would have welcomed their approach.

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The four of you had wandered down to the beach.

Art and Patrick were sitting on deck chairs that sat side by side, their legs stretched out and their gazes lustful, both of them looking at Tashi who was perched on a rock opposite them. In that moment, the moon seemed made only for her, the silver light lining her form.

You sit on the sand near her, your legs pulled up to your chest. The waves softly hit the beach behind you, lulling you into an even more incorporeal mindset. All that exists to you, is Tashi and the two boys who so clearly want her.

Despite how desperately you want to engage in their conversation, you’re exhausted and distracted by the knowledge that your parents will already be looking for you.

You’ve rested your chin on your knees, your eyes drooping shut, when a voice calls out to you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Art is crouching beside you, his hand on your back, his knees sinking into the sand, shifting the surface beneath you. You jolt at the contact, scrambling to your feet as Tashi chuckles.

Patrick’s gaze flits between you and Art and then over to your best friend, his cheeks dimpled with a smirk.

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a shaky smile, brushing sand off the back of your dress. “I should go though, my parents will be waiting.”

“You can’t leave!” Patrick protests playfully, placing a hand to his chest. “You’ll break my heart.”

You grin, spurred on by his own smile and shrug. “And why should I care about that?”

Patrick’s mouth drops open in feigned hurt as Art chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets and stepping away from you.

You turn to Tashi, meaning to say goodbye, but she’s already up and hugging you. She often kisses your cheek as a form of goodbye, but this time she gets so close that her lips tease the corner of your mouth as hers make contact. You are electrified by it.

You know that she isn’t doing it for you, which is confirmed when she pulls away with her eyes flitting giddily between Art and Patrick who have both gone utterly still as they watched the display.

Despite the jealous ache that blooms, you play into it, because another part of you is excited at the thought of working the two boys up. You pull Tashi back into a hug, your hands resting dangerously low on her back as you squeeze her. She giggles into your ear.

“You already have them wrapped around your little finger.” You say it quietly, but loud enough that you know the boys will hear.

Over Tashi’s shoulder, you see Patrick smirk again and Art runs his thumb over his his bottom lip with a small smile on his face.

When you do finally pull away, Tashi smacks you on the ass.

“It was great to meet to you!” Art shouts after you.

“I miss you already!” Is Patrick’s shouted offering.

You just shake your head and continue on your path away from the beach.

Unbeknownst to you, three sets of eyes follow you until you’ve disappeared from view.

When you get home, you still feel the touch of Tashi all over you. But when your hand dips under the covers, something has changed. Because when you close your eyes, it’s not just Tashi you see. Instead, multiple people are fighting for dominance in your midnight fantasy:

You see Patrick’s licentious smirk.

You see Art’s coy smile.

They’ve both invaded your mind, corrupted your thoughts that for a year had been so gloriously void of anything but Tashi.

And from that moment, you know part of you will always hate them. For so long, even knowing you can’t have her, all you’ve needed to sate yourself are thoughts of Tashi. But they’ve changed that.

You hate Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson because they’ve made you want more. You want….one of them. You don't know why and you also don’t know which one of them it is.

But what is clear to you, is that a new itch has arisen within you, and it comes with panic, because unlike with Tashi, you’re certain there’s a possibility that one of them might actually want to scratch the itch for you.

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Had he known how furious you were going to be with him when you arrived, you doubted Art would have been so eager to invite you to have lunch with him in the cafeteria.

Even when you slam your tray down and drop into the seat opposite him, he still looks happy to see you. He always did. It was infuriating.

“What are you playing at, Art?” You struggle to keep your volume down. You hadn’t wanted to yell at someone in a long time, but he had managed it.

Concern flashes in his eyes, but his lips press together in a way that tells you he knows exactly what you’re referring to. And yet he still asks:

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking with Tashi’s head.”

“I would never do that.”

You scoff, stabbing the flimsy plastic fork into your salad. “Except you are, and I know that you’re doing it on purpose.”

Art pushes his own tray to the side and settles his elbow onto the table, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah, how’d you figure?”

“Why else would you tell her that Patrick doesn’t love her?”

“Because I don’t think he does. Do you?”

You ignore his question, instead opting to pick up your apple and throw it at his head, hard. He catches it, that damnable little smile still on his face.

“For fuck sake, Art!” You erupt. “She needs to keep her head on straight. Don’t upset her just because you want her for yourself!”

He tilts his head, blue eyes sparkling as he takes a large bite out of the apple. He chews for a bit before holding it back out to you, speaking through a mouthful:

“You should have the rest of this, you haven’t been eating enough.”

“Fuck you!” You snatch it from his hand and shift in your seat, easily throwing it and landing it right in a nearby trashcan.

“Well that was a waste of perfectly good fruit.” Art licks some residue off his thumb and then leans across the table.

You fail to snatch your wrist away before he grabs it. He’s gentle but firm, and as his thumb rubs along your pulse point, you feel the residual moisture from his own mouth he’d left behind, transferring to your skin.

“You don’t have to fight this hard to protect her,” Art presses. “She’s a grown woman.”

“She’s my best friend and I don’t want you to hurt her.”

Art’s thumb stills, but he tugs your wrist a little closer. “Do you really think I could?”

You scowl, pulling free of his hold. “You know, the way you and Patrick worship her isn’t the compliment that you both seem to think it is. You’re putting her up on a pedestal, practically deifying her, but she’s not invulnerable. She feels more strongly than anyone I’ve ever known and tennis is her life. If you get in her head and fuck up her game, It will break her and then I will break your fucking hands.”

This time when he’s smiles, it’s rife with fondness for you and it makes you want to punch him for the fluttering it causes in your stomach.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He says simply.

“What?”

“Do you think Patrick loves her?” Art repeats patiently.

“Do you love her, Art?”

“Can you please just answer my question?”

“I don’t know!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m not even sure I would know love if I saw it. All I do know, is that you both lust after her and definitely for each other too, even if you’ll never admit it. You’re all totally fucked.”

Art’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking, but instead of irritation or anger at your outburst, his gaze softens. When he speaks, it is soft and achingly tender:

“You do know love. Because you love Tashi.”

You let out an embittered laugh. “Of course I do. I tell her all the time.”

“But she doesn’t love you, not in the same way.”

You really didn’t know if he intended for that to sting, especially not with how gently he’d said it, but if he had, he’d failed. You came to accept that fact a long while ago, and while you would always want Tashi in some respect, it was not the all consuming desire it had been. The lust was gone. She was important to you. She was your best friend and you wanted to protect her.

Unfortunately, the two men you wanted to protect her from, were the ones who had usurped her as objects of desire in your mind.

“Are you trying to find yourself a catchphrase before you go pro?” You sneer at Art. “I’m not sure how great that would look on a billboard for Adidas.”

“You deserve to be loved.”

You had picked up your cup to take a drink of water, but upon hearing his words, you slam it down again and rise to your feet. He tracks your every move, as calm as ever.

“I can’t talk to you right now, Art. You’re being cruel.”

You storm away from the table, only making it a few steps before you hear the scrape of his chair against the floor as he rushes to follow you.

You’ve only just pushed open the door when he crowds up behind you.

Art’s hand lands on your back as he guides you outside, his other hand rests on your arm and even after he turns you to face him, his touch remains.

His hand is wrapped lightly around your arm, the other keeping you close- his palm pressed against your lower back. Anyone watching would think he was drawing you into an embrace. You almost shudder at the contact.

Patrick has always been handsy, touching and caressing you under the guise of teasing, but Art has always moved around you as though you’ll disintegrate at the lightest touch. The way he’d held your wrist back in the dining hall and how he cradles you now, is the most he’s ever touched you.

Your chest heaves as your flesh tingles.

Art’s head drops, his eyes on his own hand on your arm, as if he can’t understand why he’s holding you. His voice is strained:

“Patrick isn’t good for her.”

And just like that, you’re slammed mercilessly back down to earth.

Art wasn’t touching you with tenderness or affection, you were just someone he was holding in place so that you had to hear him out. So you had to hear how much he wanted Tashi.

“Oh, but I deserve to be thrown at him as a distraction so that you can have her?” You snap at him, more hurt than you’ll ever admit.

“You deserve whatever it is that you actually want.”

Art sounds frustrated now, not at you…but perhaps at what he knows you won’t say. You do want Patrick. But you also want him. You had just never considered that he knew that.

But that’s not what you say. Instead you say–

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Do you want to know why he isn’t good for her?” Art presses, entirely unaffected by your fury.

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The hand on your back pulls you a little closer, one errant blonde curl falls down from his forehead and brushes your temple. His breath is hot against your cheek.

“Patrick’s not good for her-“ Art begins, his tone becoming embittered. “Because he wants you. He always has.”

You rip free from Art’s grip with such force that the friction of it burns, his fingerprints leaving red marks on your arm. “You are unbelievable!”

“I’m not lying. You know I wouldn’t, not to you.”

“You will say anything to have her won’t you?” You laugh nastily. “What’s the plan, Art? Do you think that I’ll try and seduce Patrick away from her now, leaving a space open for you to swoop in?”

“Ask me how I know.”

“No.” You spit back at him.

But you don’t move.

Your body waits for words that your mind doesn’t think it can handle hearing. Something feels so close to breaking and you can’t help but feel like it’s to do with whatever force binds the four of you together.

Art steps forward, closing the distance again, he raises his hands and rests them on either side of your neck, his thumbs pressing onto where your pulse is ratcheting beneath your fragile skin.

“I know he wants you, because the night after he won our match- when he won Tashi’s number- he told me that I should fuck you.”

“Art.” You warn, frustrated tears bringing horrible pressure behind your eyes.

A small group comes out of the dining hall and have to split down the middle, because neither of you move a muscle. Art’s hold tightens, like he’s trying to leave a permanent imprint behind without it hurting you.

He whispers now. “Patrick told me to fuck you. And I know him. He said that because when he couldn't have you, it excited him to think that I would. That I'd tell him about sleeping with you.”

“That was such a long time ago.” You say shakily, coming completely unmoored.

But Art won’t let it go.

“He still looks at you the same way, and that’s not fair to Tashi. You want to protect her, right? Well what will it do her when she finally notices the way her boyfriend is constantly eye-fucking her best friend?”

You hit out against his chest with a closed fist. The shock more than the force makes him stagger back.

“You are so fucked in the head! You and Patrick are both pathetic little leeches who want the same girl, but can’t cope with the way it’s made them realise that they also want each other. You know what? I actually think so much would be solved, if you and Patrick just fucked each other!”

You start to back away and Art darts forward, trying to grab you again, but you smack his hand away and turn your back.

“Leave me alone, Art! And leave me out of your shit!”

He calls out your name with ragged desperation, but he does not follow. And even though he’s truly made your skin crawl, something about that makes you even more furious.

Why won’t he follow you?

Why do you still want him to?

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You hadn’t spoken to any of them since your argument with Art.

You couldn’t cope with the realisation that if any of them ever did feel any desire for you, it was only because they saw you as some sort of vessel through which they could access parts of the person that they truly wanted.

You couldn’t even be said to exist in Tashi’s shadow anymore, you had simply been subsumed by it. Those two men, who you both despised and wanted desperately, would never see you, not really. To them, you were just part of her. But you would not let them ruin your friendship with Tashi. You just wouldn’t.

You knew when you arrived to watch her match that something wasn’t right. She was upset. You could see it in all the minutiae of her: in the way she took off her hoodie, in the way she picked up her racket. Something was really wrong.

You walk through the stands until you come across Art.

There are two free spaces to the right of him, so you sit down on the one furthest away, leaving a gap in the middle for Patrick to take up when he arrives. But then time passes and the match approaches and he still hasn’t materialised.

You feel Art staring long before he makes his move. The air shifts as he shuffles over into the seat directly beside you.

“That seat is taken.” You intone harshly. Your eyes are fixed on Tashi as she prepares.

“If it was, I wouldn’t have been able to sit in it.”

“Sorry, I should have been clearer. I don’t want you anywhere near me, so I want Patrick to sit there instead of you.”

Your name is a tentative as he speaks it. “Will you please look at me? I can’t handle you not looking at me.”

Your gaze remains set on Tashi, she looks up and finds you in the crowd. The furious divot between her brow eases for a moment before her eyes snag on the way that Art is leaning into you. She turns her back on the entire crowd, but you know the gesture is meant for you alone.

Fuck. What the hell had happened overnight? If it was Art’s meddling, you’d kill him.

“The match is about to start.” You say coldly.

Art’s hand lands on your knee, but when you flinch, he immediately pulls it away.

“I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I- I need you to forgive me.”

You grit your teeth at his audacity. “Why do you need me to, Art?”

“Because I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my li-“

The match begins and Art never gets to finish his sentence.

In fact, you don’t speak to him properly for almost a decade after that. Because Tashi gets hurt. Her sporting career ends in the blink of an eye and takes your friendship with it.

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Both you and Art had sprinted down onto the court, your heart breaking in your chest as you fell to your knees beside your best friend, tears gathering in her eyes as she whimpered in pain.

What had hurt the most though, was the way Tashi had shoved your hand away when you had tried to comfort her.

“Don’t touch me!” She had barked on a ragged breath. “Get away from me. Get away!”

The hatred had dripped from her words and landed on you like a corrosive liquid. And as it had burned down to the bone, you had looked at Art and the apologetic agony with which he’d regarded you—even as he’d cradled Tashi’s head in his hands—told you what he’d done.

He’d not only told you about Patrick’s supposed lust for you, but he’d also told Tashi. He had told her that even after her now boyfriend had won her number, he’d apparently been thinking about fucking you. Art had also definitely shared his little insight that Patrick didn’t love her either, which you quickly worked out had contributed to his absence.

So Art got what he wanted: he finally had his hands on Tashi and he’d done it by carving you and Patrick away.

Art Donaldson was an attentive, gentle, even needy man, but you had been so stupid to think that meant he couldn’t also be calculated and cruel. Because of course he was. What else could win the heart of Tashi Duncan but brutal passion? It was part of what she loved about tennis: the unforgiving force of hits that once you met them, somehow felt like affection.

When Patrick had tracked an injured Tashi down, still waiting to be taken to hospital, he had been ordered away by both her and Art.

You knew that because he’d just told you. It was the first thing he’d said to you when you’d let him into your room fifteen minutes earlier.

Now, you were both sitting on the scratchy carpet of your dorm, passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you.

You felt bereft. Your body wracked with sympathetic pain for the grief in your mind. You’d lost Tashi today, you knew that. And the man that had caused it, was a man you’d spent years yearning for.

Art hadn’t only taken Tashi from you, but he’d violently ripped himself away too.

“Art wasn’t lying.” Patrick grumbles after taking another hearty gulp of vodka.

“Please, don’t.” You beg wearily, taking the vodka from his outstretched hand and pressing it to your lips. Not even the burn of the spirit going down your throat registers.

“I wanted- want, both of you. You and Tashi.”

He isn’t drunk, only tipsy, but he’s getting there, and his words are sluggish, laced with fury.

“Shut up, Patrick.”

You fall down onto your back, resting the vodka bottle on your stomach, holding it by the neck as you stare up at the ceiling.

Patrick has been sitting opposite you, but he moves languidly forward, crawling up over your body. He braces one knee beside your hip as the other slots between your legs.

You blink up at him as one of his hands rests beside your head and the other falls over your own where it still holds the vodka bottle. You let him take it from you, placing it beside your body before the hand then moves to rest on the other side of your head.

You’re now trapped beneath him, his lithe body hovering just above yours.

When he leans in, his alcoholic breath almost sears your skin as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Sometimes, when we were fucking I would imagine that you were with us.” Patrick’s teeth nip at your ear. “I asked her once, you know, and she slapped me. Called me a pig. I think she was just mad because she liked having you to herself. You were such a devoted acolyte, kissing the ground she walked on—“

Fury bursts within you like a solar flare, red-hot and ruinous. He was talking about her in the past tense, as if she was dead to both of you already.

Art groans in pain when you knee him in the balls. You use the chance to shove him off you and he falls to the side, knocking the bottle of vodka over.

As you stand up, you feel the alcohol seeping into the carpet at your feet.

“You are a pig.” You hiss down at him.

It’s your room, but you find yourself storming towards the door.

You don’t get far before Patrick recovers, clambering to his feet and easily closing the distance with his long legs.

You groan in frustration as he presses you into the door, one hand above your head and the other wrapping around your torso, his fingers dangerously close to brushing your breasts over your tank top.

“If I’m a pig, why did you let me in?” He pressed his face into your neck and breathes you in.

Some of the vodka has evidently soaked into his shirt, because the scent seizes you with the same violence with which he had. It’s a secondary intoxication.

You words come out weakly, and you hate that it’s because you’re using so much energy fighting the urge to press back into him:

“I felt sorry for you.”

