#y/n i really know the feeling that you can see him walking out from a photoshoot because he is indeed like always

[leftoverghosts]

'til death

art donaldson x cheating wife reader. mentioned you x pat.

"I don’t think I could survive seeing you with someone else."

warnings: nsfw!!! some curse words. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. dom art. smut. art is a munch. finger in butt. cheating reader. more gross than i usually write. not beta read.

nori says: please!! please!! read my warnings! xoxo. i have a few more asks to get through for my xmas game! but besides those (and ones pending from sof) i am closing it!! thank you so much for playing!!! here is a little gift of what i would have selected!

word count: 1,400~

"Tennis Legend Art Donaldson’s Wife Seen Kissing Mysterious Man."

The title elicits a scoff from you, while Art's teary eyes gaze at you as if you've castrated him.

Yes, you kissed Patrick. Yes, things went further than just a kiss. But for some asinine, no-name fucking blogger on Instagram to refer to you as "Art Donaldson's wife" is the real travesty here. That's libel, that's slander.

Your knee throbs with pain.

"Why didn’t you tell me Patrick was in town?" Art weeps, and you drag your eyes back to his face before cringing.

Martyr, martyr, martyr. It’s his favorite role. You want him to be angry, to be calculating like he used to be. You want him to manipulate his way back into your good graces.

"Art," you sigh, "ask me what you really want to know."

“Did you fuck him?” He asks it almost as soon as you finish speaking.

"Twice." You shrug, wanting to wound, longing for the real him to shred through the flesh of the docile facade he's hiding behind and fight with you.

He sucks in a breath, fingers drumming against the table before he...smirks?

"I don’t think I could survive seeing you with someone else. Especially not him.”

“You’re barely surviving as is, Art. Sometimes I feel like if it weren't for your blinking, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between you and a doll. I have to sit you here, change your expression there. Fuck. Who are you?"

He blinks at you. "I am who you made me."

"I want you to be who you used to be."

"If I change, will that make you stop seeing Patrick?"

You pause, confused. "Patrick doesn’t matter to me. He's not the man I chose to marry. But when I'm with him, I can pretend it's the real you again. I like the familiarity of it, like we're back in that hotel room and he fucking listens. Having to explain this is beneath me.”

"Mhmm," Art takes a moment to process your words before getting up and walking around the table to stand beside you. He hovers over you, waiting for you to face him, and when you do, his hand is in your hair, yanking.

Art pulls you out of the chair with little effort. It crashes to the ground with a loud clatter before he kicks it aside. He steps behind you, needing even less effort to press the side of your face against the table's wood grain. His hand grips the back of your neck, firmly holding you in place.

"You don't just want me to listen, you want me to fucking snap, don't you baby? It's not like you to work backwards.” he sneers. “And if anything is beneath you, it’s still sneaking off with Patrick Zweig in your thirties. He’s ranked two hundred,” your skirt is pushed up to your hips, “and seventy fucking fifth.”

Art rarely curses, but you've pushed him over the edge and caused him to reveal that he's been keeping track of Patrick's rank.

This was what you wanted all along.

You start to complain when he rips your expensive pantyhose, but Art silences you with two quick slaps on your ass and rips enough of your underwear to have access to you.

“Shut the fuck up. You’ll use my Amex to buy new ones anyway.” He lets go of your neck and swipes his pointer and middle finger across your wet center like a credit card, squeezing your labia and working at your clit. You can't see his smirk but you can feel it. “Don’t you have any self worth? Or are you that bored with the life I bankroll for you?”

When you don’t answer, he pauses, peering down at you as he restrains himself. His expression is tinged with fear when your eyes meet, as if questioning whether he’s gone too far. Consent has always been important to him; even after five years of marriage, he never touches you without asking for permission.

“I’m okay, Art. You’re doing well.” You reassure him, not lifting up from the table, but turned on by how quickly the apprehension in his eyes transforms into lust.

"Okay." He nods and drops to his knees, "open your legs for me, baby." You oblige eagerly, yearning for his touch. His strong hands grip your soft flesh, spreading you open before him. Your heart races with anticipation as you feel his hot breath against your most intimate area. He teases you with a long, slow lick, his tongue warm and wet as it glides from your clit to your asshole.

A moan escapes your lips as he begins to work you over with his mouth. Art points his tongue and probes at your ass, prodding and swirling around the rim. He alternates between flicking his tongue rapidly across your hole and pressing it inside you, wiggling it deeper.

You're drunk on the vulgar slurping sounds as he laps at you, greedy and insatiable. He sucks and nibbles at your rim, taking you apart piece by piece.

He pulls back to spit thick gobs of saliva over your fluttering hole, the crude act making you clench and shiver. Rivulets run down your crack and over your thighs. He dives back in, sealing his mouth over your entrance and sucking hard, his tongue writhing against your walls.

You cry out and push your ass back into his face, desperate for more. Art’s hands grip your hips as he tongue-fucks your hole with abandon, plunging in and out, swirling around your rim. He devours your ass like a man who has been starved for days, moaning with pure bliss at the taste of you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, overwhelmed by the unrelenting pleasure and his grip is hard enough to bruise as he feasts on you, giving both your holes the attention they crave. He knows just how to please you, taking care of your every need before indulging in his own desires.

You would laugh at how even in his dominant role, he still prioritizes your pleasure first, but the sensations are too exquisite to do anything but feel.

Art works you over with his tongue, bringing you to a shuddering climax before standing and shifting his sweatpants down to free his throbbing erection. He fucks into you and one hand grips your ass cheek while his thumb circles and probes your puckered entrance, slipping inside to the first knuckle.

"Does Patrick fuck you like this?" Art pants heavily as he thrusts into your slick heat. "You think he could afford a woman like you? The jewelry you're wearing right now costs more than that piece of shit's entire car. And he thinks he can put his hands on what belongs to me? Fucking tell me."

"No, never!" You babble incoherently, grasping at the table for purchase as the dual stimulation threatens to overwhelm you. The sensations aren’t new, but this tension is. "I only keep him around because I miss you so much, Art. It's always been you."

“Lying. Fucking. Whore.” he grits out, each word punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips and a twist of his thumb buried in your ass. "You miss someone you were trying to get rid of? But you'll never be rid of me. 'Til death do us part, say it!"

“Til’ death, baby.” You eagerly agree, tears flowing from your eyes pool on the table under your cheek. It feels like a baptism, like you’re coming back to your religion.

“Cum for me. Slut.” He dribbles a little more spit down onto his thumb and quickens the pace of thrusting it in and out of your asshole, matching the rhythm of his cock inside your pussy. “Show me what you did for him in that cheap hotel room.”

He's always vocal during sex, but the degrading words are hitting you in all the right places. Your legs start to tremble and you tighten around him, signs that you're close to orgasm. Just as you think you're about to come, he pulls away, stroking himself until he finishes and ejaculates all over your backside and legs.

“What the hell, Art?” You whine, turning to glare at him. But he shoves the same thumb into your mouth and when you recoil, he laughs. His expression is deadly serious.

"If I catch you with Patrick again, I'll divorce you. Don't test me."

[tsukuhoe]

13. who's the cute boy with the white sweatshirt

the coffee shop buzzed with its usual morning rush, the scent of espresso mingling in the air. you stepped inside the coffee shop, your sundress swayed lightly with the movement. a soft white rosalia midi sundress dotted with a yellow floral print seemed to carry a piece of summer into the shop. you glanced at your watch— enough time before the table read started. 

you walked up to the register, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you studied the menu. 

“good morning!” the barista greeted you. “what can i get for you?” 

“hmm,” you murmured, your voice soft but thoughtful. “a vanilla latte with two shots of espresso and a rose cold foam, please.” 

“right. your order will be soon! love your dress by the way, has anyone told you that you look a lot like y/n l/n?” 

“yes...! i get that a lot! thank you.” 

as you waited, your eyes wandered, taking in the shop's interior. your gaze brushed over a familiar-looking raven-haired man with multiple facial piercings and gauges. his hair was tied ​​half up and for a brief moment, your eyes met. you smiled, the kind of small, polite smile you give a stranger, but it felt like a spark anyway. 

when your drink was ready, you picked it up, fingers curling delicately around the cup. as you turned toward the door, your shoulder collided with someone. the next thing you knew, your latte was splashed across the floor and the person’s white sweatshirt. 

“fuck, i’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, panicking at the mess you made. looking up to see the guy you spilt your latte on. his purple eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, you forgot about the sticky, rapidly cooling liquid soaking into his clothes. 

“no, it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the words came out more irritated than he intended. “i wasn’t paying attention.” 

“neither was i,” you admitted, setting your cup down on a nearby table. “here, let me help.” you grabbed a stack of napkins from the counter and handed him a few, keeping the rest to blot the floor. 

he stood and ran a hand through his messy dark hair as you got on your knees, trying to wipe the hem on his sweatshirt, hoping it wouldn’t stain the white. his face flushing, then turning it away from your downward view. your sundress’s cleavage gave an invasive view from the angle and the position you were in didn’t help his mind to not lead to sexual thoughts. 

“i feel terrible. how much was this sweater? i’ll pay for it.” you asked, still focused on the stain. 

“you know, normally, people would ask for an autograph instead of offering money.” he chuckled, grabbing your arm and picking you up to look at him. 

“huh? i’m sorry, i don’t quite understand...." he smirked. then it clicked. you realized who you were looking at. "wait, are you suguru geto?” 

“the one and only,” he nodded with a sweet smile on his face. “and you’re y/n l/n, right? i’ve seen you a few times on the news and radio.” 

you eagerly nodded back. this was the suguru geto. the one that played a huge part in the indie music industry. the one that went on an indefinite hiatus five years ago. 