Patrick laughs.

The smug bastard actually laughs right into your skin, the vibrations travelling all the way down to where your body has begun to ache the most.

“Oh, sure.” He coos patronisingly. “It definitely wasn’t because you’ve wanted to fuck me for years.”

You should fight him, but you don’t want to.

You should protest when the hand that he has pressed to the door moves to pull down one of the straps of your tank top. But you simply don’t want to. You want him.

Art had been right about both of you.

No sooner has the thin strip of fabric been removed from your shoulder, than Patrick is clamping his teeth down on the exposed flesh. You yelp in surprise, the pain a burst of sordid pleasure.

Patrick laughs again, the hand he has pressed to your stomach pulling you flush against him. You can feel his need for you pressing into your backside, but in case you had somehow missed it, he bucks his hips up into you.

You gasp and he laughs again, his tongue now running over the aggravated skin where his teeth have left a dent.

“We both know what this is.” He goads.

“And what is it?” You ask teasingly, your head now thrown back and resting against his chest. He groans into your neck as you grind yourself back onto him.

“Inevitable.”

“Are you just doing this to get back at them?” You ask, not daring to speak their names.

An angry grumble you can’t quite make sense of tears out of Patrick’s throat just before he is forcefully spinning you around.

You get barely a glimpse of his feral smirk before he is easily picking you up again and throwing you over his shoulder. The slap he delivers to your ass is punishing and stings furiously as he practically throws you down onto the carpet.

The bed is right next to you, but the asshole apparently wants you on the scratchy carpet and with a wet patch where the vodka has soaked in.

“I’m doing this, because I have wanted to fuck you, from the moment I saw you dancing at that party.”

You’ve barely got your breath back after being thrown about, when he is grabbing your calf and yanking you down so that you’re laying completely flat beneath him.

“But you only ever pursued Tash-“

He cuts you off from saying her name by leaning down and pressing his mouth to your still clothed breast. His tongue swirls over the fabric, your nipple growing pert.

When his knee presses up between your legs, parting them forcefully, your head falls back, strands of your hair wetted by the spilt alcohol.

When Patrick bites down on your chest far too hard, your hand instinctively comes up to slap the side of his head.

You’re so shocked by your own burst of violence that you go still at exactly the same time as Patrick, both of you breathing furiously. When he does peer up at you, his dark curls slick against his increasingly sweaty forehead, menace dances in his eyes.

“Do that again.”

You wish you could have feigned confusion or indignation for even a moment, but your blood is pumping to all the right places to urge you to make terrible, delightful decisions.

Your second slap connects cleanly with his cheek, your palm tingling with the force as his head spins to the side.

Your handprint is already a pink mark on his skin when he wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you up just enough so that he can pull your tank top off and throw it to the side. Your chest is left bare to him and he wastes no time before peppering kisses to your sternum, to your breasts and your neck, his arms still wrapped around you, his nails digging into your back.

The throbbing ache between your legs becomes far too much to bear, so you curl your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug him away from your chest- a bead of saliva stretching between your flushed skin to his swollen lips.

You lean your head forward, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting, pulling at it until he groans pathetically. You let him go, beyond pleased when you don’t have to tell him what you want next.

You don’t want to wait any longer. You haven’t slept with anyone since you met him and Art.

Art.

Is it wrong that as Patrick pushes your back into the carpet and pulls down your sweatpants and underwear in one clean tug, that you close your eyes and briefly imagine that it’s Art instead?

You might have found an answer if you had more time, but when you open your eyes, Patrick is over you, his shorts and boxers already discarded alongside your clothes. His shirt is still on, but neither of you have the patience for the second or so it would take to get it off him.

Patrick smirks down at you before pressing two of his fingers into your mouth, you open gladly, your eyes locked onto each other as he swirls them around. When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers out, and then licks his own hand, mixing himself with you.

He swipes his wet hand over your already slick core a few times before he’s pressing himself inside of you. Your arms curl around his neck as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck.” He groans, his tongue licking up the side of your neck as his hips begin to move.

“Patrick.” You plead, your fingers digging into the nape of his neck.

He knows what you want, nipping at your neck before he is driving into you with bruising force.

In that moment, as you’re joined in the way you’ve wanted since the moment you’ve set eyes on him, you realise thar Tashi isn’t the only person that can make you feel real.

As Patrick drives into you–his lips and teeth leaving marks on your flesh that will be wine-dark by morning, and the horrible fabric beneath you leaving carpet burn on your back– you finally know more than tennis can make you feel alive.

The sex is forceful and punishing, but fuelled by a genuine passion. Nothing but your intermingled breaths and the sound of your joined bodies fills the room.

If the two of you hadn’t been so lost to your pleasure, you might have heard Art knocking on your door. But you didn’t.

He did however hear the two of you, so he walked away.

You wouldn’t speak to him or Tashi again for over ten years.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You weren’t in New Rochelle to compete. You didn’t need to. You were on the top of your game, ranked the third best female player in the world.

No, you were in New York because despite your better judgement-- and the many years that had passed since you’d last seen him--when Patrick Zweig had called you, you’d answered.

You hadn’t heard his voice since you had told him that for your own sanity, you couldn’t see him anymore.

For the two years you had been together after Tashi had banished you both from her life, you had let Patrick consume you. And you had never played tennis so poorly in your life.

You hated what that said about you, that you had willingly discarded someone you had genuinely cared for to improve your ability to hit a ball. But hitting that ball was what kept you alive, not him.

Not only that, it hadn’t taken you long to realise that you didn’t love Patrick enough to let him affect your career.

And yet when he had called, you’d answered. And when he’d told you that Art Donaldson had entered the Challenger as a wildcard, you both knew that you would come.

From the moment you had booked the flight, to the first step you’d taken into the hotel, you had lied to yourself that you were only coming for the closure that you hadn’t received as a twenty year old.

But when you stepped into the hotel lobby and saw Tashi disappearing into the nearby elevator, your self-deception shattered.

You were here because still, after all the time that had passed, you ached for the way that you had felt when she had been in your life. You missed her. And you had missed Art.

It was a sickening truth of your life, that while no one had fucked with your head or upset you as much as Art had ended up doing, no one else had ever been so attentive to you either.

Art had watched you—watched out for you—even when you weren’t playing tennis. In fact, in moments of utter stillness, when you had been doing nothing even remotely remarkable, was when you had always caught him staring. He never shied away, or broke his gaze when he was caught, he’d just smiled as if he wanted you to know he would never feel shame for being found looking at you.

And that had not changed.

You have been sitting at the hotel bar for ten minutes, feeling sorry for yourself and nursing the same glass of gin and tonic, when you feel someone looking at you.

You turn your head cautiously, your shoulders sagging as your eyes meet Art’s. He’s sitting on one of the small leather couches tucked into the far corner of the darkened room.

It had been an inevitability, but things would have been so much easier if you never came across him.

You know you shouldn’t move- part of you had come for closure and you could get that just by watching him compete tomorrow, so you don’t need to talk to him.

But then Art tilts his head and smiles at you like no time has passed and pats his hand on the unoccupied space beside him on the couch.

You get down off the barstool.

As you approach, he watches unflinchingly.

The last time you had heard Art’s voice, was when Tashi had suffered her injury and he’d been permitted to stay by her side when she had ordered you away.

And yet even after so much time, when he greets you with a quiet ‘hello’, the pathetic girl who had pined after him returns.

You don’t respond as you come to a stop right in front of him, the tips of your heels right against the toes of his shoes, but you make no move to sit down.

It’s of course not the first time you’ve seen him since college, or been at the same event, or even in the same room- you’re both highly successful tennis players, you couldn’t help but overlap sometimes. But neither of you have ever allowed yourselves to get close, or to even speak.

It has been over ten years of your eyes connecting through crowds and across rooms that felt much larger than they were, simply because there was distance between the two of you within them.

Art sits forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He’s fiddling with his wedding ring and you can’t bear to look at the familiar way his fingers carry out the gesture.

When he looks up at you, it's so open and wanting that you almost turn right back around. But then you hear his voice again.

“Can I ask you to sit with me?”

“I don’t know Art, can you?”

He smiles, sighing softly as he runs his hand through his hair. It’s short- much shorter than the curls he’d had at college. You like it. It suits him.

You shift on your feet, crossing your arms across your chest to cover up your nerves. Perhaps you can protect yourself if you look like you’re closed off from him and from…whatever this interaction is about to be.

Art doesn’t say anything else, but he surprises you by rising to his feet. You stagger back, but his hand reaches out and lands on your side to steady.

His touch lingers for a moment too long, but he does eventually pull it away.

But he’s still close, too close.

Your hands have fallen to your sides, so it is too easy for Art to reach out and brush his fingers against yours. He doesn’t intertwine them, but he’s doing enough to let you know that it’s what he wants to do.

He whispers your name. “Will you please sit with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Art.”

“When have you ever known me to have one of those?”

You smile ruefully, but take a step back. His hand chases you, his fingers brushing against yours again as he tries to take your hand.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve known anything about you.” You say, hating how sad it sounds.

You should be angry at least. His meddling and his desire for Tashi is what ripped you all apart. And he has her now. They have a daughter together.

He doesn't get to ask you for anything, not even if it’s just to sit with him.

You can’t trust yourself to sit next to him.

“You do know me. Time can’t change that.” He insists, quietly but firmly.

You scoff nastily. “I knew Art Donaldson when he was in college. The world famous tennis player who does AD campaigns for sports cars with his wife, is a stranger to me.”

“Yeah.” Art laughs darkly. “He’s a stranger to me too.”

You frown at him, growing angry. He seems exhausted and down-trodden. He’s clearly hurting and you hate that you know that—you hate that you‘d been able to tell that even from across the bar—because it means that he’s right: you do still know him.

“It’s late, Art. You should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

You turn away from him and while he doesn’t reach for you this time, he does call out. You keep you back to him as he asks his question.

“Who do you want to win, me or Patrick?”

“Tennis can’t decide a victor between the two of you, Art. It’s never been able to.”

When you walk to the elevator, you feel a physical strain as you stop yourself from looking back at him.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You were right, tennis couldn’t decide on a winner: it was as fickle and incomprehensible as the human heart. Which was fitting, seeing as Tashi had always described tennis as a relationship.

You had sat only two places away from her during Patrick and Art’s match, and you know she had seen you. But there had been no reaction, her face had been impassive and set on the court, her eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses.

Now, the match was long over and a result had been given. And yet there hadn’t been a victory for anyone. Just like you knew there wouldn’t be.

Something had happened on that court between the two men, some silent, inexplicable exchange that had altered the very fabric of them.

This time, when Art knocks on your door, not only do you hear it, but you answer.

You feel almost shocked when you pull open the door to reveal him, dressed in a grey t-shirt and flannel pyjama trousers. You’re surprised at the sight as if you hadn’t known he was coming- as if you hadn’t readily offered up your room number when he had messaged and asked for it.

You’re also somehow certain that Patrick had given him your number, but you didn’t want to dwell on what sort of exchange had led to him handing it over.

Without a word, you step away from the door, self-consciously tightening the cord that holds the silk robe around your body. You stop and face the windows.

The curtains are drawn, by you stare forward as though the whole skyline is on display to you.

The door to your room clicks shut.

You hear Art take off his shoes before his feet are padding towards you.

When his arms wrap around your waist, you close your eyes and savour the sensation. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, so you lift a hand and rest it on the side of his head.

“I want to retire at the end of this year.” He says and you can feel his exhaustion in the slow breaths that coast over your neck.

“So retire.” You answer softly, your eyes still on the curtains. “You’re tired.”

You know you don’t need to clarify. Thanks to the grateful press of his lips against your neck, you know he understands what you mean.

Art is weary of all that he has to be when he’s playing tennis; he’s tired of the effort it takes to play the sport for not just him, but for Tashi too. His wife has been living vicariously through him. He’s been living for two people, taking the strain of two professional athletes combined.

You know there had never been any point in competing with Art or Patrick, because Tashi would always love tennis the most.

A shiver wracks your body as Art’s hand reaches for the bow that’s keeping your otherwise bare body concealed from him.

“Can I?” His request is whined into your hair as he presses his face into the back of your head.

Instead of answering verbally, you nudge his hand away and untie the robe yourself. Then, you take hold of both of his wrists and guide his hands onto your skin. You let out a sigh of relief when Art finally touches you the way you want him to.

Your hands are still on him as his fingers move to cup your breasts, but he is the one guiding his movements now. He squeezes, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

“Art.” You rasp, pressing back into him wantonly.

“Can I have you?” He asks, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your neck as he palms your breasts. “Please, let me have you.”

“Stop fucking asking me and just do it.”

You feel him grin against your neck just before he backs away, pulling back your robe and tugging it from your body.

The fabric has barely had time to pool at your feet when he’s grabbing you by the hips, his fingers digging in as he turns you.

When Art’s lips finally claim yours, you moan unashamedly. His kiss is gentle but assured, you struggle for breath as he refuses to release you. Then, his hands are cupping your ass and he’s lifting you up.

With his lips still moving hungrily against yours, Art settles you onto the edge of the bed. When he draws back, your lips chase after him and he smiles, grasping your face in his hands and giving you one more brief but searing kiss before he’s dropping to the ground.

His hands press into your knees, forcing them apart as he begins to kiss and lick up your inner thighs.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching where his mouth ravenously meets your flesh, tracing his path as he works his way closer to where you want him most.

When he reaches the top of your thigh, Art peers up at you through his long eyelashes, already looking drunk on you as he presses another kiss to your burning skin.

“Lay back.” He instructs gently.

But you’re too transfixed to listen- too desperate to see the moment his lips land on your core to look away.

He smiles at the realisation, delighting in your shudder as his tongue darts out and licks a line up your centre.

“Oh my- fuck!” Your head falls back, already lost in the feeling of his mouth's devoted ministrations.

As Art pleasures you, one of his hands skates up your stomach and gently presses down, asking rather than forcing you to lay back. This time you oblige, your eyes closed as your hands fist in the sheets.

“You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

You smile to yourself. Only Art could grovel as he gives so much pleasure.

Tightness begins to coil in your lower belly, but the moment he adds a teasing finger to his tongue’s movements, you realise you can’t wait.

“Art- stop.” You gasp out, sitting up and resting your hands on his head.

He halts immediately but doesn’t remove himself from between your legs.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his hands rubbing soothingly along your thighs.

“It’s not enough.” You say, tugging on his hair, trying to get him to come to you. “I need you.”

Art doesn’t have to be asked twice, but he also doesn’t rush. He presses one last kiss to your now very sensitive folds before he’s climbing over you.

You shuffle back, settling yourself onto the middle of the bed and even as Art takes off his clothes, he watches you. It’s as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he so much as blinks.

Now completely naked, he lays himself over you, his arms braced beside your head. He positions himself so carefully thar it’s almost as though he’s trying to fit himself to the shape of you- every divot and curve perfectly aligned sp that you’ll be fused together forever.

As Art sweeps hair out from your face, his blue eyes bore down into you with an adoring intensity.

You smile up at him and he rewards you by cradling your face in his hands, he lowers his head, his nose brushing yours as he gently takes your lower lip between his teeth.

Only when you understand what he wants and you open your mouth, does he kiss you again, his tongue delving in deeply.

As he seeks to consume you, your hands run down his back, squeezing his sides with your thighs.

Art’s still kissing you as one of your hands reaches the curve of his arse, you dig your nails in and he jolts, his mouth moving away from yours and travelling down your neck.

Tentatively, you move one hand around and down between his legs and when your hand wraps around him, he falters, his kisses stopping.

“Is this alright?”

Art moves again, licking the sweat slick expanse of skin between your breasts.

“Anything you do will be alright.” He assures, his lips brushing a nipple and making your back arch.

“Do you want to have sex, Art?” You ask, barely restraining yourself.

His breaths are hot against your sensitive breasts when he answers. “Please.”

It is a joint effort as he slides inside of you. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he presses kisses into yours.

Art groans as he begins to move achingly slowly, his hips rolling over yours with precision.

You're happy like that for a few minutes, both of you revelling in your closeness after years subjected to absent desire for one another. But eventually, you want more.

You yearn for more force and luckily as you buck up into him, Art gets the message.

As one of his hands moves behind your head, cradling it so that he can keep kissing you, the other wraps around your thigh, and pulls your leg higher over his hip, allowing himself to get even deeper.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says in-between sloppy kisses, moving rapidly as you moan and whine. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”

Even with him inside you, making you feel more desired than anyone ever has, your mind drifts to that first night you had met him. The first night you had met Patrick.

“You stared at Tashi.” You say.

You aren’t accusatory or upset, if anything the acknowledgement if it turns you on more. All four of you have always had a desire for the other, and it feels powerful to finally acknowledge it.