“can i buy you another drink?” he asked, snapping you out of your shocked state. you hesitated, glancing at your watch. you were going to be late if you waited any longer. fuck. “i don’t really have time—”

“or,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “you could take this.” the raven-haired slid a sleek, black stainless steel tumbler across the counter towards you.

you frowned. “what’s this?”

“my coffee. black, no sugar,” he said, a sheepish grin tugging at his pierced lips. “i’m a little obsessed with punctuality, so i always leave early. you, on the other hand, seem like you’re cutting it close.”

you stared at him, a mix of gratitude and disbelief swirling in her chest. “you’re just… giving me your coffee?”

“think of it as an apology.”

you accepted the tumbler reluctantly. “okay, but only if you let me pay you back for that sweater.”

“deal,” he said, slipping a card out of his wallet and scribbling something on the back with a pen from his pocket. “here’s my number. text me when you’ve got time, and we’ll call it even.”

album bonus tracks: — SUGURU !!! — i have this huge hc of suguru having facial piercings n tats — he has an eyebrow piercing, snake bites, labret piercing, industrial, helix (and tits!) pierced! — and tats are placed on his upper left arm to neck <33 (idk if u can tell but i love body decor) — also on the topic of piercings n tats, choso has SO MANY (which we'll talk about some other time) — excited to update more (if u couldn't tell by my little spree lately) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

. ꒷ TAG LIST .ᐟ.ᐟ [CLOSED 50/50] @celloccino @shokosbunny @nymphsdomain @alpha-mommy69 @soulairess @poopooindamouf @reyna-isabellaa @justamina-blog @koreluvsspring @mayhemfellasleep @clamousera @roxy776699 @l-ilysm @ayla-1605 @kaemaybae @starmapz @gigiiiiislife @puppyminnnie @desideityy @yuhig-blog @kaiiibxby @ami20019 @kentochronicles @missthatgirl @lauuriiiz @emi311 @lunavelha @coffeeisbehindyou @freakadelick @theclassbookworm @ladytamayolover @tojirin @fuckisthatahotghost @odxrilove @perqbeth @rxi-n-lyche3 @sugoroo @mentallyunpresent @naviaberries @wil10wthetree @thesharkcollector @harryzcherry @ghost-buddies @tearshedder @mourn1ng-dov3 @hellokittyish @good-mourning0 @shoma-nom @elegancefr @norikuna

[no-144444]

prison, not a promise- l.norris

summary: lando proposes and it doesn't go as planned...

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He genuinely thought you would’ve been the woman he married. He believed that the moment he got down on one knee, you would’ve burst into tears in front of him and said yes. 

He’d never expected that. 

People (understandably) thought you were fucking crazy. Who would say no to Lando Norris? Who would give up the chance to be rich and famous forever, to have one of the most sought-after men on the planet forever? 

Well, those people didn’t know what it meant to be ‘loved’ by Lando Norris. They didn’t see the constant fights and beratings. They wouldn’t know about the fact that you hadn’t felt like yourself for an entire year. They didn’t know about the sleepless nights, sitting there and wondering, hoping that you were enough. They didn’t know that an engagement ring would've been a prison, not a promise. 

You both walked into his apartment, silent. You hadn’t said ‘no’, saying ‘yes’ while in public just to keep up appearances,  but Lando knew, the second you two got in the car, you weren't happy. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to lean into him one last time, be his one last time. That was the Lando you fell for. The one that hugged and kissed you like no one else would ever matter to him, the one that looked at you like you held up the stars just for him. You never expected the honeymoon stage to last forever, but these fights weren’t normal. He ripped apart your character, your appearance, anything, just to make you feel as upset as him. You\’d been together for 4 years, and the problems started when he became Max’s rival.

“Lando, we’re not happy,” you started, feeling his hands drop from your waist. You turned around to face him. “At least, I’m not. I do everything you ask of me. I cook and clean, I dress up nice, I follow you around the fucking world and I gave up my dreams so that you could always have me at races. Now, all we do is fight. I’m fucking sick of it, alright? I’m tired of the fact that you either don’t love me anymore, or you don’t respect me, and I’d like to thank you for the 3 wonderful years we had before this year, and give you back your ring. You deserve someone less ambitious. You deserve someone paper-cut to be a WAG, Lando. I’m not that girl,” you sighed tearily. “When you find her, I suggest you tell her that you can be mean, you can be selfish, and you can be forgetful, but the trade for that is the sweetest man on the planet once the anger wears off. I’ve been around angry men my entire life, and I will not marry one. I’ll grab my things tomorrow. Goodbye Lando,” you brushed back at him, placing the golden engagement ring in his hand as you passed him by. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You left Monaco with all of your belongings, and went back home. You bought an apartment, and started your new job as a college professor. Before Lando you had been the best mathematician in the world. You had offers from every college from every college, but you chose the one closest to home. You didn’t think about Lando for months. You focused all of you attention on your students, all of your life was spent around numbers. You were finally happy. For the first time in a long time, you felt appreciated, you felt beautiful, and you felt happy. 

“Y/n,” the British accent you knew so well made you physically cringe. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Is it a mathematical problem?” you asked, not turning around as you sorted through papers. 

“Not really?” he chuckled. “Please just look at me.”

You slowly turned around and looked at him. He looked like shit. 

“I won,” he smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile. “I’m the Champion of the World.”

You held out your hand to shake his. “Congratulations.”

He took it with a frown. “I’m quitting F1.”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that. “Why?”

“I did something really fucking stupid two years ago, and i need to make it right,” he admitted. “Y/n, I’m sorry. There’s no one else for me. You’re it. You’re my person, you make me feel so alive, so happy, so free, and I couldn’t even imagine what life would be like without you. Then I lived it. And it sucked. I know I’m an asshole, and I know you’re probably much better off without me, but I’m begging you, just let me back in your life, please? I’m falling apart without you baby.”

You stared at him. “Lando, I’m not asking you to stop racing because of me-”

“I did,” he smiled. 

“I’m not taking you back,” you insisted. “You made me feel like a shell of my actual self for a year, and I held on because I knew you needed a punching bag so that you wouldn’t take it out on the people around you. I don’t miss you. I don’t love you. I don’t want to see you.”

His face fell and he was quiet for a moment. “So I’ve really fucked it up?”

“Yeah, now get the fuck out of my lab.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅ A few months went by and the 2026 season started, and Landow as still on the grid, shocker. You didn’t care, he was a fucking asshole who didn’t deserve your time or companionship. You hoped he would choke every race start (which he did), get outperformed by Oscar (which he did), and loose to the WDC to Oscar (which he did). Karma.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[cocoamide]

YOU'RE MY WISHLIST! ♡

⟡ synopsis ─ gojo satoru's the man who seems to be everywhere you go, whether it be within the comfort of your own home or miles away from the place. well, guess what happens when you show up looking a little too fine at your college's annual christmas eve party?

꣑ৎ content ─ MDNI, brother'sbsf!satoru / collegesenior!satoru x afab!reader, reader is suguru's younger sister, no use of y/n, reader can't escape him, suggestive content, reader is in love w/ gojo (and vice versa), intentional use of lowercase, usage of pet names e.g baby, pretty, good girl, etc., smut in the form of fingering, and probably more idk

◖word count — 2.6k

☆ credits ─ live laugh love @anitalenia 4 the gorgeous divider <3 no specific inspiration for this fic, just felt like writing one fueled by my christmas spirit (i have never celebrated christmas in my life, so if u caught me lacking, no u didn't!)

꩜ author's note ─ first fic ever & ofc it's ft. my man !! i'm not v satisfied with this work and it was really rushed towards the end, so feedback is much appreciated :3 merry xmas to all those celebrating and happy holidays ♡ title's from "a nonsense christmas" by sabrina carpenter :3

when you left home for college, you were certain you’d outrun the real-life horrors of your past— your parents' scoldings, the shitty food served at your school's cafeteria, the fake people you were surrounded by, and most importantly, your brother's best friend, gojo satoru, who just seemed to get finer with every single passing day.

the man was, for some reason, genetically white-haired all over. yeah, he had albinism, but god, the sight of him was no less than breath-taking. his sparkling, cerulean orbs, which glowed mesmerizingly both under the moonlight and the sun, seemed more and more enchanting with each passing moment. as the years went by with him by your brother's side, you told yourself to look away, refusing to acknowledge the feelings that flickered inside whenever you saw him. you did whatever you could to let go of them— tried to distract yourself with the shittiest of boyfriends, avoided him at school, locked yourself up in your room whenever he came over to hang out with your brother, you name it.

however, it seemed that luck hated, no, despised your embrace no matter how much you yearned for it, considering how the menace was always hovering around, inserting himself into your life at the most inconvenient moments. you're rehearsing for a school play in an empty classroom? the next thing you know, he has an arm propped around your shoulder and smiling at you in the most stupidly handsome way ever with a lollipop in his mouth as he asks you to just... practice with him around. oh, you're trying to get him off of you now? he'll steal your script before you can escape him and raise his hand up as high in the air as possible so you can't reach it. "hey, give it back!" you exclaim, only to be met by a smug smirk on his face and the most annoying "nuh-uh." he completely refuses unless you promise to not kick him out until the practice session is over.

you're walking back home with your brother, suguru? oops, gojo is there too! he's ruffling your hair no matter how pissed you get and yell at him; he only finds joy and pleasure in seeing you in this enraged state. whether he was a sadist, masochist, or simply insane, you did not know.

so, starting college felt like stepping into freedom. no more conversations centered around satoru, no more being so pissed you lose your voice from screaming, and no more late-night sob sessions everytime he got a new girlfriend.