“-That night on the beach, you couldn't take your eyes off her. Neither of you could.”

“I wanted you.” Art asserts with a particularly powerful thrust. “I- I wanted you so badly, but you went home.”

You nod, pulling him in for another kiss as you meet his thrusts.

You understand his thinking. You’d often wondered how things might have changed had you not gone home early that night. If you’d stayed on the beach and then gone to their hotel room along with Tashi.

Entirely content with just moving as one, you both fall silent and somehow Art curls over you even more tightly, like he wants his whole body to hide yours from the world.

After you’ve both found your release he takes you into the shower and cleans himself off of your sensitive skin, each swipe of the washcloth accompanied by a kiss.

It ends up being time wasted though, because when you return to the bed, he takes you twice more.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You wake up with Art’s head resting on your bare chest. He’s laying on his side, one arm stretched out on the pillow above your head and his other hand resting on your hip.

You’re sore in the most pleasant of ways as you sit up. You try to move slowly but Art stirs anyway, his head turning to press open mouthed kisses to your sternum.

You rest your hand on his cheek, meaning to guide him away, but he moves so that he can kiss the palm of your hand instead.

It’s only when you sigh into his touch, his eyes still closed as his other hand delves between your legs, that you realise why you had woken up int he first place.

Someone was knocking on your door.

And then you hear her voice.

Tashi is calling out your name, sounding almost panicked.

“Please, open the door, I know you’re in there.”

This time when you push Patrick away, he obliges, but far less quickly than you would have liked.

In the time it takes for you to throw on your silk robe and gather up all of his clothes from the floor, he has barely got himself to stand up. He’s naked and blinking sleepily at you.

When you shove the bundle of his clothes into his arms, he rushes to press a passionate kiss to your lips, holding the back of your head with his free hand.

You aren’t sure you want to know whether he’s truly still half asleep and genuinely hasn’t realised what is happening, or if he just doesn’t care that his wife is outside the door.

Flushed but furious at his casual demeanour, you push Art into the bathroom and close the door, just as Tashi knocks again.

The repeated request for you to come to the door tumbles from her lips like a prayer.

You brace your hand against the door as you draw in a fortifying breath and smooth out your hair. You swear you can feel her through the door.

The moment you open the door, Tashi is bursting in and closing it behind her. You step back, waiting for her to make the first move, for her to shout of attack or go charging into the bathroom. But she does none of those things.

Instead, Tashi pulls you into a crushing hug. You go still, shocked but healed by it at the same time.

She pulls back, taking your face in her hands.

“You’re a phenomenal tennis player.” Tashi says it rapturously.

If you weren’t burning up at the feel of her hands on you, you might have laughed at how ridiculously perfect it was that those were her first words to you after over a decade.

Tashi communicated and connected through tennis. She loved through tennis.

All you can muster is a very sincere: “Thank you.”

Tashi brushes your hair out of your face, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. You find your hands lifting, resting atop hers where they hold your cheeks.

“You need to let me coach you.” Tashi demands almost possessively.

“I have a coach.”

“They’re not me.”

“No, they’re not.”

And just like that, you were snared again.

You had gone years without any of them, and with one word, you had allowed all three of them back into your life.

Only this time, you know it might actually kill you if any of them leave. And perhaps it would kill them too.

Only time would tell.

#challengers movie #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #mike faist #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #tashi x reader #zendaya #josh o'connor

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theemporium · 3 months ago

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[3.1k] after a spell goes wrong, you and lando are forced to hide the fact that oscar isn't quite himself during media day at the british grand prix. it goes about as well as you would expect ft. mediocre magic, a surprised max verstappen and a cute black cat.

[find other fright night specials here]

There was a lot more to being a witch than people expected.

It wasn’t all hocus pocus, waving a wand and standing around a bubbling cauldron whilst chanting in an ancient language under the moonlight. Don’t get it twisted, that was still a part of it. But there was more than cliches and stereotypes, things were a lot more complicated than reading from a spellbook and swishing a stick around.

It was hard.

Sometimes, it felt like that one subject in school that just never clicked. You were reading the textbooks, doing the homework and listening to the teacher but, no matter what, you couldn’t seem to get it quite right. Sometimes, you would eventually get it.

And sometimes, you were left in situations quite like this one.

Ideally—at least in the eyes of your grandmother—you would have done what every other young witch did at your age. You would have finished school, joined a coven and trained under the watchful eyes of the elders until you had successfully and safely mastered your magic. Upon reaching adulthood, a witch’s magic became more volatile, more unpredictable, more potent. It was vital for her to learn to control it before it overtook her.

Unfortunately for your grandmother’s sake, you didn’t want to settle down in a coven. You wanted to explore the world. You wanted to learn to control your magic through experience, not through old scrolls and grimoires. You wanted to live, not just survive and learn.

You did not want to be chained down by ancient rules and practices.

However, as much as it pained for you to admit it, you kind of wish you had listened to your grandmother around about now.

It was a funny series of events that led you to meet the two Mclaren drivers. It was somewhere during two race weekends a year ago, a meeting that happened by chance but changed the trajectory of all three of your lives. It was instant connections, late nights spent in hotels and a passion that was far from fizzling after your two weeks together were over.

And it bloomed.

You wanted to travel the world and they wanted to show you the world. You wanted to experience life beyond a witch’s expectations and they wanted to share that experience with you. You wanted someone to share your heart with and they wanted to be the ones you trusted with it.

It felt like the planets aligned, the stars shone and the universe worked its magic to help you cross paths with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri. It felt the invisible string of fate weaving its way through your hearts to bring you together, to keep you together, to intertwine your lives to this very point.

And, despite the stories whispered in young witch’s ears about the taboos of humans, Lando and Oscar accepted you for who you were, they loved you for who you were. The tales of humans hating and despising and disapproving of witches were squished by your boys in seconds. In fact, they were your biggest supporters in your journey to learn and control your magic.

Maybe sometimes a little too supportive.

“Oh my god.”

“Lando—”

“Oh my god!”

“Stop panicking!”

“How can I not fucking panic?! Oscar is a fucking—”

“Shhh!” You hissed, slapping your hand over your boyfriend’s mouth before he altered the whole McLaren hospitality. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the bubbling of feeling of ‘oh, I fucked up’ becoming more and more prominent. “Just…calm down for a second.”

Lando let out a squeak of disbelief as he gestured towards the orange cat blinking up at the both of you, sitting in the spot where Oscar had been standing moments ago.

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at the orange cat. “Oscar?”

The cat meowed in response.

“Oh my god,” Lando wheezed, his eyes comically wide. “I can’t believe you turned him into an orange cat. He is definitely more of a black cat, if anything.”

You glared at the Brit. “Oh, sorry, let me just remember that for the next time I turn our boyfriend into a fucking cat!”

Lando’s mouth parted. “Uh, babe—”

“What?”

Lando only nodded back towards the cat, only to find Oscar the orange cat now very much black.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out, the panic starting to resurface.

“Change him back!” Lando hissed.

“Okay, okay!” You rolled your shoulders, eyes narrowing slightly in determination as you stared at the black cat in front of you. “This is fine. I turned you into a cat, I can turn you back into a human.”

“Ideally soon,” Lando added, staring at the cat with a suspicious glare. Like he didn’t quite believe it was really Oscar. “It’s Thursday. The media team is gonna want us to start filming stuff soon.”

So, no pressure.

…

Sometimes, you wondered if your grandmother placed a small, inconvenient curse on you to punish you for not listening to her advice about joining a coven straight after school.

Because that was the only explanation you could come up with behind your horrendously, inconveniently timed bad luck that would be turning one of your boyfriends into a cat on media day of the British Grand Prix—arguably one of the most important for the team and the boys in the racing calendar.

It was a purely unpurposeful accident that led to you accidentally turning Oscar into a cat, but you thought you had a little more skill and experience to be able to change him back with the same ease. However, forty minutes later and three breakdowns later—all from Lando, thank you very much—told you that accidental magic was a lot harder to fix than one would expect.

Or, at least, than you expected.

“This is pointless!”

“Babe,” you sighed but the boy was already pacing the small driver’s room already.

“He’s stuck forever! We will never see that stupid swoop ever again! We will never hear him say ‘Webbah’ ever again!”

“Lando,” you tried again.

“Oh my god, we have to tell Mark! We have to tell everyone! How the fuck are we going to tell everyone?!”

“Lando!”

The boy’s mouth quickly snapped shut, his wide eyes staring back at you as you pushed yourself up from your spot on the couch, crossing the room and gently cupping his face. Your thumbs soothed over his cheeks, feeling him relax a little under your touch.

“Relax, baby,” you whispered softly, your lips twitching upwards as he took a deep breath. “This isn’t ideal but I have messaged my grandmother. She will call back and help us sort out this mess and nobody has to know.”

“What about the team?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowing together. “They are gonna notice—”

“We will just have to cover up until Oscar is human again,” you said with a determined nod. “It can’t be too hard, right?”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Lando nodded. “Except for one minor problem.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Oscar is gone.”

Your head snapped around, expecting to turn and see the black cat curled up where he was less than a few minutes ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the driver room now empty apart from the two of you and the door out to the rest of the paddock somehow wiggled open.

“Fuck.”

…

“If I were a cat, where would I be?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“I’m just trying to get into the mindset of Oscar right now,” Lando murmured in response, his lips turned downwards as he rubbed the spot of his arm you just slapped. “If he’s even Oscar anymore. What if he’s stuck with a cat brain forever?”

You rolled your eyes. “Magic can’t do that. He’s still Oscar. Just…Oscar with very strong cat-like urges.”

The two of you had managed to sneak out of Lando’s driver room without alerting anyone else on the team that something was wrong. None of them questioned where Oscar was, just simply waving at the two of you walking past as Lando panic-babbled some bullshit about wanting to go see Carlos in the Ferrari hospitality to sort out some details for a golf day before the McLaren media team stole them away for the rest of the day.

Fortunately, they bought it.

Unfortunately, it’s a lot harder to look for a cat in a paddock when no one can know you are looking for a cat.

“Should we get treats?” Lando questioned, keeping his voice low. “Or like…a laser?”

“Yeah, because that will be real subtle,” you murmured with a snort.

“We need to get into the mindset of a cat,” Lando said with an odd sense of certainty.

“He would probably be somewhere warm,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look up at the grey clouds starting to cover the sky. “But that's more of an Oscar thing than a cat thing.”

“Oscar did say the other day he was going to hog the tire warmer blankets if the weekend had shit weather,” Lando suggested, his brows furrowing together. “What are the chances he’s just…sleeping there?”

You glanced down at his watch, your frown deepening. “Let’s hope high.”

…

“Pspspsps!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Lando glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Trying to make him feel relaxed, you know? Like we are one of his people.”

You raised your brows, taking in the sight of him crawling through the stacks of tires on all fours before shaking your head, deciding it was easier to just leave it rather than ask any questions.

Your grandmother hadn’t responded to any of the messages, the team were starting to blow up Lando’s phone and the two of you have had to dodge a handful of McLaren employees scouting the paddock for their drivers.

Safe to say your plan wasn’t working the way you intended.

“Oscar!” You called out, crouched down as you joined Lando in searching amongst the tires. “Oscar! Come on! We have fish!”

“Ew, we do?”

You shot the boy a look.

“Uh, yeah!” Lando quickly cleared his throat. “We have a lovely piece of salmon just for you!”

“Fuck, maybe we should have brought some fish,” you murmured under your breath.

“What the fuck are the both of you doing?”

You let out a noise of surprise as your head snapped up, your eyes widening a little at the sight of Max Verstappen standing a few feet away from you. But more surprisingly, the sight of a familiar black cat curled up in his arms.

“Osc—” You winced when Lando nudged your side with elbow. “Cat! You found him!”

Max blinked. “Did you just call him Oscat?”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

“Odd name choice,” Max commented, lightly scratching the cat underneath his chin. “I didn’t know you got a cat.”

“He’s new,” Lando retorted, quickly scrambling to stand up and brush his knees off. “Uh, where did you find him?”

“I heard meowing behind the motorhome and found this little guy trying to puncture some spare tires,” Max grinned, cooing at the black cat. “He’s a menace, isn’t he?”

“Tell me about it,” Lando grumbled before clearing his throat. “I mean, thanks for finding him! But we will take it from here!”

“You should bring him over some time,” Max said as he handed the black cat off to Lando. “Sassy probably won’t like him but Jimmy might—”

The cat let out a god-awful screech before he could be placed in Lando’s arms.

“Bastard,” Lando glared at the cat.

“We’ll think about it!” You quickly spoke up, ignoring Max’s odd expression as you quickly took Oscar in your arms. You didn’t miss the way Lando’s glare hardened when the black cat easily curled into your arms, purring away like nothing was wrong. “But we have to go.”

“Media duties,” Lando supplied with a grim smile.

“Tell Oscar I said hi.”

Lando only hummed, glaring at the black cat once more before the two of you headed back towards the McLaren garage.

…

Lando was pretty sure his team were going to think he had food poisoning again considering he had told them he had needed to go to the bathroom before they started filming.

And the fact that had been forty minutes ago.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Lando muttered, staring at the black cat curled up on his hoodie. Despite refusing to be held by the Brit, Oscar seemed happy to nap amongst his clothes. Lando was trying not to take it personally.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, frowning as you flipped through your notebook. It was no grimoire, but it had little notes and lessons and spells you had learnt over the years. Your grandmother insisted it was pertinent for a witch to record her progress properly, to take extensive notes to pass on to the witches after her. You were starting to see her point now. “Why have I never turned a person into a cat before?!”

Lando paused. “Was that question rhetorical or…?”

You lifted your head to shoot him a look.

“Rhetorical it is,” he nodded, slouching back against the couch. “What if you just abracadabra your hands at him until something eventually happens?”

“Other than the fact that is an incredibly stupid and idiotic idea?” You retorted before sighing, flashing him an apologetic smile at your biting tone. “It wouldn’t be safe for him or me. I don’t know what spell I would be adding onto and we don’t know what effects it could have on Oscar. For all we know, it could make this change…permanent.”

The black cat lifted his head to meow in response.

“He doesn’t seem like a fan of that idea either,” you added, your lips twitching at the way Oscar managed to look so judgemental even in cat form.

“He doesn’t have much of a brain right now,” Lando grumbled, shuffling away when Oscar hissed at him in response.

“Stop antagonising him,” you chastised.

“He’s the one who won’t let me pet him!” Lando huffed in response. “He’s my boyfriend too.”

“Is this about Max holding him?” You deadpanned.

“Yes!”

“Well,” you started, quickly turning back towards your notebook. “In his defence, it was your fault that he got turned into a cat.”

Lando blinked. “How?”

“You were the one who kept pushing me to make you an ice lolly!”

“And you were the one who fucked up the spell!”

“And that was because you kept tickling me—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The room fell dead silent as the three of you stared at the door.

“Lando? Is Oscar with you? The press conference starts in five minutes, you’re both needed right now.”

The Brit turned to you with a panicked look.

“Go,” you whispered with wide eyes. “Stall them. I’ll work on Oscar.”

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I can—”

“Go, we’ll be okay,” you assured him, quickly leaning in to peck his lips. “Promise, baby.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded, swallowing harshly. “I can distract them. I can hold them off.”

That was perfectly possible and capable.

…

It was not, in fact, possible or capable.

The journalists were like vultures the second they realised the second McLaren driver was nowhere to be seen. Lando assumed his presence and the three other Brits on the couch would be more than enough for the media, especially for Silverstone weekend. It turns out he was wrong.

So very wrong.

“Question for Lando!”

The boy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead slumping further back the couch in hopes it would open up and eat him alive. He noticed Alex and George sat to his left, snickering away with their microphones sitting beside them considering they hadn’t been asked a question in the last ten minutes.

“With Oscar out of contention for the weekend, are we to expect McLaren will be focusing on your standing in the championship?”

Lando frowned. “Oscar isn’t out for the weekend.”

“No one has given us a reason for his absence in this conference,” the journalists retorted. “We assumed he was unwell. Do we have reason to believe he isn’t here for another reason?”

Lando bit his tongue.

“He was seen this morning arriving in the paddock,” another journalist added.

“Then I’m sure you saw he was here and well,” Lando said, a fake and forced smile on his face.

“Hey, if you need a driver for that second McLaren,” Alex spoke up as he tried to divert the attention away from Lando—because bless his heart, he is a good friend—after picking up his microphone for the first time in the conference. “I know a guy.”

Lando’s smile felt a little more genuine this time. “Yeah? There’s a few qualifications he needs to meet.”

“Be slower than you?” Alex guessed, a few chuckles breaking out amongst the crowd.