however, it seemed that you'd forgotten that the stars didn't quite align for you, and the universe had decided to remind you of that very fact by ensuring that satoru received enough distinctions to be able to transfer universities. oh, and of course, the one he'd chosen just had to be the one you'd decided to spend the next 4 years of your life in. it wasn't until after you’d moved into your dorm and started your classes that you found out.

the first time you saw him around campus, you were freaked the fuck out. nevertheless, you simply assumed he was visiting a friend or relative and dismissed the sight.

however, much to your dismay, you discovered that he was, in fact, a senior at your college—a 2nd year, to be exact. it wouldn't be an understatement to assume you nearly had a heart attack when you found out, considering how this was the same guy who used to have a 2.6 gpa back in high school. when did he even start taking his studies seriously and lock in hard enough to meet the criteria and eligibility for your university, one of the most prestigious in the entire country? instead of rooting for you, fate just had to be your biggest hater.

every single time you saw him around, gojo would come up to you to exchange greetings and obviously, tease you about the most embarrassing things from your past while his obnoxious fangirls stared you the fuck down, wondering why he's so close to you even though you're just a freshman who should have nothing to do with him.

what surprised you more, however, was that you sometimes shared the same sentiment as them because you were definitely never this close with satoru. not in all the years your brother used to hang out with him, or all the times you'd seen each other on family dinners. sure, he'd teased you plenty, but he had no real concern or curiosity towards you. you found him walking you to classes, treating you to coffee and meals, buying you all the snacks you could ever need during exam preparations and so much more that you could never even list down.

and worst of all, the feelings you'd so desperately pushed away in the past had now creeped their way back into your heart and embedded every inch of your soul even deeper.

it struck you then—satoru’s actions might not be out of pure obligation. that would’ve been far too simple, too detached for someone like satoru. maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it, something unspoken lingering beneath it all. you couldn’t say for sure if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it felt personal, like you mattered in a way that went beyond the promises he'd made to your elder brother and family.

but still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just in your head. satoru’s actions, the way he treated you—it didn’t necessarily mean what you thought it did. it could be nothing—satoru’s actions didn’t have to mean anything. maybe you were just fooling yourself, letting your feelings cloud your judgment. so, you buried them as deep as you could, pushing them aside, telling yourself that letting go was the only way to protect yourself from the uncertainty. it was easier to convince yourself that you were just being delusional instead of facing what could be very real.

although, you do seriously question your latter supposition at your annual college christmas eve party when satoru, dressed in the sexiest 3-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with a black tie, has you pinned against the door of the nearest bathroom. if haven't had the opportunity to pay enough attention to his luminous, cerulean eyes up until now, you do at this very moment when he's staring at you like a predator would at it's prey.

"satoru," you let out a breath you weren't aware of holding, "what are you doing?" gojo, whose gaze had shifted down to your lips, let out a chuckle. "oh, so it's satoru now," he murmured, his hand pushing your hair behind your ear. "fine, 'toru..," you pronounce, going back to the nickname you'd started calling him during the while you'd spent with him. "that's more like it." his eyes meet yours again, conveying the desire and thirst that stirred within him— for how long, nobody knows.

the air around you two was thicker than usual, laced with tension as well as something… else. "you still haven't answered my question." upon your words, the white-haired man's face broke out into a cupid-induced smile, the most beautiful you'd ever seen. "well," his right thumb traced the outline of your lips so light as if you'd break from further pressure, "i thought you looked beautiful." what he says renders you speechless, your throat gone dry and your cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose (in his eyes, at least.) "you always do, but even more so today." and if you weren't already a flustered mess, you would most certainly be now.

your reaction only draws a smirk on his face, and he decides to tease you a little more. "so, on that note, what do you think i'm doing?," his voice lowers as his hand traces its way down to your neck. "i... uh- i don't know... you tell me." satoru grins, only wanting to push you further.

"yeah? how about i show you instead?" and a mere instant later, his lips come crashing down on yours— you couldn't say you hadn't been expecting or anticipating it, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the way his warm and impossibly soft lips felt against yours. initially, you froze, and you came to realise that all the possibilities you'd once ignored were now very much real.

it wasn't a bad thing— no, nowhere near it, maybe even one of the best that could ever happen to you. however, it did feel like too much of a development to be able to process in a matter of seconds.

upon the realisation that you hadn't responded to his advances, satoru pulled back from the kiss, seeming rather puzzled. "was i wrong?" he inquires, voice lower and deeper than it normally would be.

the melodic sound of his voice is what breaks your trance and serves as your call back to reality. you wanted to say no, reach for his collar, get on your tip-toes and lean in to kiss him, but you were stuck in place. you couldn't find your voice or your words, and it felt like your heels were superglued to the tiles of the bathroom floor.

if it hadn't already been obvious, you'd been yearning for this moment for god knows how long, and now that it was handed to you on a sliver platter, you couldn't simply pass up on it. being well aware of the fact that this encounter could change your and satoru's relationship for either the better or the worse, you took a deep breath, cupped the sides of his face, and tilted your head just enough to be able to kiss the man. your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, if that was possible.

being the way he is, satoru smiled into the kiss and lowered his hands to your hips. he could tell you were pouring each and every emotion from both the past and the present, and of course, he was doing the same.

it was inevitable, really— now that you could feel his skin against yours, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together and figure out that this was all bound to happen, already having been inked into the wondrous book of fate.

and so, for the first time in all the years you'd spent alongside satoru, you could say that the universe was, in fact, rooting for you. the way gojo's lips moved against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world when he pulled away, the way the both of you heavily panted but still chased each other's warmth again barely seconds later, are more than enough confirmation.

"no, you weren't," you reply, feeling giddier than you ever had. "i wasn't what?" his hands caress your cheek with a carefulness that was almost unlike him, and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest (in the best way possible.) "you weren't wrong."

"and i'm still not wrong if i do this?" his large hand reached under your clothes and wandered up to your waist, resting over the skin of the region. "or this?" his mouth had reached your neck, leaving kisses-turned-bites all over, which were sure to transform into hickeys.

"no... no, you're not," you let out breathlessly, unable to escape the fire coursing through your veins at the slightest touch. you wanted more, so much more, and satoru was the only one who could fulfil your needs— not that you would have it any other way.

"you sure, pretty?" the corner of his mouth went up, resulting in a lopsided grin— he was obviously teasing you, that was just the way he was and always had been.

"uh-huh," you nod to reaffirm your statement. "good girl," he breathes out, only contributing to the echoes in the parts of your body which ached for him so badly.

his long fingers played and toyed with the hem of your dress, as if to test the waters. when you didn't resist, his hand sneaked up your thigh, gently fondling the skin.

despite the confidence in his actions, he observed every expression on your face cautiously, ensuring that nothing he did hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. when you show no signs on unease but instead only desire, he goes on to satisfy and soothe your needs.

his fingers traced their way up your inner thighs and lurked over the already soaked fabric of your underwear, bringing about a chuckle from satoru. "so needy for me already, hm?" he remarks, as if his own pants weren't tightening upon the observation.

"shut up, 'toru..." you're trying to regain your composure and keep up an attitude, but to no avail. the fact that he has you exactly where he wants you isn't helping, either. you're even trying to avoid his gaze, but the way you can feel his presence everywhere makes it impossible to do so— besides, he's making you face him again using his index finger and thumb to hold your chin in between, as he whispers out a "look at me, baby."

and when you do, you have to let out a gasp at the sight of him— his disheveled hair which was perfectly tamed at the start of the night, his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you like you're his entire world and his lips that are now slightly bruised and swollen from the kisses you've shared. it was beyond enough to get you all the more hot and bothered.

oh, but that's not the only factor contributing to the sounds you're making— it's also the way he's pulled your panties to the side and is currently tracing your slit ever so slowly. "want more, princess?" nearly mocking tone.

you hardly even manage to let out a hum before his slender fingers are running over the most sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from you. your eyes roll all the way back when one of his digits slides inside you just a moment later— you'd never been this sensitive, but it seems that was going to be entirely different with satoru.

he added one after the other, and now, three of his freakishly large fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly— he was so good with them, you could practically taste your orgasm about to wash over you.

"'m close, satoru," you whimper out almost pathetically, and his fingers are going even deeper now, hitting the spots you'd never even dreamt of reaching on your own. "yeah? is my princess gonna cum for me?" his voice is rough and he's groaning as if he's the one receiving the pleasure.

you can only nod as your arousal overwhelms you, white ropes of cum spurting out from your throbbing hole with one final thrust of his fingers. his entire hand was covered in your fluids, which he brought up to his mouth to be able to savor the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. god, he was an obsessed freak when it came to you.

"ew, satoru! why would you do that?" you hold back a giggle, expressing faux disgust at his actions. he only kisses you in response instead of using his words, making sure you get to taste what he'd drawn out of you as well.

"you think suguru's gonna be mad?" he asks, obviously amused at the idea of your brother enraged when he finds out what you and satoru have done. "oh yeah, definitely." he sweetly presses yet another kiss to your lips.

"if it's at the expense of me getting everything i wished for, i don't care, babe."

@cuntphoric :33

[chlix]

baby, it's cold outside (no seriously it's crazy out there)

bf! chan x gn! reader: your car breaks down in a snowstorm and you have to walk home. chan is there to comfort you and warm you back up

pairing: chan x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: snowstorms, car trouble, sickness, a long series of unfortunate events that leave the reader miserable for most of the fic

a/n: this is a request from @caticorn61 who wanted chan being apologetic for not answering his phone after reader's car broke down. this is perhaps more than what u asked for 😅 but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

You are on a historic run of bad days.