“Yeah, if he could hold everyone back, that would be great,” Lando grinned. “Just swipe everyone out whilst I just zoom off.”

Alex cackled, leaning into George as he shook his head fondly.

“Lando!” A journalist called out and Lando felt his whole body tense up. “Do you think Oscar’s absence shows a lack of commitment to the team?”

Lando could feel his face scrunch up. He knew his emotions were probably written very clearly across his face if the bubbling anger inside him was telling enough. But before he could lift his microphone and say something that would have the PR team sighing deeply at his snarkiness, the door to the conference room slammed open as someone came running in.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Lando’s anger quickly melted away, replaced with something quite like knee-buckling relief at the sight of Oscar settling onto the couch beside him, his cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled on his head. But he was there and he was human and that was all Lando needed to know right now.

At least, he tried to tell himself that as Oscar supplied the journalists with some very vague excuse as to why he was late.

“How?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning into Oscar so the microphones wouldn’t pick up on their voices.

“Grandma messaged back,” Oscar said with a small smile. “She seems confident it worked fine. But she was also three drinks deep into happy hour so, take it with a pinch of salt.”

Lando raised his brows. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, Grandma said there shouldn’t be any lingering side effects,” Oscar assured him, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m fine. Promise. I’ll explain later.”

Lando only nodded in response, shuffling a little closer to Oscar until their knees were nudging against each other. Oscar was there and he was human and he was touching him now, and that was what mattered. He could wait another fifteen minutes before finding out more, before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and muttering about needing to buy a black cat before Max texted him with more questions.

Oscar was fine now and nobody knew the mess they had accidentally created.

“Next question is for Oscar: did you just meow?”

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jjameslily · 4 months ago

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i lost it, but someone made a post recently about what if it had been lily on the staircase and james rushing baby harry upstairs and how it would have changed the trajectory of the story

and now i can’t stop thinking that voldemort would have still given lily the choice to get out of the way instead of killing her outright like he had james and her sacrifice possibly would have protected both james and harry and james would have to live in a world without the love of his life but oh my god harry would have grown up so loved and so protected by his father

and james would have made sure to tell harry at every opportunity just how beautiful and extraordinary his mother was and take him to out of the wizarding world often to make sure harry was connected to the part of his mother’s world that she fought so hard for. not only to provide harry the type of upbringing that lily had wished for, but also so that james could feel closer to her in small bookshops and neighborhood parks and flower stands of local farmer’s markets because even though she was gone, he would spend his whole life loving her and honoring her memory and waiting for the day he could meet her again

#jily #jple #lily evans #james potter #harry potter #hp #im sorry op i hadn’t realized i landed on ‘for you’ and refreshed!!!#but your post has been haunting me!!!!#also pls do not interact with the intricacies of magic #i am just letting my brain run wild with sadness without reason

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lesbianloser69 · 2 months ago

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It’s such a simple thing really, but “do you want me to be alive?” is one of, if not the saddest, things written in the entire world of one piece. Although, maybe thats just because of my soft spot for found family tropes (especially siblings lol)

Ace is just a small little boy here, a fragile thing compared to the character we all know. This is a harsh contrast compared to Ace in his adulthood, where he’s fueled by his ache to prove himself and prove that he’s more than his father. You never would have guessed the reality of his childhood, considering the cheery and almost comedic relief he can be at times.

I guess I kind of expected this, though. Aces hatred for himself and feeling that he doesn’t deserve to be alive was first hinted through his self deprecative jokes, before we ever knew about his past or who he was. I noticed this myself, that through the facade of sarcasm and cockiness there’s just a guy who feels like his life is a burden to all those around him. And what does it all come down to? His blood, the last name that he refuses to bear out of his hatred for the man who gave it its meaning.

Ace going by his mothers last name isn’t just a testimony for his respect and love for her, but also an act of defiance against his father. I don’t blame him lol, but it’s honestly heartbreaking that Ace has no idea that Roger did love him, and Ace died not knowing this.

The result of Rogers actions on the world though basically fucked Ace over for his entire life, and that was what made Roger selfish.. to go and cause a war and then have a son? It’s no surprise that Ace is seen as the child of the devil, because that’s exactly what Roger was seen as.. the devil.

So for all of Aces childhood he’s taught one thing: that his father was the devil, and that he is the child of that monster. That he doesn’t deserve to live, and what’s worse is he has to listen to strangers talk about murdering Rogers son, if he ever had one. He’s barely even lived to know anything, he’s just a baby, and he already believes what the ENTIRE world thinks of him, he’s hated and worthless and a burden. That’s so much for a 10 year old to have to carry alone, and it’s even sadder to see how this causes Ace to be shut off and cold to everyone he meets.

But of course he is.. hearing people talk about murdering him if he did exist (not directly him because no one knows Ace is Rogers son, except Garp and the mountain bandits. Besides, the world believed Roger having a son was a rumor anyway.) doesn’t make his hatred for anyone he meets that unsurprising. For all he knows, they want him dead too.

When Ace meets Luffy, he’s completely baffled that this boy he’s never met before wants to be his friend! How can someone WANT to be his friend? No ones ever been like that to Ace before, except for Sabo. Even after Ace pushes Luffy away, and makes it extremely obvious he hates him and doesn’t want Luffy near him, Luffy doesn’t give up. He’s urgently insistent on being Aces friend.

So…

“You feel better when you’re around me?”

“You need me?”

Ace is almost at a loss for words here. Luffy feels better around him, Luffy needs him. He’s wanted, he’s loved and he’s cared for, someone notices him for more than just a mistake, that is both beautiful and heartbreaking. And back to this panel:

The way ace nervously fidgets with his hands here (I believe he is, anyway) and his head is tilted downwards.. he’s clearly asking something that means everything to him.

“Do you want me to be alive?”

And little Luffy just instantly, without hesitation, says of course is soooo fucking cute and sweet and UGHHHH!!! Luffy is the first person to EVER say he WANTS (fr gotta emphasize on the want) Ace to be alive. This changed the trajectory of Aces life forever.

I guess I’ll stop here but there’s so much more I could talk about and say.. but Ace and Luffy are very special to me

my small babies☹️

#portgas d ace #one piece #one piece ace #monkey d. luffy #ace one piece #straw hat luffy #luffy and ace #asl brothers #one piece marineford #marineford #post war #analysis #writing #one piece analysis

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year ago

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just one more*

warnings: soft smut, breeding, overstimulation

summary: in which yn is ready for a baby and harry can’t get enough

pairing: nhl player harry x reader

masterlist | taglist

“h?” yn questions, looking up at him from her spot in his lap on the couch as they watch the movie playing on the screen before them. he hums in acknowledgment before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i wanna have a baby, ‘m ready now,” she informs him, and harry swears his heart stops.

“yeah? y’wanna have my baby?” harry questions, trying to contain his excitement at what his wife has just said to him. “y’gonna let me make you a mama?” he’s smiling ear to ear with tears in his eyes as she nods enthusiastically.

harry wraps his arms around her before lifting the two of them up and hurrying toward the bedroom, yn letting out a shocked laugh at how quickly the trajectory of the evening changed. he hurries and places her on her feet beside the bed before pulling her into him to press his lips to hers. he kisses her so passionately and for so long that her heads begins to feel floaty, her body melting into his as his tongue gently explores her mouth.

when he finally pulls away, the both of them are practically bursting with emotions and love, their eyes burning into each other’s for just a moment, a silent communication of how their lives will change after tonight.

he, once again, makes the first move, quickly but gingerly helping her out of her clothes and onto the bed before doing the same for himself. climbing atop her, he rests his weight on his elbows before capturing her lips again, getting as close to her as he can without crushing her. as their kisses grow more desperate, he begins to grind his hardened cock against where she’s begun to get wet for him, feeling the warmth of her and instantly becoming addicted.

“are y’ready for me, angel?” he whispers against her lips, trying to keep some sort of restraint as he awaits the green light. she nods, whining against his lips. “need your words, angel. please.”

she pulls away begrudgingly. “yes, please give it to me,” she whines, her hips bucking up to meet his. he does so immediately, reaching down to line his cock up with her awaiting hole before inching in slowly, a collective sigh of relief leaving them when their hips finally meet. the feeling of having each other bare is like no other. she instantly wraps her legs around his waist as he begins to move sweetly inside of her, keeping him close as he hits that spot inside of her that makes her feel dizzy.

the sound of their skin meeting with each thrust of his hips accompany the sounds of her moans of pleasure and his pants as he tries to keep things slow. she feels so good he knows he won’t last, so when he feels himself getting close pretty quickly, he brings his hand between them once more and places two fingers on her swollen clit before rubbing gentle circles around the slick head. “need you t’cum for me, i won’t last. need to feel you, mama. come on,” he encourages.

the combination of the feeling of him inside of her and on her clit, plus the new pet name send her over the edge with a cry of his name, bringing him with her. his hips stutter when she clenches around him and he cums with a sob so loud that it startles her for a moment as she fears something is wrong, but then she feels the slight shake in his lower half before she’s being warmed from the inside. he’s twitching inside of her as he floods her with his cum, his hips pressing tightly against her before he’s pulling out a bit and repeating the action.

tears are streaming down both of their faces as they ride out the intense highs, but yn soon realizes that he isn’t slowing down as much as usual, preparing her for when he inevitably pulls out of her. his sobs of pleasure haven’t stopped, he’s overstimulating himself with each movement but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. she can obviously take much more than he can and so the feeling is still very pleasant for her, and she’s removing her legs from his hips to allow a slightly deeper angle.

“mama, i- fuck, just need to fill y’up one more time. so close, please, need just a little bit more, gonna fill you up,” he’s rambling through choked sobs as he just continues to rut his hips into hers, feeling her clench around him again to signal another orgasm from her as well.

she’s pliant underneath him as he continues to wreck her sensitive walls, her eyes practically glued to the back of her skull when he lifts her leg a bit to get even deeper inside of her, nudging her cervix just enough that it’s painful but not unpleasant.

“so deep, don’t stop please, need it,” her words are whiny and quiet, choppy as she struggles to even speak with how he feels inside of her.

pressing his face into her neck, he presses gentle kisses on the damp skin there as his hips begin to stutter once more. “angel baby, gonna cum again. gonna give you my baby, stuff you full,” he gasps, his balls drawn up tight as he tries to lean into the intense feeling. it’s so much that he feels like he needs to pull out but he can’t, his body taking over as he starts to pulse against her walls. “cmon, mama. cum for me and i’ll give you my baby, please, i can’t take it angel.”

his sweet sweet noises and the feeling of him twitching inside send her over the edge with a choked cry, her back arching as she milks him for what he has left to give. she’s so tight around him that he can’t even move as he fills her once more. the smallest sobs of pleasure leave his lips while he empties himself in her,

he goes to pull his sensitive cock from her still twitching walls, but before he can move even an inch he’s whimpering and sliding back into her. “no, no. can’t have any going to waste, just wanna stay like this for a while.”

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thefusioncelestial · 2 months ago

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Mix 5: The Rich Bear

Here is Tyler:

Nature boy disguised as park ranger. Very out doorsey, loves camping, and an astrologist. Apparently, the lack of light pollution, many night shifts in the woods will introduce you to the stars. And he wrestles bears, races with the deer, swims with the fishes, and lord knows what he does with birds. Sings with them? Basically the Avatar of the Park. And in all his time as a park ranger, poaching has gone down to zilch in his nature reserve.

And then there is John:

The city boy. You would think he was a typical rich play boy. But its an act. When you are put together & don't have to work a day in your life, a lot of people want to use you to get to that status. He spends his waking hours funding charitable causes through art auctions. Yes, the fake play boy has an artist side. Very good for fashion tips too.

They both know each other. They hated each other in high school. Something about being rivals io the same basketball team back in the day. The clashing energy pushing their team to win state every year until graduation. They started out at different colleges. But depending on who you ask, they followed or stalked each other because they ended up at the same uni for the actual undergrad work.

Tyler studied Zoology. John, Fashion Design. And despite not sharing a single class, they ended up at the same club: Scuba diving. The experience inspired them in different ways, and before graduation, they buried the hatchet. They made a promise. If they were not married in five years, they would meet up at a certain park at its main pavilion. This wasn't a marriage proposal, they just were curious on how two different life trajectories could lead to the same resort of being single.

John could have married anyone. He was well liked, well known, and never struggled for a thing. His relationships just ended when he found out their motives or at least his perception of such. His money. One scheme was marriage, divorce, and then a rich alimony. Another, she didn't need to marry him, just get her pregnant. He hoped Tyler was having a better time...

But Tyler never tried. He put his full focus into animal related work, and found he could do the most good as a park ranger. He liked the outdoors too. He could be a bit much, at least once or twice or week, he would go out working shirtless. Something about a better connection to life. Thank god he didn't turn into one of those online life gurus. He figured John would have baby mommas all over the city by now. The ladies were al over him in Uni. A new girlfriend every week. Tyler shuddered at the child support payments. Especially once the court knew he was loaded.

And that was the life, avoiding baby traps, and snapping bear traps, but eventually that date came closer.

At first neither of them were going to show up. What are the chances they both messed up? But they went anyway. A change of environment helps anyone no matter the settings.

Knotfield Park. A giant hilly grass land with pavilions on selected hilltops. The one this pair aimed for was the biggest one in the middle. John came in a Mercedes-Ben, & Tyler a park ranger truck.

They both arrived at the pavilion at the same time. They were both surprised.

"Uncommitted Playboi," Tyler blerted.

"Senator Moosefarts," John responded.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before they both broke into a smile and hugged each other.

John started. "Who knew we striked out unlucky. A rich boy with nothing to do, and a nature boy living it up with bears."

"How did you know? Were you spying on me?" Tyler asked.

"Word got around that the God of the Wild emigrated to the US and I investigated. Come to find out, it was you being you. No matter how much you hide from the world, it finds you. Maybe we should switch lives..", John said, ending in a sad tone.

"All I got is money. Doesn't lead to healthy foundations in the relationship department," he exclaimed.

"Bears scare off the ladies you know." Tyler quipped.

"So what now?" he asked.

"You know I work in auction houses right? So, I get a peek at a lot of stuff with a lot of history. Snagged one for this occasion. It's ~~~Magic~~~." John said enthusiastically.

Tyler remembered that John was into supernatural stuff when he was in high school.

"How is a magic item going to fix our problems? Is a genie's lamp? First wish: never ending apple pie.." Tyler licked his lips.

"Haha, no. A magic mirror. One from ancient Mesopotamia." John Said.

"Historical trash. We going to admire ourselves into a new future?" Tyler said sarcastically.

"Moosefarts, the mirror works as a fortune telling device. You put a piece of your own hair on the polished surface and point it to the stars, and it illuminates the way."

It was now night time. The stars clear in view.

"Let's try it." Tyler said.

"Oh?" John said in confusion.

Tyler already cut off a piece of his hair to put on this mirror. John quickly did the same.

"Why at the same time, Playboi?" Tyler asked.

"Why not." John responded.

He pointed the mirror at the sky. Nothing a happened.

"Maybe you are doing it wrong, Maybe the stars don't give enough light. Point at the moon," insistently said by Tyler.

"Someone is a bit excited by my expensive trash." John Smiled.

He tried the moon, and then the etchings around the mirror glowed. Both Tyler & John could read it for some reason, and they both said

"Two paths, under the moon, converge as one. The source of life, a river."

The mirror's polished surface glowed brighter and brighter until they were both glowing. A light path formed from their feet forming two light roads. Leading to the nearby forest.

"You see what I am seeing?" John asked.

"Yes." Tyler responded.

Tyler trusted his instincts and started following his path.

John hesitated, and then following Tyler's example to not be outdone, followed his.

After 30 minutes, they were in the middle of the woods. Skinny trees, it was fall time to, so not much foliage blocking the way. A lot of brown leaves on the forest floor tho.

Their paths eventually converged, a figure cloaked in light was at the convergence point. They couldn't make out any features except it being humanoid shaped.

"Do yo trust me, John?" Tyler asked.

"This time sure, I got you into this." John joked.

They both walked closer. But as they did. They became enamored by this being. They never stopped walking, and soon they were up real close to it. And yet they didn't stop. They were inside the glowing figure. John half way on one side, Tyler the other. Was it a hologram?

Just then, the light exploded and the two best friends were jerked forward. They smashed against each other & then turned into light particles. They floated for a bit and then swirled around the glowing figure.

The swirling lights that was once John & Tyler converged inside this light being in waves, smashing into it. Each time, the light being gained distinguishing features and became more solid, the light glowing dimmer.

The first wave: The humanoid being was now a skeletal frame surrounded by light.

The second wave: the nervous and vascular system started growing like vines and grew around in and the skeletal frame. A brain was forming.