You've never considered yourself to be particularly unlucky, but this past week has had you rethinking that orientation. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. On Monday your alarm didn't go off, making you late for work. Even worse, there was a meeting you'd forgotten about, so you had to slide awkwardly into the back of the room and pretend you didn't feel everyone's annoyed gazes. Tuesday was grocery shopping day, but you found out they discontinued your favorite brand of chips, and raised the price of an alternative, so you were forced to go home chip-less. Then, when you tried to take the groceries out of the car, one of the bags split open and sent your eggs, cheese, and blueberries crashing to the ground, buried in slush and snow. A total waste. Wednesday you woke up to find your heating had shut off in the night, and you were now shaking fit to break apart. Although maintenance promptly fixed your radiator, you developed an itch in your throat that only grew throughout the day and had developed into a full-blown cough by the next morning.

Which is where you are now on a subzero Thursday morning, ill and irritated and crawling your way towards the end of the week.

Your boyfriend, Chan, talks to you on the phone in soothing tones.

"I'm sorry your week has been so rough, baby," he says, and you can hear the dripping sympathy through the phone. "I know how it feels when little things pile up like that."

"I just don't know if I can take it anymore," you tell him. "It's like I've been cursed. I'm afraid if I walk outside a piano will fall on me and crush me."

You're half-joking when you say that, but Chan can hear that the other half is vaguely on hysterical.

"I don't think anyone is moving pianos in this weather," he says very reasonably. "Just stay away from luxury apartments if you're worried."

You set your bag down and put your face in your hands, taking slow, deep breaths. Your phone is on speaker, and you can hear Chan hum, trying to comfort you even though he's in his own dorm across the city.

"It'll all be okay, Y/n. And I'll see you this weekend, yeah? I'll come over Friday night and you'll have me all to yourself. Just stay strong."

You exhale, long and loud. "You promise?"

"I promise. Be strong for me, babygirl."

You blink the dampness out of your eyes and straighten up. "Okay. I can do that."

"And drink some tea. Your voice sounds kind of rough."

"Don't get me started again, please."

By the time you hang up, you don't feel understood, but you do feel seen. You fill up a thermos with tea, put on your coat, and mentally prepare yourself to leave the apartment.

It's only two more days, you remind yourself. The weekend will fix me. It'll break this curse that's been placed upon me. You force yourself to have a positive outlook. You will not have another bad day. You will be strong.

All day, you force yourself to react to every potentially meltdown-inducing incident with grace and poise. You realize you forgot your lunch and have to eat cheap candy from the vending machine for lunch? That's totally fine. Your boss adds another item to your to list, forcing you to stay later to finish everything and close up? You really don't mind. Your best friend texts you that she's been stalking her ex on Instagram again and you won't believe it but he already has a new girlfriend, y/n, can you fucking believe it, we've only been broken up for like two weeks and he's buying her fucking jewelry, and you respond what an asshole. he has a new gf and he didn't block his ex? while your eye twitches.

By the time you finish all your tasks and close up, your face hurts from holding a smile you don't feel. You're the last one out, so you make sure the building is locked and make your way across the empty parking lot to your car. The forecast predicted snow tonight, and already the ground is littered with white. The flakes are fat and sticky- they're already building up on the undisturbed portions of pavement. You have to quickly brush off your windows and mirrors before you can get into your car, slamming the door behind you.

You made it. You survived. It was a godawful Thursday but you conquered it.

"One more day," you whisper to yourself. "Just one more day."

You lock the door and put the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights up and the engine turns.....and turns....and turns.....

A rock forms in your stomach.

"No," you say. "No no no no no." You twist the key again, but the engine whirs and whirs and whirs...and does not turn over. Your car does not start.

It's not news to you that your car is a piece of shit. You and Chan discuss this almost every night- what to do about this fuckass car. You've been resistant to letting him help you pay for a new one, partially because that's a lot of money and partly because you're sentimentally attached to the old rustbucket. You inherited it from a family member as a birthday gift, and so despite it being less than reliable you're hesitant to seek solutions. It's your first car, after all. It's a part of you now.

In this moment, however, you want to throw all that sentimentally down the drain along with the keys to this absolutely useless fucking rustbucket of a vehicle.

Not to worry, you tell yourself. I'll just call Chan to come get me. We can deal with my car in the morning.

You take out your phone and call him. The call rings out.

You stare at your phone, confused. It's not like him to ignore your calls, especially not at this hour. It's pitch black with winter but it's still arguably early in the night. Chan is likely to still be awake, but it's unlikely he's doing any kind of official task. And it's so late that he would know to answer; you would never call him for something frivolous at this time of night. You call again.

No answer.

Your patience is running thin now. You consider calling your best friend, but she's out of town visiting family. Your other friend, Seohyeon, doesn't have a car, and her boyfriend's car is currently being repaired. The bus you sometimes take is about a fifteen minute walk down the street, but it'll have stopped running this far out by now, so you'd have to walk to a further bus stop and then go to the transportation terminal and connect, which would take over an hour. You could walk to the subway, you think, but you lost your subway card weeks ago and never got around to replacing it, and honestly it just seems like a whole ordeal you can't bring yourself to stomach right now. Chills go down your spine, and you can't tell if it's from the cold or from the increasing precarity of your situation.

You try the engine again. No dice.

You call Chan again. Voicemail again.

You lean your head on the steering wheel and take long, deep breaths. Outside your window, the wind is picking up, making the snow fall at a diagonal instead of straight down. It would be terrible to walk in, especially because the direction you need to go to get home would cause the snow to blow right in your face. Your throat is killing you, but your thermos of tea is long since empty. Maybe you should just go back into the work building and hunker down for the night. Maybe you should sit in the car and turn into an icicle. Your head is a foggy mess, thoughts twisting all around. You're getting hysterical again. You can feel yourself cracking to pieces.

Think, y/n. Who else can you call?

You're all out of people you know personally, but you could call an Uber. It's pricey and arguably unsafe, and you normally wouldn't, but these are extenuating circumstances. It solves the problem of being stranded, and again, you can deal with your car at a later point. And at least when Chan finally calls you back, you'll be safe at home, so he won't have to feel guilty about missing your calls three times.

You lean back in your seat and open the Uber app. Thankfully you still have it installed, and it still has all your info in it from the last time you called someone to take you home. Just as you're about to finish the transaction, your phone freezes. The screen flashes, then goes dark. You press the power button once, then again, frantically.

Your phone is dead.

Immediately, you scramble for your console, searching for a power cable to connect the phone to the car battery. Your cable is gone. You remember, horrified, that you took the cable out of your car because the one in your living room at home had started fraying. You meant to replace it but you never did. You're normally pretty good at leaving the house in the morning with it mostly charged.

But it's nighttime now, and your battery is dead. You have no charging cables, which means you can't call an Uber. You can't call anybody. And you can't even go to the subway now because your debit card is on your phone, so you can't refill your subway card.

A terrible despair fills you.

You have to walk home in a snowstorm.

As soon as the thought materializes, tears start to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to take, would be too much for you even if you'd had a perfectly good day today. This isn't fait. How can this be happening to you? Why is the universe punishing you like this? And when is it going to stop? Again you wish you could just sit in your car and turn into an icicle, let someone else defrost you in the morning. You think having a piano fall on your head would be better than this.

Eventually you manage to get yourself to calm down. Sitting in this car freezing isn't gonna do you any good. It'll only get colder by the hour. You need to walk to the far bus stop and catch another bus before they actually stop running, and you really are stranded instead of just doomed to walk forty minutes in a blizzard.

As if there's a difference, you think bitterly as you put your useless phone into your bag and bundle everything up. You put your gloves back on, and your hat. You step out of your car, slamming the door behind you, and zip up your jacket. Of course, you hadn't thought to wear a scarf today, so your face will just have to freeze. After only 30 seconds you feel your lips cracking.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay okay okay okay."

You set off in the direction of the bus.

-/-

The journey is long and cold. It's not so much the temperature as the fact that you never have the chance to get used to it because it just keeps getting holder as the night wears on. It takes a ridiculously long time to walk to the bus stop, because you're fighting headwind every step of the way. You want to close your eyes against the snow, but if you do that you'll veer off course or fall into the road or trip on an ice slick and die, so you brave the stinging and push forward. Then you wait at the bus stop so long that your already sore feet start to scream with pain. Your phone is dead, so there's no way for you to track the bus, but you conclude you must have just missed the previous one as it takes a full thirty minutes for it to come again. By the time the bus pulls up in front of you, your feet are almost buried, and when you take your seat, every part of you squelches and slides as the snow melts, drenching your clothes.

The bus is at least warm, and so is the transport center, but the second bus drops you off another twenty-five minute walk from your apartment and you're forced to walk- you guessed it!- uphill. Your calves are screaming from the exertion, and from cold, and from keeping your balance as you trudge through the piling snow. You have a death grip on your keys- if they were to fall out somewhere between work and home you would simply lie down on the ground and let the snow bury you. It would be more than you could take. But your keys stay in your tightly clenched fists, and soon your apartment building becomes visible through the dark and haze. You want to cry tears of relief but your tear ducts are frozen shut.

By the time you traipse up the steps of your apartment, you feel more popsicle than person. You are so cold. Your hands shake so much it takes you a few tries to get the keys from your pocket and stick them in the lock. You step inside, sagging as the heat blasts you in the face. All you want to do is collapse into bed and curl under your blankets where the world can't see you, to get a little bit of sleep before your torture begins anew tomorrow. The thought of going to work on Friday strikes a physical pain in you. You've barely survived today, and yet tomorrow looms terrible just out of reach.

You go to turn on the lights only to realize that the lights are already on. Your heart skips a beat. Did someone break into your apartment? Should you turn around and flee? But you don't have a car, and you certainly aren't walking back to the bus stop. You have nowhere to go.

A figure turns the corner and you flinch back, hands half-raised in some pathetic attempt to defend yourself-

It's Chan. He turns the corner and it's your boyfriend, standing on your tile floor in sweats and a big sweater, eyes bright and twinkling with how excited he is to see you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Chan says. "You're finally back. I saw you called earlier and got worried something was wrong."

You burst into tears. You're crying before you even know it, violent sobs that shake you and make water droplets roll off your soaked hair. Salt burns your frozen tear ducts, and snow is slipping down your collar, but all these small discomforts are overshadowed by the pure and all-consuming relief that your boyfriend is here in the flesh, asking after you and taking care of you, and you can finally stop fighting to keep it together. You can rest.

Chan makes a sound of alarm and rushes forward to grab you as you start to list.

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Christ, you look terrible. Are you sick?" He tries to put his hand against your forehead but pulls it away just as fast. "You're cold as ice, y/n."

"I w-walked home," you try to explain. Your tongue is thick in your mouth, and it's hard to get enough air to speak through your sobs. "Car broke down, phone died, b-bus was late."

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry. That sounds terrible."

His validation of your misery just makes you cry harder. Chan pulls you into a fierce hug and you bury your face in his shoulder and absolutely lose it. All the stress of the last week crashes down on you at once, your misery overwhelming you. You grab at his clothes with gloved hands, and there's about four layers of clothes between you, and it's not enough, you want to be closer. But at the same time you can't make yourself pull away from Chan's embrace. He whispers soothing words in your ear, rocks you back and forth, presses closed mouth kisses to any part of you he can reach. He doesn't shush you, or try to calm you down. He just lets you have the emotional release he knows you sorely need.

When your cries start to slow, he gives you one final squeeze to catch your attention, and whispers, "We need to get you out of these clothes, hmm? Does that sound okay?"

You swallow the last of your sobs and nod morosely.

"Okay then. Let's take your jacket off. It's soaking wet by now."

You step back from Chan, still holding on to his arm as you stumble and sway. You're so tired. Standing up for even a second longer is too big of an ask.

"Just lean on me. It's okay, I won't let you fall."

Together, you unfasten and take off your heavy winter coat, letting it fall to the floor with the slush you dragged in. Chan is the one who crouches down to untie your shoes, and you lean on him for support as you remove one foot, then the other.

"Good job," he praises, pressing a kiss to your snow-soaked hair. "Let's get you warmed up now."

He leads you to the bathroom and starts the water running in the tub. You listlessly undress, leaning on the counter for support when you need it. While the tub is filling, Chan tries to leave, but you catch him by the shoulder on his way past you, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," he says. "I just want to get you a change of clothes."

You hesitantly let go of him, and he flashes you a reassuring smile before he slips out. You sit down on the toilet and wait patiently for his return, watching the water fill the tub slowly and feeling your thoughts move sluggishly in your brain.

The sound of the water stopping jolts you back to the present. Chan is back, in a regular t-shirt this time, leaning over the bathtub to make sure the water is the right temperature. Deeming it good enough, he turns back to you and stretches out a hand to you.

As soon as you sit down in the warm water, you feel about ten times better. The warmth unties some of the tension that coils your muscles, and it quells the shivering that had started up as you were sitting on the toilet waiting to be told what to do. Chan urges you to slide down so you're almost submerged, making sure almost all your body is enveloped in warmth, and starts dumping warm water over your head, soaking your hair and washing out the remnants of grime and slush. He's quiet as he does it, humming a low tune, and you close your eyes and let him do as he wants. When he's done, he taps your shoulder, and you sit up, mourning the loss of warmth as your back and chest are exposed to the bathroom air.

"Do you mind?" he asks. You shake his head, uncaring of what he's referring to. You'd let him do anything to you in this state. It turns out "anything" means washing your back, so you again sit still and let him do as he pleases. The pressure of his hands and the sound of his voice, still humming, gradually soothe your mind and body. You stop shivering and tune back into your surroundings.

He's subtly watching your face, so he sees when you come back to yourself and drops his neutral expression. "Back with me?"

You nod. The floaty feelings from being cold and hysterical are gone, but that just means the exhaustion of your day is hitting you full force. You hold out your hand for the washcloth so you can clean the rest of yourself, and he hands it over, but doesn't move to leave, which you appreciate. Now that you're calmer, you think you might be a little more embarrassed asking him to stay.

"I know you said this morning you were cursed, but I didn't think you meant literally," he tries to joke.

You let out a long breath. "I didn't think I meant literally either."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug as you rub the washcloth along your legs, wincing when you remove your still-freezing toes from the water. "What can I say? It was a shit day at work with a shit ending."

"You said your car broke down."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You are not in the mood for this argument. "It just wouldn't start. I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Y/n..." He doesn't say anything more. He knows as well as you do that you'll get nowhere. It's enough to set you off though, now that your exhaustion is making you irritatble.

"It wouldn't have mattered either way if you'd picked up the phone when I called you," you snap. It's unfair and you know it, but before you can begin to feel remorse, Chan's face turns to one of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I still had it silenced from work and didn't realize. When I saw that you called me I tried to call back but the calls didn't go through."

"My phone died. That's why I didn't call an Uber."

Chan shakes his head. "I would call this comical if it wasn't so clearly stressing you out."

"You can still call it comical. Just not within earshot."

"Surely you think better of me than that."

"I do," you say, completely serious. "Sorry. I'm not mad you didn't answer. It's just been a shitty day."

Chan squeezes your shoulder in understanding. "It's alright. I get it."

"I'm really grateful you're here," you say, and you're getting choked up again, emotions all out of whack. "I've never been so happy to see anyone."

"You called three times. Since I couldn't get a hold of you, I hoped you'd still come home and we could talk here."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm exactly as good as you deserve." He leans down to kiss you, long and loving and warm, and the last of the chill in your bones slides away.

-/-

The next morning, Chan calls you in sick before you even wake up. He has to leave for the morning, but comes back around noon with ingredients to make you soup and tea, and rouses you for lunch with all the care and gentleness in the world.  He curls next to you in bed despite your protests that you'll get him sick, but then, it's not like you protest that hard. You're still feverish and needy, and maybe it's not the most ridiculous thing in the world to want to lie in your boyfriend's arms as you recover from what you're pretty sure is mild hypothermia mixed with the flu.

"We were gonna hang out this weekend," you say morosely. "Now I'm trapped in this bed and you're stuck taking care of me."

"Taking care of you is my favorite form of hanging out," he informs you, cleaning away the mug and bowl to bring back to the kitchen. "And hanging up the phone on your boss is my favorite passtime."

"You did not hang up on them," you gasp, hand over your mouth.

Chan shrugs, unbothered. "They seemed a little too annoyed about my request to not tow your car out of the parking lot. I made it very clear that it better be there when you get back on Monday or else."

"So selfless. You could've let them tow it and finally been victorious."

He turns from the kitchen and sits back down on the bed. "You like that car. I'm not going to keep insisting you get rid of it when it means so much to you. Even if I do blame it for the events of yesterday." You glare and he puts his hands up defensively. "If it's not my fault or your fault then I have to blame the car. Sorry not sorry."

"Blame the cursed spirit following me around," you say, sinking miserably into the blankets. "It possessed the engine of my car just to torment me."

"Even more reason to get rid of it."

You're feverish and tired, but the conversation makes you smile nonetheless. "Ask me again when my fever breaks if you still think I should keep it. Maybe it'll burn away the sentimental attachment."

"Don't get my hopes up."

You close your eyes as Chan kisses your forehead, and you slide easily into pleasant dreams.

[sports-on-sundays]

this simple feeling / LN4 & OP81 / Part 3

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Link to part 1, link to part 2

Warnings: I think I might've messed up the timeline just alittle bit but that's okayyyy (probably should have all taken place like a week or two later but I only realized that after it was all written so I guess you'll just have to deal with it; I'm sincerely sorry), language, sickness, vertigo, let me know if there's more I missed

Requested?: To be honest, I don't think so, but let me know if I forgot about you.👍

A handsome smile adorns Lando Norris's lips as he strolls down the Spanish paddock, and it's extraordinary to believe that despite his outside cover, he has the most pounding headache.

It's all my fucking fault, his mind roars as he catches the eye of Max Verstappen walking past and gives him a friendly wave. Y/n is a nervous wreck over the whole situation, and Oscar seems like he's going to blow if he sees me show Y/n affection one more time.

Why did I ever fucking start this stupid, stupid 'relationship?' It's a mess, and it's all my fault.

And I've got no way of fixing it.

Maybe I should have just given up Y/n in the first place, before all this happened.

Maybe I am wrong for getting in the way of her and Oscar.

But a part of him knows that's not right. He could never give you up. You could never give him up. And neither of you could ever give up on Oscar.

Even though it's starting to look like that might just be the best for him. Or at least, the best option at this point.

After I've gone and messed it all up.

For once in his life, sleep won't just take Oscar Piastri.

It sounds stupid, because he shouldn't be going to sleep. Not here. Not now. But as he lay in his driver's room, all he wishes is for sleep to take him away from his never-ending thoughts into a peaceful, sweet, dreamless slumber.

But every time he tries to replace his current ones with new ones, his brain always leads him back to the main point:

You messed up.

He sighs. He's just being over dramatic, isn't he? Isn't that all it is? Shouldn't he just get over himself?

It's not that he doesn't like Lando. In fact, he does. A... well, a lot. He could see himself having real affection towards him.

He might even want to.

But that longing, confused part in his brain keeps coming back to: But what if Y/n loves him more? Isn't he just getting in the way of what you always wanted?

Isn't this unfair, Oscar?

But that's just the worst part of it all.

It's not unfair. Not one bit.

For your whole life, Oscar has known you. For years, he's cared about you. He's even loved you. He just never said it. Always held back. When he shouldn't have.

If he had just acted way before, in the beginning, it would've been just you and him. That's the way it would have been, and Lando would have never gotten in the way.