The third wave: organs and & muscles were formed. It looked like one of those life sized cadaver models of the body without skin.

The fourth wave: Blood starts pumping and skin is formed.

Mentally, John & Tyler were confused. They were inside this light being & at the same time swirling around it.

The fifth wave: They understood. The light being was them. Both of them. In a sense they met their future self and he used the past to bring himself to the present. They were broken down into light and used to make him. Their destiny was to become one and chart a new future. Strangely, they excepted this. Life always brought them together. Maybe that was the hint that they were one being in two bodes. And now they shall be whole.

They gave in. Their minds were broken apart and put back together as one mind.

The sixth wave: John & Tyler's dna was mixed together and added to being. With this set of new instructions, the generic body began to morph.

Tyler's physique was used as the template. The skin tightened & etched Tyler's features the neck down. Loud stretching noises were produced. The biceps bulged out and the shoulders & pecs grew with a popping noise, but John's physique was added as well, and the H body shape was more fleshed out, like being pulled from both sides from the waist. The skin was fighting against this and so he became more cut, and his veins became more visible.

John's face was used as the template. The features morphed to copy John's but soon Tyler's characteristics had their say in this. The eyes became more sunken, the lip color more towards the skin tone. The ears moved to be more like Tyler's. When it came to hair, it was short cut like John's but darker like Tyler's. John's hairline won out, but Tyler's eyes would be used. Tyler's jawline and chin would win out, but John 's potential for facial hair gave him a lowkey grizzled look. The chin was a combination of both, long & thick.

Tyler's ass would form on it, and in the front, John won out. He was well endowed and needed no upgrading. Like his chin, his jewels would get hairy. But Tyler had better leg days from being out in nature, but it would use John's feet. Though for this new being its leg muscles got bigger and stronger than Tyler's, thanks to John.

Throughout this process, he would not make a sound. No moaning, no grunting. The only noise being made was from his body forming. He would find that he had a high pain tolerance.

The Seventh wave: It was shirtless like Tyler likes to be, but it had John's denim jeans.

The final wave: Their life force was added. The light built up again and let out a quick, but bright flash. He was alive. He slumped to the ground and began breathing air. His lungs sucked in the oxygen like a pair of black holes.

Who was he? This was the true final step. The name he chose would solidify the merger of the best friends, there would be one mind going forward. Just say who you are.

He stood up and opened his eyes:

I am James. His jeans became unbuttoned. He fixed that. He would need to get some new clothing.

What does he do in life? Run's charities to fund wildlife refuges. He spends his life between city & nature. James felt a sudden rush of confidence. It was his Tyler half pushing away what kept John from forming relationships: a fear of commitment. He knew someone, Analise. And with John helped push away Tyler's social anxiety. He kept his love of nature but would not selfishly keep that to himself. And with John's money, he could hire a team of new park rangers to protect Tyler's old park. He would still wrestles bears, race with deer, swim with the fish, and lord knows what he does with birds. He would just not do it alone anymore.

#male merge #body merging #merging tf #male fusion #fusion #thefusioncelestial #male body transformation #male transformation #merge #musclegrowth #muscle #muscular #male body merge

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eggrollforyou · 1 month ago

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How Can I Say I Love You

Law x F!Reader

WC: 1467

CW: angst to fluff, parental/parental figure loss, tooth aching fluff, minor Law backstory spoilers (if you're not caught up through Dressrosa), seems like an OC but I'm too lazy for that, so leader insert 🤣, mutual pining, post time skip

A/N: this was supposed to be a quick, cute thing, but that clearly got away from me. So I’ll be turning it into parts. Still cute, but apparently my brain had something else in mind. Readers and Law’s thoughts are in italics. Enjoy!

Three little words. Just three little words that seemed to hold so much weight, they'd change the trajectory of everything. Three little terrifying words that could mean the end, if unrequited.

Far be it from Law to understand how the combinations of chemicals and electrical signals in the brain could have such a profound effect. He's known its highs but has experienced far more of its devastation. Was he cursed? Never able to express what he wanted to with you.

He first met you when you were both children. He, on the search for a cure for his disease with Corazon. You, another sick child, at one of the hospitals he was dragged to. “Hi, I'm (Y/N),” your small voice broke through the background buzz of the hospital chatter. Law turned around to see you sitting on the other side of the room, electric teal blue hair with a white streak framing your face. “Hmmph, yea, so what?” he grumbles indignantly. He hated hospitals. He was grateful for Cora-san to try to help him, but it was going nowhere. He pulled his knees into his chest and sulked while Corazon argued with the physician. “Are you sick?” you ask him, unphased by his grumpiness. Maybe that's why he's acting upset, maybe he just doesn't feel good. He must be sick like me, you think to yourself. “I'm sick too,” you get up to come closer to talk to the grumpiest little boy you've ever encountered and suddenly you fall to your knees in a coughing fit, unable to breathe.

Law peeks his eyes over his knees, dark under the brim of his spotted hat, but showing concern that he quickly changes to a scowl, “You really shouldn't cough close to other people like that, you could get someone else sick,” he sneers. You finally regain your breath and sniffle. You were so tired of being here, no one to play with or talk to. Your mom had to work all the time to make ends meet and couldn't afford to take time off to be with you while you were admitted for treatment.

So you spend your days alone with only nurses coming to check on you every couple hours. Your eyes were watering from the pain in your chest, but you continued, “I'm sorry. It's just SO boring here.” Law suddenly notices that you're alone. There's nothing to indicate an adult with you. It's just you and a stuffed bear that was nearly falling apart from living a loved life. “I-I'm Law,” he mumbles. “Nice to meet you, Law!” your face lights up. “Wanna play tic-tac-toe?” you ask, picking up a piece of paper and a pencil. He begrudgingly agrees and scoots over to you. You play several games until suddenly, you hear screaming from hospital staff and a tall blonde man with a heart shirt and big black coat runs, scooping Law up and running away. Hospital staff screaming about Amber Lead disease and quarantines as they chase them. Suddenly, you were alone again.

It seemed like fate that you both found each other again as teens. You were walking to the beach with your fishing rod. It was just you now. You woke that morning, hunger eating away at you. It had been a couple days since you ate. Managing to steal a fishing rod from a boat at the docks the day before, you got up to fish. You need to try your luck again. Whistling as you walked along the shore trying to reach a rocky outcrop that would let you cast further out, hoping to catch something, you grabbed your belly as it screamed its displeasure at you.

Law, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were walking along the shore, trying to figure out where their next stop would be. Rounding a dune, he sees a girl walking with a fishing pole. Electric blue teal hair, pulled back in a braid with a white streak weaved in and out of the braid. Wait….who is that? I know that hair….could it be? he thinks to himself.

“Y/N?!” you hear someone call your name and you whip around looking for the source until you see that white spotted hat that you'll never forget. The same hat from that grumpy little boy in the hospital. “Law?!” You shout in surprise. He's not alone. In tow, he has a Mink companion, and two other boys- one with a penguin hat and the other with an orca hat. Law introduces you to his little band of misfits and you spend the rest of the day catching up.

The others are asleep, but you and Law are still talking. You shed a tear that night when Law tells you Cora is gone. You never knew him, nor did you see their relationship, but you could see the hurt in his eyes. Even in the dim light put out by the campfire you're sitting by. Losing your mother, you knew the heavy feeling in your chest when you thought about her. “You should stay with us, we could always use the extra help,” he says with hope. “Yeah, that'd be great,” you smile back. Finally feeling some peace that your nights won't be so lonely. You travel with them for a couple years. Spending your days together on the loose, running wild, doing whatever you had to, to survive. You both would stay up in the early hours of the morning. Lying down looking at the stars, talking for hours holding hands, sharing your first kiss. You were inseparable. You loved that he found family again in Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. His heart had been through far too much, but he opened it for them. It made yours hurt less for him.

Those three little words. He felt it then with you. But his heart had been too broken, so he kept it guarded and close. Fearing what would happen to it if he uttered those words to you. Something he later regretted when you were separated again- on the run with no plan to regroup. A heist to survive, gone wrong. Law and the others managed to get to the boat you were stealing on time, but you were held up. Getting separated and then later caught by authorities. By the time you escaped, they were gone. You knew they had to leave. It hurt, but you couldn't blame them. You feared this was the end of your time with Law again. Ending abruptly like when you two met.

One of his biggest regrets was never telling you how he felt. Now he feared he would never get the chance. But it seemed the universe had different plans again. Law and his crew, the Heart Pirates, were restocking on an island- a simple routine stop. He surely wasn't looking for trouble as he was walking through the market, perusing the stalls brimming with vendors and customers alike. It was a busy morning, loud with laughter and bartering, but Law had his fill of the market. Having found a rare coin, he pocketed his purchase after paying the vendor. Making his way back to the ship, the voices grew quieter the further away he walked. He gave the crew the afternoon off, but as the captain, he had a pile of work to do. More reports, endless medical journals to read, he had a plan to start a pot of coffee and sit down in his sanctuary, his office on the Polar Tang.

The quiet abruptly ended and suddenly shouting and scrambling was coming from the market. “Stop her! Stop that thief!” a vendor screamed. Law merely peeked over his shoulder but didn't stop, it was none of his concern. As he rounded a corner leading to a bay where they were hiding the Tang, he was suddenly stopped. A woman running around the same corner slamming into his chest and bouncing back, “AHH! SHIT, watch it!” She bellowed. Law nearly stumbled over, with a scowl, ready to tear this person’s head off, he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. He's face to face with a woman with electric teal blue hair….with the signature white streak framing her face. “Y/N!?” He gasps.

Your eyes are wide, you're stuck frozen in place. Law…. he's right here. In front of you again. But now, he's all grown up. You hardly recognize him. Tall, filled out, covered in tattoos it seems. You can only tell by his signature hat and his same tired, piercing eyes. “Gotta go!” you rush, spinning on your heel, carrying a bag of loot of things you clearly stole from the market and running toward the tree line along the path. Law reaches out, “Wait!” he calls out as he runs after you.

Thanks for reading! I'm pretty happy with this portion and am currently working on the remainder of it, but because my brain won't let me post anything less than what it perceives as perfect, it'll have to wait!

Tags: @shy-writer-999

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece angst #one piece fluff #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar op #trafalgardwaterlaw

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emlovessid · 9 months ago

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@jegulus-microfic may 2, delight, 472 words for @pupmotif <3 may our love story live on forever

When he looks back on it in years to come, it’s hard to believe that this all began in an online server with just a simple message, a message that would change the trajectory of both of their lives forever.

But what starts as just one message, becomes another, and then another until Regulus finds himself pavloved into smiling whenever he hears the telltale ding of a notification. James’ messages become such an integral part of his day to day, an endless stream of I just spilled my coffee, this is the worst day ever and nevermind, I just saw a squirrel to why are you online, shouldn’t you be asleep and pot calling the kettle black, we’re in the same timezone, idiot.

When James tells him that he’s going to be in town for a concert, the very same concert that Regulus himself is going to be at, Regulus is perhaps a little too eager in agreeing to meet up.

“Hi,” Regulus says, eyeing up the James standing in front of him compared to the James he’s only ever seen through his phone screen.

“Hi.”

“You’re taller than I thought you’d be,” he blurts out, which makes James laugh, and it’s all over for Regulus then.

If he thought his obsession with James was bad before, it’s nothing compared to this. Now that he knows what his laugh sounds like face to face, what his body feels like pressed against his as they hug, what he smells like where Regulus has his nose tucked into his chest, he’s not sure that words on a screen will ever be enough for him again.

“Is it crazy that I miss you, when we’ve literally only met for five minutes?” James says one night on a voice call.

The delight he feels at James’ words hits Regulus square in the chest where he’s lying on his side in bed, his phone on loud speaker on his pillow beside him.

“If it’s crazy, then I’m crazy too,” Regulus whispers.

What’s perhaps more crazy, is flying across the country to go to a concert with someone you’ve met literally once for barely more than a conversation. But here Regulus is, after months and months of messages and phone calls and the phantom touch of a hug Regulus wishes he could live in forever, standing at a train station in James’ home city.

The world seems to slow down when he sees James through the crowd. Regulus is about to make a joke that he can’t believe they actually went through with the matching t-shirts, but James doesn’t break his stride for even a second as he steps right into Regulus’ space, hands coming up to cradle his face between his hands as he pulls him into a bruising kiss.

Maybe it’s not so crazy after all.

#a love letter to discord and fandom friendships <3 #still posting this even though you threatened to kill remus </3 #jegulus #jegulus fic #marauders #sometimes i write things

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khunyuki · 7 months ago

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚊. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Synopsis: To Hoshina Soshiro, it was a feeling of love not at first sight but even before he met her, he knew he loved her. To Uzui Kagami, he was her hopes and dreams came true and learned to love him since. From childhood until adulthood, they've been together. Witness their romance from the past! A bond that can never be broken so easily for it is formed by the culmination of time.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: I am posting this first because I thought it would be better to show their good relationship first than the planned main story. Soshiro is down bad for his fiancee.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Childhood Sweethearts, School Romance

Masterlist: TOC, Next

One of the happiest days in Uzui Kagami's life was the day, she and Soshiro became engaged as children. During her earliest memories, she absolutely adored her parents' relationship and dreams to have the same once she got older. To her surprise, a visit to some place other than her house changed the trajectory of her life! Why? Because her dream has finally come true! At least half of it did.

From that moment onwards, she would often visit the Hoshina estate to train with them and be with her fiance. Poor Kagami was so shy that despite this being what she wanted, she couldn't even bring herself to come near him, satisfied with just watching him from afar.

Kagami would hide behind a pillar or a wall and watch the Hoshina brothers train, with her eyes on Soshiro and Soshiro only. She would admire his skills, his looks, his growth, and his persistence. Not that she could tell him that, she couldn't even be in the same room as him without clamming up.

For the first few weeks of introduction, she would gaze at him from afar until his older brother could no longer handle it. Soichiro-niisan dragged her out of her hiding spot like a wet kitten and placed her on the sidelines to observe closely. She tried to run away but ultimately failed from his tight grip.

"Kagami-chan, you don't have to peek from afar when you could just watch here"

Soichiro-niisan tried to smile softly in order to calm the girl he just dragged over. But all it did was to make her cower and fidget uncomfortable while looking down.

"Don't bully her, nii-san"

Soshiro, with his two bamboo swords, hit his brother with their swordstyle mercilessly.

"Ouch! Wait! Soshiro! I'm sorry so please stop already!"

Having been caught off guard with no weapons, Soichiro would've accept his hits if it didn't hurt so much. It was rare to see this side of his brother, after all.

Once he stopped, only then did Soshiro turn to look at Kagami. She had long since stopped cowering and was now admiring him. Was he her prince charming or her knight in shining armor? Maybe both, cause him saving her made her like him even more.

"You can just stay here and watch"

He said so coolly with much composure and returned to his training. Kagami could only blush, trying to hide how giddy she was feeling.

As a child, Hoshina Soshiro didn't bother to understand what his family were talking about if it wasn't related to training or kaijus. He would attempt, yes, but his young brain still isn't able to comprehend it well.

They said something about an engagement between him and someone he will meet that day. He doesn't mind if it's something his parents decide for him. Arranged marriages are common like his older brother who already has a fiancee too.

It truly dawned on him from the moment his eyes laid on a particular shy girl that just entered the room. She was hiding behind her father but would peek out several times. He could only catch glimpses of her but he could already feel the pounding of his heart.

It was weird. He never experienced such having his heart beating so fast when resting. Was it because she reminds him of a squirrel, so cute and fidgety? He didn't know but when their eyes met, it felt like arrow shot through his heart.

It was love at first sight.

Soshiro was blushing madly for the very first time and his older brother doesn't help at all with all his teasing. Maybe it was the commotion that his brother was making that set their engagement in stone.

Cause when Kagami looked up from her bow, he was already avoiding her eyes. Especially once he saw her hopeful face and sparkly eyes. It struck a critical hit to his heart.

From that moment onwards, he would see her around the estate. She would sometimes be training on the dojo or watch him and his brother train from afar. Whenever she's watching, he couldn't help but take glimpses of her causing him to be distracted and lose cue his older brother's teasing.

As much as he wanted to look cool, he couldn't really do it after losing to his brother, can he? The saving grace for him would be when his brother picked her up and put her down next to him. It annoyed him when he did so cause how could his brother touch his fiancee like that. Soshiro was able to look cool by 'defending' her from his brother.

Be that as it may, it was truly bad for his young heart to have her around him like this. How could he remain calm when she's been staring at him the whole time. If he did talk to her while looking at her face, he can't guarantee not stuttering in front of her.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 5~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It didn't take long for the two of them to be close enough to feel comfortable with each other's presence. They could just sit on the porch without talking and they're already content with it. Occasionally, they would spar until it became a bonding moment just for the two of them.