But, Oscar's brain whispers, almost like a sneaking suspicion, do you really want Lando out of this, now that he's in it?

Maybe I just have to learn to accept it. Accept him. Trust them both.

Do I just need to get over myself?

Because I am the only reason why this isn't working...

Right?

No one else can feel it, but it's getting awkward. Not even so much in private. In private, Lando is honest, and Oscar tries. In private, you see. They're not all lovey dovey, but they care about each other. It's like all is well, though you and Lando both know how Oscar can get.

But in public, it's worse. Terribly worse. It's like Lando and Oscar want to have something, but they can't. It's like Lando wants it but Oscar won't let him... and, at the same time, as if Oscar wants it but Oscar also won't let himself.

Why not?

In public, since they have to fake, it's like it's hard not to. Because they're closer than friends, but not more than that.

In private, they're trying to fake, so it almost comes easier.

But in public, they almost avoid each other at the same time as being super friendly with each other when they do have to talk.

You hate it.

A huge part of you wonders: If Oscar likes Lando back, why doesn't he just relax and let this whole thing work? Doesn't he need it?

Doesn't he need Lando, just the same way I need him?

He certainly acts like it. Sometimes. The only solution you can think of, though a not very clear or perhaps not very accurate one, and one with certainly no answer, is this:

He wants you more than anything. But he needs Lando more than anything.

But because he wants you so bad, it hurts him to see Lando having you.

Though he has you, too.

But he can't let himself break out and let himself love Lando back, because his feelings towards you are so incredibly strong.

You sigh.

Oscar. Why can't you just give up? Give in? Why can't I show you just how much I adore you?

What do I have to do to show you?

Is there anything I can do that would be enough?

You sigh. What if you're all wrong? What if Oscar really can't love Lando back? What if this whole thing is bound to fail?

What if there's absolutely no solution?

As anxiety begins to fill your chest, you feel as though you're right back at square one again.

Why didn't I just choose, from the beginning? Wouldn't it have been better to break one of their hearts, than all three of our hearts?

Because isn't that what is going on right now?

We're all breaking.

And we wouldn't be if I hadn't ever, ever let it get this fair.

Damn it.

It really is all my fault.

Maybe it's all the stress, or maybe it's just the natural way of things, but either way, by the time a week later that the Austrian Grand Prix comes around, you are in no world feeling well enough to go to it.

Of course, that's fine. You're sick; no one will have a problem with you staying home to rest up and get better. There are plenty of other people who can take care of your usual responsibilities for one race weekend. That's not really a big deal at all.

Of course, Lando and Oscar sure treated the whole thing as one, both of them talking about how one of them should stay with you, and how are you going to get on by yourself, and they feel like such bad boyfriends for leaving you in your unwell state, and so on. Blah, blah, blah.

Really, it was the sweetest thing. You know you shouldn't complain. But you did end up telling the two they were both wrong, not to worry, go race, and it's quite easy to FaceTime and stay in touch so they can check up on you over the weekend.

So despite whatever your boyfriends think about it, that's the decision you made sure was made, because there was no way you'd let either of them do something so ridiculous as to miss a race because of you.

Especially not the Austrian Grand Prix, for God's sake.

Well, whether Lando and Oscar would admit it or not, both of them, in their own little ways, see this as an opportunity for connection with each other.

One-on-one.

So now, of course, Lando has been the sole thing, other than racing, that's been on Oscar's mind all weekend. So much so that he finds himself wandering towards Lando's driver's room after qualifying, his heart leading the way more so rather than his head.

When he reaches the door, he finds it ajar, and peeks in through the door frame, his heart pounding.

Why is his heart pounding?

He swallows, his eyes resting on Lando relaxing, scrolling his phone. He hasn't seen Oscar yet.

Lando. There's a lot I like about him.

Let's just try this. Just for now, forget about Y/n. Think about Lando. Think about all the reasons why you care about him. Think about it as if it were just you and him.

Would you want it to work?

He knows the answer, but wouldn't dare let himself consciously think it.

Oscar gently knocks on the door, as to avoid startling Lando, before saying softly, "Hey, Lando?"

The British man immediately looks up, his hazel eyes meeting Oscar's plain old brown ones. Though he doesn't smile, his eyes soften. And brighten. "Hey, Oscar." He sits up a bit, as to make more room on the sofa. "Wanna come in?"

Oscar nods, stepping inside. Gently closes the door behind himself. Somehow, Lando seems to understand.

He sits down. Closer to him. Turns and looks him right in the eyes. Opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it when he realizes he has nothing to say.

Lando talks instead. "How are you?"

"Fine... and you?"

"Good... I think the race should be promising."

Oscar nods in agreement. The silence feels so simply empty.

"You missing Y/n? Is that what it is?" Lando gently asks.

Oscar considers that for a few seconds, before slowly shaking his head 'no.' "Of course, I wouldn't mind her being here. But that's not it."

"What's 'it,' then?" Lando asks.

Somehow, he just knows, doesn't he?

Oscar's starting to see why you might love that about him so much.

"It's not Y/n I'm missing. I guess I'm missing you. And me. I'm missing us."

"Hm," Lando says simply, seeming to ponder that for a few seconds, before saying softly, almost as a dare, "How could you miss 'us,' if 'us' was never a thing?"

Oscar feels the sudden urge to reach out towards Lando. Put his hand on his, or fix that loose curl, or do something.

But he holds back. Like he's always done with you.

God damn it. Am I really doing it again?

What am I even doing?

"I guess..." Oscar murmurs after some hesitation, staring down towards the tiled floor, "I miss the 'us' that could be and should be but never has been."

Oscar feels Lando look up towards him, but continues staring at the floor.

"Look at me."

But Oscar doesn't dare.

That's when Lando gently moves his hand to grab Oscar's chin and force his head to look at him. Not in an overly gentle way, but not in a way that hurts.

Oscar sighs. Those eyes.

When did he start liking them so much?

"We can make that reality," Lando murmurs, in the same determined way he talks about sports, or strategies. "We can make it happen. You don't have to miss me, or Y/n, and we can make 'us' come true."

Oscar gulps. Nods, though he knows not why.

Maybe it's because I really do want it.

I do, don't I?

Us.

Lando reaches over and grabs Oscar's hand strongly. Wraps his hand around the other man's. "This simple feeling..." Lando whispers. "Don't you like it?"

Oscar swallows. "I don't know if I like it, but..."

Lando waits for him to finish, even after he's trailed off.

"...but I think I know that it's exactly what... what I need."

Lando sighs. A little smile even begins to sneak up on his lips, just gently. Softly. Hardly there.

That's when he leans in and pulls him into a hug. And embrace. And it's refuge that Oscar finds there, in his arms. The same kind of irreplaceable refuge he finds in your arms. He sighs, wrapping his arms back around Lando, feeling the warmth of his body around him like a blanket.

"This simple feeling," Oscar murmurs this time, mirroring Lando's words, swallowing, his voice cracking softly, though tears don't threaten to fall.

It's just a little raw.

"This simple feeling... it's exactly what I want. What I need. From both of you.

"It's like I'd be content if we let this last forever," Oscar finishes softly with, close to Lando's ear.

"We can make it last forever," Lando utters back.

And all time stops in that little room as the two men embrace. A cavern of honesty and truth.

A safe place that promises to hold them forever.

It's funny how someone's cares and concerns can be washed away so quickly.

Like, for example, Oscar's podium at the Austrian Grand Prix in 2024, seeing his team grin up at him, spraying the champagne with George and Carlos, the joy of getting second place.

Partially, also, the joy of being the one to score points for the team.

But once that's all done and he's talking and doing all that PR, it starts nagging at him. You're not here, which means Lando's all alone.

Probably fucking pissed off.

P20.

So it's a mix. He got 2nd! But Lando got 20th.

So he tries to get through all the PR gobbly-gook as fast as possible, while still putting on a good face, since he knows you'll particularly care a lot if he screws up all his interviews the one race you weren't able to make it.

As soon as he's set free from his duties, though, he rushes to Lando's driver's room. On the way, someone even grabs his arm, saying, "Oscar! Oscar! An autograph? Please?" but he brushes them off, saying, "If you stay around, I'll be back to give it to you!" before just running off again.

He honestly can't grasp why he's so particularly and intensely desperate to see Lando.

It's because he did something for me last night when I needed him. Now I can't just leave him when he needs me most.

Soon, he reaches the latched closed door and knocks hard, saying, "Lando? Are you in there?"

There's a few moments of silence, and for a moment Oscar's nerves tell him that Lando isn't even here, and that he ignored that fan for no reason at all, until those thoughts are interrupted with Lando responding with a heavy sigh in his voice, "Osc? You can come in."

Oscar sighs with a certain amount of relief before gently opening the door and letting it shut behind him.

Lando is standing, not facing Oscar, on his phone, texting. Head down.

"How're you-"

"Texting Y/n."

Oscar nods, slowly walking up behind him. He gently rests a hand on Lando's shoulder, and says softer, "What's she saying?"

"Everything she has to in order to try and make me feel less like shit."

"Is it working?"

Lando turns, looking over his shoulder back at Oscar with a wry smile, saying, "Not at all. Max is a fucking-"

"Cheater, aggressive driver, idiot, bad sportsman. I know that's everything you're going to say. You just need to blow off some steam, hm?"

Lando snorts, shutting off his phone, hanging his head. "I've had an hour and a half to do that since the race."

"It takes a while," Oscar says simply, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lando sighs, nodding. "I know... I guess I'm not even really that mad anymore. Just disappointed. And frustrated."

Oscar nods, glancing away, beginning to slip his hand off Lando's shoulder.

But Lando reaches back, slipping his hand over Oscar's to keep it there, dragging his other hand over his face with a heavy sigh

It's then that Oscar suddenly feels compelled to do something he never thought he would.