Most of their progress was all thanks to Soichiro-niisan who decided that it was his duty to be as meddlesome as possible in his brother's lovelife. He, not only would egg on his little brother by calling him weak, but also tease him in front of his crush. It contributed to the explosive growth of Soshiro when his task is to keep his older brother's mouth shut tightly from embarrassment.

Soshiro would continue to lose over and over again but demands to have a rematch even if it meant having tantrums in front of Kagami. He knew he was losing face by doing so but he atleast wanted to look cool yet his brother kept denying him of that.

Much to Soichiro-niisan's surprise and pleasure, his taunts did not only work on his little brother but also his little sister-in-law. As clueless she may be, she could tell if the words being said were an insult to her fiancee. Kagami would bring out her meanest look and glare at her big brother-in-law.

During those times, Kagami would scold him for bullying his little brother and say that Soshiro is the best swordsman in the world despite being so young and he could beat him because he's always been working hard and putting in effort more than anyone else. It would only be at the end that she realizes that it was all a bait from the smirk on his face as he leave the two blushing figures alone.

It still took a while for them to be close enough to make eye contact with being a mess. But atleast they got to talk to each other as a result.

To Hoshina Soshiro, it was the beginning of something new.

To Uzui Kagami, it was the start of her dream come true.

It was the age of innocence where seeds have been planted, not knowing what kind of fruit it will bear.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 7~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two years after their engagement, they were now a bit more mature yet still childish. They understand that they have duties to perform and live up to expectations of the adults. Such burdens, when introduced to children was a lot of pressure to say the least.

Soshiro acknowledging to himself that he is a reject compared to his perfect brother. Only his persistence to wield the sword was his salvation.

Kagami having to face countless trials not knowing that it might never end in the pursuit of perfection. In hopes of being acknowledged by her family despite her grief.

Just last year, Kagami's mother died along with her unborn baby brother. It was an unfortunate incident where a kaiju appeared near the hospital on the day of her checkup and they got caught in the aftermath. Ever since then, her father became a different person along with her other clan members.

The shift in the atmosphere was so obvious that even Kagami, as dense as she is, could feel it. She was restricted from visiting the Hoshina estate in order to prepare herself as the sole heir to the head of the clan. Many times she wished to run away but she couldn't do so because whenever she got caught, more punishment would just await her.

Her solace was when the Hoshinas would come to visit. They would dress her up and tell her to smile and act like nothing happened to not disgrace her family any further. In which, she does so without question cause just meeting her fiancee was enough for her.

Soshiro felt a pleasant surprise with how Kagami welcomed him to her home with much excitement but maybe that was just him missing her as it has been a long time since they last met each other.

As they were given the time to be alone, he knew that it was an act shown to the people around them. Only with him does she show her real face, as does he. Their comfort is with each other, comrades in their struggles at their young age.

In the place where Hoshina Soshiro believes that he is a reject, to Uzui Kagami he is perfect just the way he is.

In the place where Uzui Kagami has to be perfect in every way, to Hoshina Soshiro her imperfections are part of her charms.

The seeds have been nurtured and sprouted, taking root into the deepest pits of their hearts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 13~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Middle school is the place where young teens start to experience such things called hormones. Spring is the moment of encounters but it is also the season of love.

Kagami doesn't think that being in middle school would change anything as it is just a small part of her life. She didn't think it was as important as her life back at home. That's what she try to tell herself because it's been over a year and she never had any friends yet.

It doesn't matter does it, she thought. But in reality, she blames her shy personality and being an introvert for making her lose out on things. Her pessimistic attitude doesn't help as it only makes things worse.

Hormones were the worst thing ever as it developed her body in the most uncomfortable ways like the sudden growth of her chest and the hellish pain of losing blood on a monthly basis. It also messes up her mind by giving her complicated thoughts and the sudden influx of emotions was enough to make her crazy as she has to act like nothing is happening.

There was one thing she believes in though. Love. It was something she already experienced herself and will continue to do so in the future. This age only gives her fantasies of what she wants their relationship to be like if she gets the courage to make a move.

"What are you thinking to make you smile like that?"

Soshiro asked as he long put down his book in order to observe her. Since when? She didn't know but being caught in the act itself was enough to make her feel embarrassed.

"I-It's nothing!"

While she tried to cover her face with the book on her hands, Soshiro pretended to think by placing his thumb and index finger on his chin before he revealed a mischievous grin.

"Were you... Thinking about me? Even though I'm right in front of you?"

Hoshina Soshiro struck a homerun! If only the ground could swallow her whole so that she could hide, but there is no hole to hide inside the library. She had to settle with pressing the book closer to her face as that's the only way she could hide.

"You're so cute~"

Soshiro chuckled with his eyes open as she fidgets around and didn't know what to do. Can a human being possibly melt? Cause she's combusting so much she could melt.

"Please stop teasing me"

She let go of her book and buried her face in her arms on the table to hide her burning face. It was a futile attempt as she was already caught but she still did it anyways. At least let her keep her dignity!

She could hear him getting up from his seat and sitting beside her. His fingers brushing her hair and tucking it behind her burning ears.

"It's true though"

He paused and she couldn't help but take a peek at the rustling beside her. He was in the same position as hers yet peeking at her with his eyes open, showing that soft and sweet smile that is exclusively for her eyes only. Maintaining eye contact to show the seriousness of his words.

"For me, you're the prettiest girl in the entire world"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

Hoshina Soshiro.exe has also stopped working.

Thank goodness it was only the two of them in the library at this hour, otherwise, it would be the listeners who dies at second-hand embarrassment from their flirting.

The buds of youth quivers at its desire to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 15~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hoshina Soshiro has made it a habit to tease his fiancee whenever possible. He couldn't help it when her reactions are so cute and amusing. He feels proud to being the only one with the right to see her like that.

He often smirks and act smug in front of his classmates and the other boys in their school, those he clearly knew has a blatant crush on his fiancee. Sometimes he wishes that she knows just how popular she is so she could feel confident in herself but at the same time he's glad she doesn't know.

It was always clear as day that she favors him more than any other, to him and to the people around them. To others, she would grace a polite smile and only answer their questions professionally. With him, she would laugh at his jokes and engage in conversations. Showing off that sweet smile that captivates anyone who sees it, including Soshiro.

Soshiro didn't know how many times he had to control himself from glomping at her and keeping her by his side, somewhere only he can see. The same smile that critically hit his heart on the first day they met continues to do so every single day, each time getting more powerful.

When he reminisces on their first meeting to now, he could see the improvement on their relationship for they had grown closer than before. If in the future, they continue to be together while working and get married then have kids---.

Stop! He's getting ahead of himself when they hadn't even hold hands yet... Wait... They haven't hold hands yet?

"Soshiro? Soshiro! Are you okay? You suddenly slapped yourself"

Asked Kagami with eyes filled with concern at his unexpected actions, not knowing she was the cause of it.

"It was nothing"

"Eh? Are you sure? That looks painful though"

She lifted her arm so her hand could touch the growing bruise on his cheeks. The feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his cheeks like it was something fragile and precious felt like static so he winced.

"It is painful! Come on, let's go to the infirmary to dress it okay?"

She immediately held his hand like it was a natural thing to do and dragged him to the infirmary. Soshiro felt stupid at his earlier thought. Who said they haven't hold hands yet? They were doing it now, weren't they?

Still, he hopes she doesn't turn around to look at him so she wouldn't see just how red his face is.

Since then, Soshiro keeps making excuses to touch her hand. He doesn't need to since she'll gladly let him do so anytime.

You must give it sufficient nutrients in order to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 18~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ever since they were children, they've been training hard to join the defense force as their ultimate goal. To slay kaijus, serve their country, and make their family proud.

After passing the written exams, Uzui Kagami and Hoshina Soshiro are confident in their abilities to pass the second part of the exams as well.

"Are you nervous?"

Soshiro asked the girl beside him as they stand in front of the venue, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"Just a little bit"

Kagami placed her free hand on her chest, not only was she nervous of the exams but also the thought of encountering new people.

"Me too. But we've been working hard for this for a very long time, haven't we?"

Soshiro despite being nervous himself cheered her up. In doing so, cleared both his and her worries.

"You're right"

Giving one last squeeze on each other's hands, they walked inside and took the test.

The two of them settled inside a cafe as they revealed the envelopes that will change their lives.

"Somehow, i'm getting nervous that my hands are shaking"

Kagami said as she attempted to stop her shaking, the tension was making her hands clammy and sweaty.

"Do you want to open it now?"

Soshiro was calm, seeing her this fussy once more felt like his nervousness was transferred to her instead of him. He felt guilty but still thinks she was cute like this.

"No matter the outcome, i'll still be proud of you"

He tried to comfort her with his words though it somehow only deepened her frown.

"I can't have that. We have to pass together"

With deep concentration, she took her envelope in her hands and opened it. Though struck by her resolve, he could only smile and shake his head, copying her actions.

Uzui Kagami/Hoshina Soshiro, as a result of you satisfactory performance, you have PASSED the exam.

A moment of silence before...

"We did it! We passed!"

With a rare outburst of joy, Kagami hurriedly moved out her seat to his and tackled him with a hug. Soshiro was expecting them to both pass but it truly does bring him joy when she expresses her happiness so well.

It was one of the rare instances that he sees of her initiating things. And he was indulging in it.

"Let's celebrate this occasion with some Mont Blanc and coffee"

Kagami called for the waiter and gave their orders. At the same time, she went back to her seat after recovering from her high. It felt like they could hear each other's thoughts as they both bowed to each other.

"Let's continue to work together from now on. Please take care of me"

Rewarding their hard work and efforts, the flower finally bloomed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Early 20's~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kagami and Soshiro joined the same division and stayed there together, having only each other's backs. It wasn't without struggle for them as they both specialize in sword slaying. Kagami was more flexible of the two as her precision and accuracy was better in long distance range so she could easily pick up a gun, but still she prefers to use swords if she could.

On one particular day, she heard her fellow officers making fun of her and her fiancee. It would've been fine if they were insulting her only but they also had to insult him. She was usually calm and quiet, preferring to keep to herself but she would never let anyone who insults Soshiro continue to yap their mouths.

"Please take that back! Soshiro-san has been working hard this entire time and putting in double the effort more than anyone else! If you give him a chance, you will understand that he can shine even brighter when he uses his swordsmanship!"

Hoshina Soshiro wonders why there was a crowd forming just outside the training room, until he heard a familiar voice inside of it. That voice, usually so calm and quiet to the point of whisper, was loud enough to pique the attentions of passersby. It wasn't only her uncharacteristic outburst that was eye-catching but also the words she's saying were. For it was filled with praises for him.

Once Soshiro realized that he was the topic of the conversation, he felt shy but he wanted to stop her even more. He doesn't want her to fight their fellow officers nor does he want her to get scolded by their superiors.

After wrestling his way through the crowd, he finally dragged her away, offering apologies on her behalf. Even if they did deserve the scolding they received from her, and doesn't really want to apologize to them, he had to do so out of courtesy.

Once he got her away to somewhere private, she was still quite upset, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She refused to look at his face and look down.

"I appreciate you defending me, Kagami. However, it's not like you to be that angry"

Soshiro urges her to look at him, to stare at his eyes by placing his hands on her cheeks. Once she look up, he could see the sad expression on her face. She was sad for him.

"They went too far. They don't know how great of a person you are. You're the best when it comes to close combat and slaying small kaijus, you could eliminate more than any of them could yet they still..."

"Thank you"

He wanted her to say more but her current state wouldn't let her. She was a bawling mess in his hands as he wipes away her tears. It was her first time crying in front of him yet he felt happy. All because she was thinking of him, all of it was for his sake and never yours.

The truth is, he was so incredibly touched by his fiancee's actions. It almost moved him to tears himself. Everyone wanted him to stop, his superiors and his family, yet she hopes that he could keep going. She pushes him to do what he loves despite people saying otherwise.

If they weren't at work right now, or if they were somewhere more private than the place he chose, he would've kissed her on the lips. He just settled for the forehead instead then he hugs her while patting her head. He whispered once again.

"Thank you"

The little flower happily showers in the rain filled with love.

<- Table of Contents Next ->

#soshiro fell in love at first sight #child soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #middle schooler soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #high schooler soshiro is a loser for his fiancee #pre-main story soshiro loves his fiancee #kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

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improbable-outset · 9 months ago

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📄 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: none, just fluff

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You didn’t expect the mysterious man that you met at a wedding to change your whole trajectory of the night

You rarely attend weddings unless it was for immediate family. However, you haven’t seen your childhood friend in a long time. After you graduated high school and went off to college, you both haven’t been in touch since.

So when she invited you over to her wedding, you couldn’t turn down an offer to see an old friend and celebrate the new couple.

The air in the venue was charged with energy as the guests mingled to meet the newlyweds. The sounds of rhythmic heels clicking and collective cheers provided a backdrop in the room.

You tried to allow yourself to be in the moment and enjoy yourself, even if you didn’t know a lot of people here. You did manage to converse with the bride’s parents who still remembered you from your childhood.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you found yourself drawn to the periphery of the room. From your vantage point you caught sight with a lone figure.

He held a stern expression and stood with an air of mystery, a stark contrast to the laughter you were surrounded with. His posture was upright and stiff with his gaze fixed on some distant point amongst the dance floor.

He had a large muscular build. Even under his dress shirt, you could see how broad his arms were that were crossed over his chest, with one hand holding a flute.

Before you could even get a proper view of him, your attention was taken away by a collision with a hurried wedding guest. He apologised profusely before he made his way into the throng of people, leaving you disoriented.

When you tried to look back, he was no longer where he once stood. Surprised, you quickly darted your eyes around the room but it was hard to see from where you were standing.

You made a beeline towards the edge of the room to get a better view. Your gaze swept over the gathering guests— since he was a tall figure he could tower over almost everyone here but despite that, he was nowhere to be found.

Even if you only saw a glimpse of him, you felt a tad bit frustrated that your chance to see him again was now gone.

You decided to step outside to one of the balconies in hopes of getting some clarity. There was the underlying hope that you’d find him from the balcony view.

Although you doubt anyone would ask about your whereabouts, you’d just give them the excuse that you were feeling hot. It was justifiable since the room was starting to feel stuffy.

The cool night air brushed against your skin. Just as you opened the door to the balcony, you caught sight of the man from earlier again and you felt your heart stutter. Even if you were trying to look for him earlier, you weren’t fully prepared to see him again.

He had his back towards the door while leaning over the railing so you couldn’t see his face. He must’ve acknowledged your presence after hearing the door click open.

You stepped further into the balcony and moved a little closer to him but still kept a comfortable distance.

He still retained the same cool and unwavering demeanor as he silently turned to look you up and down briefly before his gaze shifted away at the far distance again.

His chestnut hair was slicked back and his jawline was sharp. However what really struck you the most was the crimson hue of his iris.

It wasn’t welcoming but it was less cold compared to the first time you laid eyes on him. Perhaps it might be because you were both alone, away from the chaos inside.

You cleared your throat before you made your first impression. “So are you lost in your own thoughts or are you deliberately avoiding the crowd,”

He didn’t turn to look at you, still looking afar at the view but he definitely heard you. “I wouldn’t call myself lost,”

His tone of voice matched his stoic presence— monotonous yet there was an underlying richness to it, even if it was just a simple sentence.

“Enjoying the festivities at least?” You said, attempting to break the barrier of his aloofness.

He turned his head to look at you with his face still neutral from any expression. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“Nah you’re blending in just fine, I wouldn’t have noticed,” you said instinctively. You had to bite your tongue back before you said anything else. You barely even knew him and you already threw a lighthearted sarcastic remark.

Judging by the way he had carried himself so far, you would expect him to be put off by your comment. Much to your surprise, however, you saw a flicker of amusement that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, I’m doing just fine blending in?” He mused, you could hear the slight shift in his tone that emphasised his interest in the conversation now. He was starting to be more engaged and it made you feel a tingling sensation in your chest.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone noticed you’re out here,” You hoped that was the case. It didn’t appear like anyone was actively looking for him back inside and it seemed like he came here alone.

But you didn’t want to make any premature assumptions, so you just had to hope no one would interrupt your conversation.

“So, what brings you out here? I assume the same as me,” he asked.

“I needed some air,” that wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you weren’t going to admit that you came out here just to spark something with him, even if he was anything but approachable.

“Out of all the spots in this building for fresh air, it had to be the balcony?” He prodded, a tinge of heed in his tone.

You didn’t expect to be put on the spot like that. You were already stepping out of your comfort zone just by talking to him, but having him ask you an open question like that made your ears heat up in slight embarrassment.