Yet he gives in, simply because it feels like exactly the right thing to do in the moment. So he wraps both arms around Lando from behind, pulling him towards himself, letting his nose and lips press against his neck, next to Lando's ear.

Lando sighs in something like contentment.

And Oscar feels himself smiling softly, before it quickly fades off, and he whispers gently in Lando's neck, "You're a good driver. You would've won that race. But I also know that means you'll be able to win the next one, hm?"

Lando nods, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right."

Oscar nods, murmuring, "But you have every right to be upset. And I'll be with you during that working through it as long as you want me to be."

Lando feels an unexpected smile begin to creep up on his face as he mutters, "I want you here with me every single moment you want to be here, Oscar."

"Yeah? It's funny how I've started to like to be with you more."

"I guess that's just my natural charm, hm?" Lando says softly, his smile growing.

Oscar can almost not believe how he naturally chuckles at that and responds softly, "I don't know about that..."

Lando is full on grinning now. That handsome, big, sunny smile of his. "Just ask Y/n about it. She'll tell you all about my charm."

"Hah," Oscar says sarcastically, but for some reason, instead of coldness, like that comment might used to have filled his chest with, he feels an undeniable, affectionate warmth fill his body.

A feeling that he seems to like a lot more.

He just re-wraps his arms around Lando and responds softly, "I'm sure Y/n would tell you all about my charm, too, Lando."

Lando smirks, glancing back at Oscar, meeting the Australian's milk chocolate eyes. "But you don't have to ask Y/n to hear about how charming you are, Oscar. I could talk about that all night." Lando's honestly not sure where all this bravery on his part is coming from, but he's honestly glad for it. Since it seems to be going down well.

Oscar's eyebrows raise as his light complexion becomes slightly flushed. "Hm. You could?"

"Oh yeah," Lando laughs a bit. A beautiful sound. Then the two remain in that peaceful silence, before Oscar lets his hands slip away from Lando gently.

Lando turns, taking the younger man's hand in his, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Hey. Congratulations on your P2, by the way. I was so caught up in my own shit, I completely forgot about your-"

"Don't worry," Oscar says, waving it off. "I don't mind. But thank you, anyway."

Lando grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying simply, "No, thank you, Oscar. Look at the way you've managed to cheer me up like that, huh?"

Oscar smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, perhaps in something like peace, or trust, for him to murmur, "Not sure how that happened..."

"Guess it's just that charm of yours we previously discussed, huh?"

And Oscar's eyes flutter open just in time to see Lando peck his lips.

And with Oscar's face fire hydrant red and Lando laughs filling the small room, I'll leave it up to the reader to go and imagine what could've happened next.

Oscar and Lando get out of the car, Lando holding some flowers and Oscar a grocery bag of goodies.

"You ready?" Lando says with a little smile, nodding to Oscar.

"Can't wait to see her, despite the poor state she must be in," Oscar says with a nod, and is about to start walking, when he suddenly stops and, with only a moment of hesitation beforehand, holds his hand out to Lando to take.

Lando looks at the hand, before looking up at Oscar again, taking his hand, with a little grin. He gives him a nod, before the two head off towards the house, hand-in-hand.

You're awakened in your feverish state by the ringing of the doorbell. You know you should get up and at least look to see who it is, but at the same time, who could it be? You're not expecting anyone. So you opt for the easier decision to just assume it's something unimportant like the mailman or something and leave it, letting yourself drift back into your feverish half-sleep.

But just as you're about to fully drift back off into slumber, it rings again. You sigh and stand up with an ornery groan, dragging your shaky legs to the window, to peek out of it, to see what on earth is so important.

But you stop as soon as you see them.

Your boys.

Lando holding flowers.

And what's more, they're holding each other's hands.

And they both look completely comfortable with it.

Really? Even Oscar?

He's not that good of an actor!

Soft smiles adorn both their handsome, perfect faces, shining like a charming prince and a shining knight.

Your foggy brain doesn't take the time to consider which is the prince and which is the knight, and you instead rush to the door right away, unlocking it and exclaiming, "Lan! Osc!" You stumble a bit dizzily as your weakened legs threaten to give out, but Lando's arm is there to steady you right away, keeping you from falling.

"Hey, Y/n," Oscar says gently, putting his arm on yours as Lando plants a quick kiss on your forehead, asking, "You okay?"

You sigh, nodding, and saying after the wave of vertigo subsides, "Just still a bit sick."

"No kidding. My God. Let's get you back inside and in your bed," Lando says gently, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as the three of you head inside and to your bedroom.

Once you're there and crawling back into bed, Lando hands Oscar the flowers and says, reaching in the shopping bag, "Got you some chicken noodle soup, Y/n. Want me to make you some?"

"Oh, God," you murmur, sinking back down against the pillow, "Yes, Lando, that'd be great."

He nods and leaves, going off to do that, leaving you with Oscar.

The first thing Oscar does is say, taking the blanket from the bottom of the bed, "Want this on?"

You nod, sniffing up your stuffed up nose. He gently tucks you in, kisses your forehead right where Lando kissed it, and grabs a tissue for you, seemingly out of thin air.

If you weren't a bit feverish, maybe you would of just known he got it out of the shopping bag. But you kind of missed that detail.

"We got you flowers," Oscar says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

You smile softly, leaning up to smell the bouquet, saying weakly, "Aw... that's so lovely... You guys didn't have to."

He smiles softly. "We wanted to treat you. To show you how much we missed you this weekend." He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, before frowning and murmuring, "You're really warm. Hey, I'll be right back, m'kay?"

You're not sure how long it takes, but in a bit, Oscar comes back to place a cool cloth on your forehead, and puts the flowers, now in a vase, next to you, on your nightstand.

"They're so pretty," you murmur softly, gratefulness to you warm in your voice.

Oscar smiles. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile softly, reaching to take his hand. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" his eyebrows raise.

"All soft. I like that."

He smiles. "Just taking care of you." He leans down and kisses your cheek, saying, "Can I get you anything? A drink? Water, tea?"

"Oh... I think I'm good. But thank you," you weakly smile.

He nods. "Are you comfortable? Do you want a fan, or another blanket, or anything?"

You shrug. "I dunno... Maybe a fan would be nice. There's a big one in the closet. Jus' put it on low."

He nods and immediately heads to do that. Once he's done, he goes straight to the windows, saying, "And the blinds? Are they good the way they are, or should I-"

"Oscar, Oscar," you say softly, giving a lazy wave of your hand. "None of that matter. Not really. I don't really care. Why don't you just stop worrying and running around and taking care of me and doing everything for just a moment and just come and be with me, huh? That's what I want for you to do the most. Just come be with me. Let's just talk, hm?"

Oscar blinks. "Oh. Of course." He nods, making his way across the room. As he settles down on the bed next to you, he says simply, "Sorry."

"Don't worry. I like it. You just need to give yourself a break, too. And I want to talk with you, Osc." You slip your hand in his.

He nods, and after a few seconds murmurs, "Maybe that's just what I want, too."

"See?" you smile softly up at him.

You sit together in silence for a bit, him gently rubbing your hand in his, before you finally think to ask, "So... How... How are things with you and Lando?"

"You noticed a change, didn't you, huh?"

"For the better. Unless I'm imagining. Or you suddenly became an amazing actor in one week."

He smiles, nodding. "Lando, he... I think we worked it out. I worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"That I love you, and I might just love Lando, and that in order to love one, I've got to love the other."

You stare. "You... You and Lando?"

Oscar nods. "We talked. I think I can make this work now. Let this work. We can let this work."

You smile. "Hm. Really?" you look at him with fluttery eyes.

He shrugs, smiling softly. "I can't just care about myself. That's not what a relationship is about. Nor can I just care about you. Nor can I just care about Lando. It needs to be selfless, you know? We need to be there for each other."

You grin and murmur, "For some reason, Osc, I really wanna kiss you right now, but I'm sick. It's like you've just said what I've been dreaming for you to say for weeks now. Probably months."

He smiles, nodding. "I guess it was bound to happen. I just had some things to work through. And even though I don't even know how, and don't think he does, either, Lando helped me work through them, partially, too... Oh, and by the way, with the kiss thing?" he smiles, leaning down a bit closer, before murmuring, "I'm sure you won't get me sick. You're probably way past being contagious." And with that, he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently.

It's then that Lando walks in and says with that cheeky smile of his, "Hey, lovebirds, can I get in on this? When's it my turn?"

You pull away from Oscar and tease, "Oh, get back in the kitchen!"

"Jeez! I guess I'll just eat your soup, then, if you're going to be like that!"

"Wait! No!" you say, reaching your arms out for the tray in his arms.

He chuckles, placing it in your lap, and says, slipping on the bed next to you, on the opposite as Oscar, "Did you really think I would eat your food?"

"You might..."

He grins. "I might."

"Hey!" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

Lando lays down next to you as Oscar says, "My goodness, Y/n, you're so peppy as soon as Lando enters the room. You were acting so sick before, just a few minutes ago!"

You grin, looking him over with a shrug, "I guess I liked the way you were treating me so softly and delicately. I didn't want you to stop feeling like you had to take care of me. Now, come on. You lay down next to me, too, won't you?"

Oscar smiles and does so, murmuring, "I guess I can't say no, huh?"

You smile, contented, shutting your eyes as you feel the warmth from both of them, on each of your sides, envelop you. "I guess not."

As you eat your soup, your boys snuggle up to you, their arms wrapping around you, and the three of you talk. Mostly about Austria, and then about he upcoming British Grand Prix in less than a week now, which you're sure you'll be healed up enough for, especially since getting there doesn't require any planes or airports. Sometimes, that can be the worst part of travelling to Grand Prixs far away.