You chewed on your cheek, trying to come up with a plausible answer. Hesitantly you replied, “Uh yeah…higher grounds,”

“No other reason?” He was lightheartedly taunting you now even if it wasn’t his intention.

Either you were a terrible liar and he could sense you weren’t telling him something or he was just stringing you along.

“Nope,” you quickly steered the conversation before he could say anything extemporaneous, “Weddings have a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” he shrugged before he continued. “But I’m sure most people are here for free food,”

“Well, between you and me…I’m here for the cake,”

“At least one of us here was being honest. The cake does look delicious,”

You continued, eager to keep the conversation going now, “I heard each tier is a different flavour,”

“I heard there’s even a coffee flavoured cake for the coffee lovers out there,”

“Uh huh..so what’s your excuse for lurking out here in the shadows,”

“Why don’t you guess?” He let the sentence hang in the air, like the answer wasn’t already obvious.

Even if he was here to get away from the crowd, there was still the nagging thought that he might’ve come here with someone and they were still looking for him back inside.

“Right, so I’m assuming you came here alone too?” You brought up the question, trying to sound as casual as you could.

“That is the case,” you felt a fraction of relief wash over you after he confirmed that, but you didn’t make it obvious in your body language. “You came here alone as well?”

“Yep. I’m from the bride's side,”

“The bride's side, huh? Well I’m here from the groom’s side,” he paused momentarily before he spoke again. “I guess we really are alone over here,”

“A connoisseur of the corner space…or the balcony,” you said lightheartedly.

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert but it is comforting here,”

It was and his presence made it feel more refreshing. Originally, you weren’t planning on staying any longer than necessary.

This wasn’t your scene at all and you wanted nothing more than to be back in your familiar confined space. But now after talking with this man, you wanted the night to last longer.

You felt the tingling sensation in your chest again, but this time there was a sudden urge to take a risky approach. “Well, if you do decide to go back inside and venture into the madness… I could save you a dance,”

The fluidity of your tone came out smoother than you expected. There was no biting back on your words now and you watched his reaction intently.

“Really now? Save me a dance?” He echoed. His words elevated his amusement as he arched his brow inquisitively. However what really surprised you was when he rose from the railing to stand upright before you.

It dawned on you how tall he truly was. You quickly back peddled. “Unless that’s outside of your element,”

“I’m not much of a dancer,�� he confessed sheepishly.

Neither were you, but you didn’t want to put him off. The rest of the conversation felt like it was guided but pure impulse now.

“Well no one had noticed us before when we were inside, so I don’t think anyone would notice us when we’re dancing,”

“And do you usually offer men to dance with you,” he asked. The question was unexpected. You weren’t usually this bold when it came to talking to men, let alone inviting them to dance.

You were more reserved and kept to yourself but tonight you really surprised yourself with your uncharacteristic forwardness. Yet, he was unaware of this side of you and probably assumed you were just here for a good time.

“Not always but since we’re both alone we might as well make the most of the night,” you answered, though you weren’t going to admit that you wanted more than just a dance.

“Fair point, one dance couldn’t hurt,” It was hard to tell where the rest of the night would take you, but at least now you weren’t alone.

And you hoped that he would let you stick around a little longer. He stepped closer to you and held out his hand.

“I still haven't caught your name yet,” you said as you gently took his waiting hand. His large fingers curled around yours in a soft grip.

“Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. And yours?”

This is actually a snippet of one of my ao3 exclusive series

#★— ayrus writes #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderverse miguel

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lulublack90 · 6 months ago

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Prompt 17 - Fee

@jegulus-microfic July 17, Word count 994

Previous part First part

He watched James zooming around the pitch until he stopped, hovering above the pitch watching something. It took Regulus longer than he cared to admit to realise that James was watching him. James swooped down to the ground in a perfect corkscrew. He must have been working on it. He touched down just as Regulus walked onto the grassy pitch.

“Hi,” James greeted him a little breathless as he pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“How long have you been out here?” Regulus asked. James’s hair was sticking up at all angles like it had been a while.

“Oh, er, about half an hour I think,” James said as he checked his watch. “Oh no, more like an hour,” He laughed a strong chuckle which shook his whole body. “I kind of lose track of time when I’m in the air.” Regulus knew exactly what he meant. Time didn’t mean anything when you had the wind in your hair, and you were tearing across the pitch after the golden snitch. “I booked the pitch for a private practice so we shouldn’t be disturbed. I’ve er, I’ve not told Sirius about, you know, our, erm.”

“Date?” Regulus supplied helpfully. “Thank you for not telling my brother it’s none of his business, and I’d like to keep it that way if that’s alright with you,” Regulus didn’t want to give Sirius any new ammunition to use against him. Sirius might not live at Grimmauld Place any longer, but that didn’t mean his actions didn’t get back to their mother. She knew he was in a relationship with Remus Lupin. She’d set fire to the curtains when she’d gotten that bit of news and his father had to quickly put them out before the whole house burned down.

“Right, yeah, thought you’d probably prefer that,” James smiled while running his fingers through his hair. Regulus decided he’d better lighten the mood.

“So, about this private practice you’ve booked, I must inform you that the fee for my tutoring is extortionate, and I have been told I am quite the tyrant when I get going,” Regulus told James seriously. James burst into loud guffaws and ended up dropping his broom. Regulus took advantage of his incapacitation, he snatched up James’s broom and kicked off into the air.

“Oi! Come back with that!” All merriment had left James now as Regulus flew in circles around him.

Regulus was already having more fun than any other date he’d been on, not that he’d been on many and none had been anything more than a walk in the courtyard and then back to the common room. He still didn’t know why he’d said yes and, even more puzzling, why he’d actually come to meet James. Barty had probably spiked his soup or something.

He reached out and poked James in the shoulder as he dared to fly a bit nearer. To his surprise, James’s hand shot out and grabbed the broom handle. He swung Regulus and the broom around and hopped on behind him, folding Regulus forward so he could grasp the broom handle with both hands.

“Like a bit of fun, do you?” James whispered in his ear. Chills shot through Regulus’s body as James took control of the broom, and they flew straight up into the sky.

Higher and higher they climbed until the castle and quidditch pitch looked like toys below them. Then James suddenly changed their trajectory and for a few split seconds they were totally weightless. Regulus lifted off the broom and only James’s arms that were bracketing him and his strong torso kept him from floating away.

Gravity came back with a wallop and Regulus was slammed back onto the broom, thank Merlin for cushioning charms. James leaned further forward, crowding Regulus even more. He’d never been this close to anyone. It felt wonderful. He wiggled back closer to James, basking in the heat radiating from his chest.

James flew them around the pitch, showing off his best moves. He twirled around the goalposts and up through the hoops. Eventually, he slowed and spun them in soft barrel rolls until he just let them glide lazily around the pitch. Regulus didn’t want the date to end, but the sun kept sinking lower and lower into the black lake, and they were forced to land or face the wrath of Madam Hooch if she caught them flying after curfew.

James landed them far more gracefully than Regulus would have given him credit for. They headed into the changing rooms together. Regulus dared to follow James into the Gryffindor one rather than enter the Slytherin changing rooms on his own.

He showered quickly and was almost finished changing into the clean robes he’d brought with him when James opened his cubical door. Regulus’s jaw dropped. James had wrapped a towel low around his waist and was using a smaller hand towel to rub the water from his hair. His rippling muscles glistened with water droplets, Regulus had the sudden urge to lick them from his chest before they could drop to the floor.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” James asked, but Regulus’s brain wasn’t working. He blinked slowly as the words wormed their way in. He nodded.

“Erm, er, yes, yes. Best date I’ve ever been on.” Wait, what did he just say? He flushed. James seemed to like that and leaned in slowly to press a soft kiss onto his reddened cheek.

“Next time, I’ll take you to this fairy ring I found in the forest. When they come out at night it’s beautiful.” Regulus didn’t question how James would get them into the forest at night, just assumed he could.

“You want to go on another date?” Regulus asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. James knelt down and cradled Regulus’s face in his hands.

“I want as many as you’ll give me,” He murmured, before closing the gap between them and kissing him.

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sissylittlefeather · 23 days ago

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If I Can Dream: Chapter 4

A/N: I love this story so much. I'm so glad some of you are enjoying it too! Head to my Masterlist if you need to get caught up!

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, cussing, oral sex (both receiving), swallowing, fingering

Word count: ~3k

Too good, he thinks as she nods and settles against him. Too good to last.

******

Elvis wakes up around noon with Jo still in his arms naked. He looks down at her with her hair sticking out everywhere, breathing softly. It takes him a second to realize he went to sleep last night without his normal handful of pills. Something about her puts him at ease and allows him to sleep. Or maybe he was just that tired. Either way, he kisses her forehead softly and she stirs.

“Mornin’ babe.” She whines, stretching.

“Hi, Tink. You hungry?” The nickname makes her smile. Then, she sits up suddenly.

“What time is it?!”

“Just a little after noon. Why?” She smacks her forehead with her hand.

“I've got to go get ready for the wedding. I'm supposed to be there at 2.”

“Wedding?” He panics a little.

“Yeah, Evelyn's wedding. The girl I was with at your show. She's… oh shit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to ask Alan.” His expression darkens.

“Who is Alan?” She notices the change in his demeanor and smiles.

“Just a guy at work that I was supposed to bring to the wedding. But… well…”

“What?”

“I'd rather bring you.” He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“No, honey, I can't go to a wedding.” Jo frowns.

“Guess I better call Alan, then.” Now Elvis frowns.

“Now, Tink, honey wait a second-”

“I have to have a date and if you won't come with me…” She looks up at him slyly. He bristles at the thought of another man touching her, even if he is a kind of fake date.

“How big is the wedding?”

“We're not like Memphis royalty. They work at FedEx and their families are here. That's about it.” He seems to be calculating whether he can pull it off.

“You want me to come?”

“Yes! More than anything.” He pulls her over on top of him and starts tickling her. “Ahhh Elvis stop!”

He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her neck. She lets him snuggle into her and runs her fingers through his hair as they relax into each other.

“I'll come with ya, Tink.”

“You will?” She pulls back and looks him in the eye.

“Yeah. What the hell. To live would be an awfully big adventure, right?” She smiles and kisses him deeply.

“Alright. I have to go do wedding things until around 5 and then I'll come get you.”

“I can meet you there, honey.” He pushes a piece of hair off of her forehead.

“No, I'm not giving you any excuses to back out. I'll come get you.” She smiles and kisses his cheek and he nods.

******

At 5:10, Jo pulls up to Graceland. Jerry lets her in and she waits in the foyer until Elvis comes down in a black suit with silver rhinestone panels on the shoulders.

“I always thought I was late places.” She laughs and Elvis scoffs.

“I'm Elvis Presley. I'm never late.”

“Well, tonight you're just Elvis, so I'm afraid we are late.” He grabs her and pulls her in close, kissing her gently. She giggles and mumbles against his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi, Tink.” She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers.

“This'll be fine. I promise.” He nods and presses his forehead to hers. Something about her makes him feel 25 again.

“You sure you don't wanna run upstairs for about fifteen minutes?” He smiles slyly and leans in to kiss her neck.

“Elvis, we gotta go. I'm a bridesmaid. I can't be too late.” He groans into her neck. She can tell he's very nervous about how this whole thing will play out.

They make their way to one of Elvis's Cadillacs and he drives to the wedding. When they arrive, Elvis slips into a seat at the back and Jo walks down the aisle to take her place at the front. Through the whole ceremony, he can't keep his eyes off of her. She looks radiant in her dark green dress, her brown eyes sparkling as she watches her best friend get married. He thinks of his own wedding, how hasty it had been, without a church and all the things his mama would've wanted. Next time he'll do it differently. Then, he realizes that's the first time he's ever considered getting married again. But when Jo looks out and smiles at him, the thought hits him again. This time he'll do it differently.

When the ceremony ends and the reception starts, word seems to spread pretty quickly that he's there, but Jo does an excellent job of running interference, keeping people away from him. After the newlywed couple has their first dance, they open the floor for people to join them.

“Come on! Let's dance.” Jo tugs on his hand to try to pull him out to the dance floor.

“Oh, Tink, honey-”

“Don't ‘Tink honey’, me. You're my date and I wanna dance. Come on.” He quickly realizes he's already lost this argument and follows Jo to the square in the middle of the room. Luckily, it's filled with couples, so they're able to slip in undetected. Jo convinces him to dance for the better part of an hour before he insists on a break when the band plays one of his songs.

Evelyn and Phil are making their rounds, thanking everyone for coming. When they get to Jo and Elvis, Evelyn freezes. Jo tries to lessen the shock.

“Hey Ev, this is Elvis.” Evelyn laughs.

“I'll say. Wow. Welcome to our wedding, Elvis Presley.” Elvis stands up and shakes her hand genially. Then he turns to Phil, who until this moment has been completely still, just staring at Elvis.

“It's a beautiful wedding. Oh! Here.” He pulls something out of his pocket and then hands Phil the keys to the Cadillac he arrived in. “I didn't have time to get a present.”

“We can't… this is…” Phil stumbles over his words.

“Sure you can. I have plenty of others.”

“Thanks, man.” Phil claps him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis genuinely enjoys the normalcy of it all. There are no cameras or people shouting questions, just food and drink and dancing.

Towards the end of the evening, a woman comes up to Jo and practically begs for an autograph. Before she can say no, Elvis cuts in.

“It's okay, Tink.” He turns to the woman. “Sure, dear. You have something for me to sign?”

The woman hands him a cocktail napkin and a pen and before too long there's a small crowd of people gathered for autographs and photos. Someone has located a Polaroid camera, so he poses and signs pictures for them. Jo watches him interact with the crowd and it warms her heart. He looks like he did fifteen years ago, happily chatting with fans. Eventually, everyone has what they want and they're all just eagerly standing around listening to him talk, so Jo steps in.

“Alright, that's enough. Leave my date alone. He owes me a dance.” The crowd disperses and he finds her, his eyes sparkling. Somebody requests The Wonder of You and instead of hiding at the table, he grabs Jo and drags her to the dance floor. He wraps her in his arms and sings the whole song in her ear as they sway to the music. When it's finished, he pulls back and looks at her, his eyes wet with tears.

“That song is for you, honey. I didn't know that when I sang it on stage, but it is.” He leans in and kisses her softly, completely forgetting that they're in public. She rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes.

“I love you, Elvis. And I know you just met me, so I'm not expecting-”

“I love you too, Tink.” She looks up at him with her eyes wide. “I do. I'm not sure how, but I do.”

A warm smile spreads across her face and it's like someone lit a candle inside her. He basks in the light of her love and they spend the rest of the evening in this kind of glittering bubble of bliss. Just before they leave, Evelyn comes back and grabs Jo in a hug.

“I didn't believe it. I'm sorry. But you were right. The way he looks at you…”

“It's okay, Ev. I sounded nuts. I probably was nuts. I just don't like to give up.” Jo laughs softly.

“I know. I'm glad you didn't listen to me.”

“Me too.” They embrace one more time and then Evelyn and Phil leave for their honeymoon. The reception ends, so Elvis calls Jerry to come pick them up since he's given their ride to the happy couple.

Jerry shows up with one of the limousines and opens the door for them like a chauffeur.

“Thanks, Jer.” Jerry smiles and whispers.

“You like this one. Figured you'd like to pull out all the stops to keep her around.” Elvis winks.

“I love this one, Jerry.” Then he slides into the backseat next to Jo. Jerry closes the car door and thanks God he went out and got those airplanes.

******

In the limousine, Jo cuddles up against Elvis and he kisses her head. Then, he uses a finger to tip her chin up and kisses her lips. It doesn't take long for the heat to build between them and he turns his body, taking her face in his hand. His tongue explores her mouth and she whimpers softly. When she crawls into his lap and straddles him, he pulls back, breathing heavily.

“Honey, we can't do this in the backseat.”

“Why not?” She peppers him with kisses on his face and neck. He tries to remember why they can't, but his brain is distracted as his blood flows south.

“Jerry…” He nods his head towards the very thin curtain that separates them from the front seat.

“So be quiet…” She slinks down between his legs and he groans softly. Her deft little fingers get his belt and pants undone easily and he shifts in his seat, bucking his hips forward to give her better access to his dick. She pumps him a few times with her hand, but he's harder than either of them expected him to be, so she quickly dives in, wrapping her mouth around his length.

“Fuck, honey.” It's been so long since he's done anything like this that the dirtiness of it is keeping him turned on. And beyond that, Jo’s warm little tongue sliding up and down his cock is doing the job. She pumps him with her hand for a bit, focusing on swirling her tongue around his sensitive head. His hips buck again and he moans.

“Quiet, baby. You have to be quiet.”

“Don't give a fuck. Feels too good.” He grunts, genuinely not caring whether Jerry hears him or not. Honestly, it wouldn't be the first time. Jo smiles and goes back to bouncing her mouth on him. She takes him as deep in her throat as she can, pressing her nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him, moaning around his cock. He slowly starts to move his hips, thrusting into her mouth, running his fingers in the back of her hair to hold her still. She reaches back and gently moves his hand off of her head and then sits up.

“Don't do that.” He nods and she goes back to what she was doing, pumping him with her hand and sucking lightly on the tip of his dick. She pulls him fully into her mouth again, humming around him and he groans.

“Gonna cum, honey.” She rubs her tongue on the underside of his head and then pulls back a bit.

“Good. Fill this dirty little mouth, baby.”

“Oh God… fuck.” Her words push him right to the edge and when she takes him deep again and sucks, his climax snaps inside him and he cums hard, moaning loudly as she swallows it down. He shudders and throbs in her mouth through his orgasm before he starts to soften and she backs off of him, licking her lips.

“That good, baby?” He nods and pulls her to him, kissing her gently.

“Haven't done anything like that in a long time. I swear, Tink, you make me feel 25 again.” She smiles.

“That's good, because you owe me when we get home, so I hope you still have some energy.” He laughs and squeezes her, kissing her temple.

“You got it, honey.” He zips his pants and she settles into his arms for the rest of the ride. They arrive about five minutes after they finish and look at each other and laugh.

“Perfect timing.” She giggles and climbs out of the car.

“Glad I didn't get on my knees in there. Jerry would've gotten a hell of a show when he opened the door.”

“A visual to go with the sounds he heard. You were not quiet.” Elvis laughs and pokes her in the side as they walk into the house.

“You're too good, honey. I couldn't help myself.” She turns and kisses him in the foyer, parting her lips to give his tongue permission to enter. He kisses her deeply for a few seconds and then pulls back abruptly. “I just realized I haven't gone down on you.”

“It's okay-”

“No. I need to remedy this right away.” He pushes her in front of him up the stairs, his hands on her ass the whole time. She giggles shamelessly, both of them ignoring the fact that there are other people in the house. When they're together like this, they don't even notice there are other people on the planet. At the top of the stairs, Elvis loses his patience and bends over, throwing her over his shoulder to carry her into the bedroom. She's a tiny little thing, so he does it easily and she lets out a small scream.

“Elvis!”

“You were takin’ too long.” He carries her into the bedroom and tosses her on the bed. She scoots to settle with her head on the pillows and he crawls in between her legs on his knees. First, he pushes her dress up and over her head, tossing it to the side. Next, he removes her bra, throwing it somewhere too. When he gets to her panties, he drops soft kisses on her stomach before using both hands to slowly roll them down her legs and off with her shoes. She moans softly as he presses his lips to her ankle and then starts making his way back up. In between each kiss, he whispers.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

As he gets closer to her center, his kisses get softer and slower. She whimpers as he gently pushes her thighs apart and lays down between them. He runs his finger up her slit feeling the wetness and clicks his tongue.

“Damn, honey, I haven't even touched ya yet.” She moans softly in response.

“Need it so bad, babe.” He smiles and leans in, licking a stripe up her pussy and then pushes his tongue into her as far as it'll go. Her back immediately arches and she curses loudly. “Fuckkkkk, Elvis.”

His tongue finds her clit easily and he makes slow, languid circles over it. She groans and runs her hands in his hair, pulling slightly. He grunts when she grabs his hair, enjoying the sensation. She starts to sweat and pant as he goes to work on her sensitive bud, licking and sucking and dragging his tongue over it. He's going at her with more intention than he's had with a woman in a long time. He always makes sure they cum, but this time he wants to make sure she stays too. So he pulls out all the stops, moving his tongue on her with increasing fervor. She bucks her hips up into his mouth and he moves back down to fuck her with his tongue as she grinds against him. When he moves back to her clit, he pushes two fingers inside her and her eyes almost cross from the pleasure as he moves them.

“That feel good, honey?” He mumbles against her and she whines in response.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Good girl, now cum for me.” She moans loudly as he gives her the direct order and goes back to licking her, furiously chasing her high.

“Oh God, Elvis, FUCK!” She grabs his hair again and her orgasm crashes over her body, rocking her from the inside out as she holds on tightly and cums hard in his mouth, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He licks her until he feels her softening on his tongue. Sliding his fingers out, he licks another stripe over her whole pussy and grunts.

“Goddamn, you taste good, honey. Kinda wanna lick you all night until you can't cum anymore.” She whimpers and moans.

“Well I ain't gonna say no to that…” He smiles and leans his face back down to her pussy.

Jo ends up with three consecutive orgasms before she admits defeat, gasping for breath and coated in sweat. Elvis chuckles and rolls over on his back. He hasn't had this much fun getting a woman off in years.

After they both recover a bit and put on some pajamas, he lays down next to her on the pillow and she snuggles into his side. She walks her fingers up his chest and he grabs her hand, kissing her fingertips.

“I love you, Tink. I never thought I'd feel this way again. You brought me back to life. Thank you.” She looks up at him and kisses him softly.

“You saved me too. Someday I'll tell you how. For tonight I'll just say this: I love you too, Elvis Aaron Presley. And I'm yours for as long as you'll have me.”

Forever, then. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back for some reason. He'll think about that tomorrow. For now, he drifts off to sleep with her in his arms again, perfectly content.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

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#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #Elvis x Jo #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis Presley x Jo Bellamy

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sleepynoons · 1 month ago

Text

THE NIGHT BY SOYOU (FEAT. GEEKS) – asakura shin (sakamoto days) x gn!reader, college!au, sfw

genre – fluff word count – ~2,300 warnings – suggestive content synopsis – plans have changed, and to your surprise, both you and your boyfriend shin are staying on campus over winter break. that means the two of you can spend christmas together, and you're excited to have him all to yourself!

Your room has never been cleaner. It’s a small studio, just a little over how much a college student living in Japan can afford, and usually, there’d be piles of clothes hanging on the backs of plastic chairs, plushies scattered across the floor – victim after victim to your devastating tossing and turning during the night –, scrap paper and ballpoint pens lying on every hard surface. But given that your boyfriend, Shin, will be staying with you for a week over winter break, you put in the effort to make your place look somewhat presentable and spacious enough for two people.

It’s not like he hasn’t come over before, but that was at the beginning of the school year in March when you had just moved in, and most of your belongings hadn’t arrived yet. At the time, the two of you barely knew each other; he only came to drop off some soldering tools that Natsuki, your mutual friend, had been holding onto for you, but from first glance, Shin looked absolutely adorable to you, and you knew you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. After a few months, thanks to many chance encounters on campus and several more deliberate efforts on your end to meet up (mainly never-ending text messages in all-caps to Natsuki demanding he set the two of you up), the two of you began dating towards the latter half of the summer.

That’s why you’re not only excited that he’s staying over, but it’ll also be your first Christmas together as a couple! Throughout the past week, you’ve been daydreaming for hours on end about all of the romantic, cheesy things the two of you can do together – cuddling while watching a movie in the dark, making hot chocolate together, waking early to a white Christmas, the list goes on. But, more importantly, you have a single goal for this Christmas, one that will change the progression and trajectory of your relationship, and you must accomplish it.

You’ll finally convince Shin to make out with you (and maybe do more)!

Aside from teasing pecks and soft smooches, the two of you haven't done more, and it almost pains you to admit that your relationship is still on first base. To be fair, it’s not like you haven’t pressed for more. Especially when the mood seems more heated, you always ask your boyfriend for more, at which he blushes furiously but shakes his head, refusing to give you what you need.

“I’m too nervous, and I don’t know how to,” he admitted once, begrudging and a little ashamed in tone. “You’re my first, so… I don’t really know what to do.”

At that, you backed off, not wanting to pressure him into doing something he’s not prepared for.

But it’s been months since that conversation, and your impatience is returning ten-fold. You’ve also noticed that, as of late, he’s been staring at your lips more, lightly panting under his breath whenever the two separate from a kiss, hands clenching and fisted at his sides whenever you lean a little too closely, as if he’s resisting some devilish temptation or desire.

Now that you have the chance, you have to ask him again, and if he lets you, you’ll teach him everything he has to know.

The doorbell rings, and you drop your phone down onto the kitchen counter and scramble over to the door. You fling the door open and spring forward, causing Shin to shout in surprise as you hug him.

“Shin!” you chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you release him.

He sets down his duffle bag with clothes, toiletries, and other necessities for the upcoming week onto the ground, while holding onto a small bag with a ribbon tying the handles together. He pecks you on the forehead before shoving the party bag at your direction. “Merry Christmas!”

You can’t help but yelp with delight, hands clapping vigorously, before you take it from him. You look back at him and, with a large, wide smile, ask, “I thought we weren’t going to exchange gifts?”

With a shy sigh, he rubs a hand behind his neck, ears tinged pink, as he explains, “It’s not really a present. Just some goods from back home since you’re letting me stay over.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, Shin!”

You fling your arms around your boyfriend again, embracing him tightly again, and you don’t let him go until you hear him wheezing for air.

Promptly, you let go before turning around and beckoning him with dramatic waves of your arms to follow after you. “Come in! Just make yourself comfortable!”

Shin chuckles before setting his duffle bag next to your bed before joining you in the kitchen. You’re pouring hot milk into two mugs, and he helps you drop marshmallow bits on top to complete the hot chocolate.

As you both sit down at your dining table, you ask him, “Are you feeling alright? I know this is your first Christmas away from home…”

Originally, your boyfriend was supposed to return home, but the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and it wasn’t safe anymore for him to drive home on his motorcycle. It’s quite obvious how much Shin’s family means to him – his phone wallpaper is of his two sisters, Lu and Hana, and he calls his parents every weekend. His brother, Heisuke, along with his pet bird Piisuke, often drop by as well. While you’re excited that the two of you can spend more time together, you’re worried that the tradeoff came at his loss.

Shin glances at you as he blows at the persistent steam rising from his cup. With a shrug, he says, “Oh, it’s not a big deal. The forecast said the snowstorm will clear by next week, so I’ll get home right before New Year’s.”

Despite his nonchalance, you let out a loud wail and bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t worry, Shin!” you declare, though your volume's muffled by his sweatshirt. “We’ll have so much fun together!”

And the evening is fun! As per tradition, the two of you order fried chicken with several side dishes – corn with melted cheese, toasted bread, garlic fries – and chow down while catching up on several movies that neither of you could watch due to endless assignments and deadlines. You also force Shin to do a sheet mask with you, and throughout the 15-minute wait, Shin’s incredibly restless and has to fidget in some way, whether that be bouncing his leg or wriggling his finger or elbowing you in the rib cage. By the time you both are ready for bed, it’s already past midnight – in other words, officially Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” you giggle as you crawl into the covers.

Shin’s already lying on his back, sprawled across the entire bed, and you take care not to step or press down on him. You hook a leg across his midriff and fold your arms together between your bodies, one hand flattened over his chest directly where his heart rests underneath. His heartbeat is surprisingly slow, though it’s not as abnormal given that he’s athletic and built. Shin has an arm underneath your neck, and his cheek's pressed against your forehead.

It’s tempting to fall asleep – from your shared warmth, the thumping of his heart alternating with yours, the occasional whisper of his breath tickling your forehead. And you do almost give in. Shin’s eyes are closed, and his other hand, which was fiddling with your sleep shorts, is getting lazier and slower in its movements. He might even be asleep at this rate, but unfortunately, you won’t let him rest that easily tonight.

“Shin,” you mutter, patting at his chest lightly, “are you still awake?”

At first, he doesn’t react, and you feel disappointment sink in your stomach. Then, you watch as a corner of his lip twitches until there’s a small, teasing smile on his face.

“What’s up?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. You giggle along with him and get up to peck him lightly on the eyelids.

“It’s Christmas!” you whine, quite emphatically as well. “We can’t just go to bed!”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. You ignore it because you know he always gives into your wants anyway. And as expected, he asks, “What should we do then?”

This is the perfect opportunity, you think. A surge of excitement races through your body, causing you to almost shiver in delight. And so, with your leg that is slung across his waist, you tuck the heel of your foot into him a bit tighter, and look down at him with giddy expectation.

“Well…,” you drawl, “it’s normal for couples to get a little… naughty on Christmas, right?”

Shin immediately blushes, sputtering surprised and flustered noises, and tries to cover up his face. You catch his hand, though, and your hold on him prevents him from pulling away through other means.

“Shin,” you whimper, more desperate than anything, “don’t you want to kiss me?”

The question quite literally gags him, and with a slack jaw, he’s stunned quiet. His eyes scramble around, fastidiously searching your face for a sign of humor or teasing. But you’re totally serious, determined, and he can tell from the slight pinch between your brows.

He sighs, a loud release of air, before he faces away from you. With a muted voice, he admits, “I do.”

You gleam at his answer, and you press your body closer to his, chest to his side, thigh hiked up and over his stomach, arm across his chest. At this point, you’re practically lying on top of him.

“I want to kiss you, too!” you exclaim. But you quiet down immediately and mumble, “I want to kiss you more…”

Shin’s face is now a shade of deep red, heat spreading across his cheeks, ears, and neck. “I-I don’t know how to…”

You press your lips against the bottom of his jaw. You glance up, gauging his reaction, but it seems he’s also waiting to see what you’ll do next. So you continue, making your way up to his earlobe, which you nip at – his breath hitches at it –, before you move horizontally, scattering more pecks across his cheeks and nose bridge.

Then, you take a brief pause. You rest your forehead against his and whisper, “Is this alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he grunts.

With his approval, you resume. You kiss at the arches of his eyebrows, his temples, the apples of his cheeks again. But you feel a burning impulse to do more, so you finally allow yourself to kiss him.

You’re truly on top of him now. Legs straddling him and forearms resting on his chest, you kiss him deeply, putting slight pressure as you mesh your lips against his. Shin responds enthusiastically, hands grabbing at your waist, chin tilting up for a better angle, throat thrumming with broken groans.

When he tries to break for air, you press forward. You lick and bite his bottom lip, to which he weakly gasps at, before interlocking your lips together once more. Your hands have moved up to hold his face in place, enabling you to nibble at and taste his lips until you’re content.

“Breathe through your nose,” you croak as you finally relent, pulling away to get a proper look at your boyfriend.

Shin’s entirely disheveled. His shirt's crumpled and wrinkled, his hair's matted to his forehead, and there’s a dazed air to him in general. He glances at you before huffing, out of breath, “Should’ve said so earlier, idiot.”

You try to contain your satisfaction, but Shin clicks his tongue at you, knowing your internal monologue regardless.

“How’s that for your first makeout session?” you tease, poking at his stomach with an index finger.

Unwilling to give in, he gruffly responds, “Fine.”

You squawk, more than displeased with his response, and you probe even further. “What?! What didn’t you like? Was I too forceful? Did I bite too hard? Should I have added tongue –“

He muffles your mouth with his palm, blush reigniting at your string of questions, particularly that last one.

“No, no! It was fine – actually, fantastic! There, happy?”

You cross your arms and pout. You wanted Shin to enjoy making out with you so much so that he would say it himself, not to simply appease you.

As you’re thinking about what you could’ve done better, you don’t notice the way he stares – practically glares – at your lips. His arms have also slowly wound their way around your hips, and it’s only when he shifts so that he’s sliding up that you’re brought back from your thoughts.

You didn’t realize the two of you were so close again. Now that you’re both sitting up, Shin’s chest is pressed solid against yours once again, and a hand of his rests at the back of your neck, reaching up to hold the base of your head as well. His breath's also heavier, and you gulp, having never seen Shin so serious and quiet, aside from when he’s studying.

Finally, after what seems like several minutes of silence, Shin redirects his glare to you and mumbles, “Merry Christmas,” before he seals the last bit of distance between the two of you, kissing you so deeply, intently, breathlessly.

You squeak in surprise, but the noise gets swallowed up by Shin’s hungry licks and suckling, and the two of you continue to make out, lip to lip, tongue against tongue.

You’ve always known that Shin’s a fast learner, but your heart also sings with pleasure at your boyfriend’s adventuring boldness. The shyness he had once displayed has been replaced with an eagerness that can’t be suppressed for any longer, and as he licks at a string of drool that's only beginning to slide out of the corner of your mouth, you relax into his grip, relinquishing pacing and control over to him.

Somewhere, in the back of your head, you thank your impatience because this is the best Christmas you could’ve asked for, and you wouldn’t trade this moment with Shin for anything else.

winter event masterlist

#sakamoto days #sakamoto days fluff #shin #shin asakura #asakura shin #shin x reader #shin asakura x reader #asakura shin x reader #shin fluff #sakamoto days shin #shin sakamoto days #carrot cake!#house of solis occasum

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