Soon, though, you finish your soup, and sink back down into the pillows, letting the tiredness seize your body once more. As you begin to drift off, the last thing you whisper is, "I love you guys..."

On each side, you feel each of their lips gently kiss your cheeks, but you don't stay awake long enough to hear how they respond to that.

Here you are, with your two McLaren boys.

Sure, there'll be rough spots. Lots of them. Something like this doesn't promise to be easy.

But sometimes, the harder path is the better one in the end.

And right now, in this simple moment, it feels perfectly worth it.

Well, maybe perfectly imperfect.

But would you really want it any other way?

This simple feeling...

[winchesterwild78]

Peppermint Kisses and Christmas Promises

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Nothing too much just some fluff and sweet Jensen, oh and some SMUT. 😂

A/N: So this is kinda a 2nd part to my story Whiskey Kisses and Broken Promises. You can read this as a stand alone or as a 2nd part. We find our reader and Jensen sharing their first Christmas together after that fateful night shared at the hotel. 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written fast and edited fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah. 

Minors DNI 18+

The night Jensen and I met and had sex was one of the best nights of my life. After returning home my husband and I decided to go our separate ways. 

We tried therapy, but nothing worked. We were both to blame. His effort to save the marriage was lackluster at best, and I couldn’t get Jensen out of my head. 

Jensen had left Danneel too, but they stayed a united front for the kids. 

Jensen tried to juggle his career, his family and me for awhile, but it started to become too much for him. Anytime he came back to me, he was exhausted and just worn out. 

We made the decision to see each other when we could. It took pressure off of him trying to juggle his time off between me and his kids. 

I didn’t want to be the reason his kids didn’t get to see him, so I took a step back. 

I had fallen in love with him and my heart ached for his presence, but his children were the priority. 

It was Christmas Eve and I had just gotten home from work. The soft glow of the Christmas lights cast shadows in the living room. It had been a few weeks since Jensen was last in my arms and I wanted him back. 

Me: Merry Christmas Eve, Jens. I hope you get a chance to video chat tonight. I have a special surprise for the next time I see you. 😘

Jensen: Hey sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you. I’ll have some time tonight after the kids go to bed to video chat. I love you, Y/N.

My heart fluttered. We’d both said it to each other, but each time still made me fill with so much love. 

I had wanted to say it first, but I was afraid it would scare him off, so I kept it inside. The night he said it to me I’ll never forget. 

We had just finished making love and we were laying in the bed talking. Jensen ever the charmer decided he was going to start tickling me. I squirmed and giggled under him and his laugh filled the room. 

His green eyes sparkled with love and mischievousness. 

“Jens, stop. I’m gonna pee.” He laughed louder, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. God I love watching you laugh.” He swept the hair in my face away, leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “I love you, Y/N.” 

I laid under him stunned. I swallowed and looked up at him, his eyes searching mine. I touched his face softly, “Jens, I love you too.” 

His lips crashed onto mine and he deepened the kiss. 

Jensen: So sweetheart, tell me what you asked Santa for? 

I smiled when I read the text. How could I really tell him what I wanted? I couldn’t tell him I wanted him by my side. I couldn’t tell him I was starting to feel that familiar loneliness again. We agreed on this. To love Jensen, to be in his life required sacrifice. 

That didn’t make it any less painful. 

Me: Oh you know the usual, peppermint bark, fuzzy socks and maybe a late night naughty video chat with the love of my life. 

Jensen looked at his phone and chuckled. 

Jensen: wow chocolate, fuzzy socks and a naughty video. That’s quite a tall order. Have you been a good girl this year? 😘

I giggled. 

Me: I don’t know. I’m really good at being naughty. Does that count?

Jensen: Oh you better believe it does. Hey, by the way, did you get the delivery I sent? The tracking is showing it delivered and left at your door. 

Me: I’ll go check. Nobody rang the bell. Hold on. 

Jensen: Okay. Let me know. 

I walked towards the front door and opened it. My heart sank. There was no package at the door, which means someone probably stole it. I let out a big sigh. 

“Well that didn’t sound like a good sigh.” My head whipped up and standing in front of me was Jensen. 

I leaped into his arms and he chuckled.

I peppered his face with kisses and he laughed. “Jensen how, when?” Was all I could get out while I was kissing him. 

He smirked against my lips, “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

“Oh, Merry Christmas, Jensen.” I took his hand and we went into the apartment. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him then reality came crashing down, “Jens, don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you’re here, but what about the kids. It’s Christmas Eve.” 

He cupped my face and smiled gently, “Honey, I worked it out. There was no way I was going to leave you alone for Christmas. Dee’s family is in town and we decided together the kids will spend Christmas Eve and Day with Dee and her family, then the kids are going to spend Christmas night with us.” 

“Oh that’s incredible..wait. Did you say us?” 

He nodded, “Yes, come home with me. Spend Christmas with me and the kids. They love you and I want to spend the holidays with my family, all together.” 

I bit my lip. My heart swelled at his request, but I was hesitant. “What does Danneel think about it? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or upset.” 

“Baby, it was her idea. She knows how much you’ve sacrificed so I can be with the kids more. Come on Y/N. What do you say? Spend Christmas with me and the kids.” 

I smiled and nodded, “If you’re sure I’d love to. That would be amazing.” 

He smiled and scooped me into his arms, “oh baby I can’t wait. God I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jensen. So much.” 

“Hey, Y/N. I believe you said something about a special surprise.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“I did, but if you want to see it then you have to close your eyes and wait.” I giggled. 

He smirked, “I can do that darlin’.”

I ran to my room, changed into the Santa lingerie I bought and walked back into the living room. 

Jensen was sitting on the arm of the couch with a grin plastered across his face. 

I took a deep breath and bit my lip, “Okay, open your eyes.” 

Jensen’s green eyes fluttered open and his jaw hit the ground. I stood in front of him nervously. 

“Well?” I asked softly. “Damn sweetheart. You look incredible. I’m so glad I got to see this in person. Come ‘ere.” 

I walked towards his open arms and he pulled me close. His thick fingers grabbing my flesh. 

His lips found mine and trailed down my neck and body. My held dipped back and his lips and teeth raked across my skin. 

I moaned, “Oh Jensen. Please baby. It’s been too long. Take me to our room.” 

Jensen led me backwards through the hallway and to the room. Our bodies tangled together. 

He tossed me on the bed and I landed with a giggle and bounce. 

Jensen growled when he saw the way my breasts bounced in the lingerie. 

He pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes. Next he removed his jeans and boxers in one pull. 

I bit my lip and my thighs clenched together looking at him. 

As Jensen climbed on the bed I moved backwards towards the pillows. He moved slowly like a predator stalking their prey and my body responded to the dark, lustful look in his eyes. 

Jensen kissed up my thighs and his fingers found my dripping wet lips. He parted them and achingly slowly he moved two fingers inside.

My body responded to his touch and my back and hips arched into him. 

“Oh fuck, Jens. You feel incredible.” 

Jensen’s fingers pumped in and out of my as his thumb brushed against my sensitive clit. He leaned forward and kissed me while working his fingers inside me. 

When he turned his fingers and hooked up I moaned loudly and called his name. 

“Yes baby, that feels good doesn’t it? You’re so wet for me.”

My moans filled the air as Jensen pushed me closer to the edge. My walls tightened around his fingers. He knew I was close. 

Jensen got close to my ear, his hot breath rushing over my earlobe and neck, sending shivers through my body. “Come on baby, cum for me. Let me feel you.” 

As Jensen kissed my pulse point on my neck my body obeyed his command and I came hard with a scream of his name. 

Jensen helped me ride out my release and when he pulled his fingers out they were dripping with my release. 

Jensen smirked as he looked down at me. My hair is a mess, sweat beaded on my forehead and my face just as flushed red as the lingerie I wore. 

“God you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.” 

I smiled, “Yes, Jensen. I’m yours forever.”

He kissed my forehead, “Are you ready baby?” 

I nodded eagerly. Jensen moved my legs apart a bit more as he pumped himself a few times. Lining his hardened length to my core he pushed his pink, glistening head through my folds and inside me. 

We both moaned as he pushed in. Inch by inch as my fingers dug into his shoulders and his fingers gripped my hips. 

As Jensen bottomed out he leaned his head into the crook of my neck. “Damn baby, you’re always so tight for me. I need a minute or I’m going to cum right now.” 

I bit my lip and looked into his emerald orbs, dark with lust and desire. “You’re so beautiful and I’m so damn lucky.” 

There it was again, another reason I have fallen so hard for him. 

The way he looks at me and reminds me of how beautiful I am never ceases to amaze me. 

Jensen gained his composure and pulled back before snapping his hips forward with a grunt. 

He lifted my legs up a little bit higher, changing the position of giving himself more leverage. 

His hips went back and again snapped forward, setting a rhythmic pace that had me teetering on the edge again. 

Our moans were pornographic and the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the small space of the bedroom. 

“God Y/N, you feel amazing. Fuck!” “Jens, I’m close again.” 

One of his hands found its way to my overly sensitive clit and he began to rub as his hips continued their movement into mine. 

“Mmm, Jens. I’m gonna…” my voice trailed off. 

“Yeah baby. Cum for me. Soak my cock.” I came hard as he said that. Like my body was obeying him. 

His pace became sloppy as my walls clenched around his cock and with a final thrust and groan he spilled his seed deep inside me, coating my insides with his release.” 

As he pulled out some of his cum fell out. He stood up and grabbed a towel to clean me and himself up. 

After we were clean he laid down beside me and pulled me into the comfort of his arms. 

“That was amazing Y/N.” I smiled, “Yeah it was. It always is with you Jensen.” 

“So, I’m thinking before we leave to head to my place, maybe I can give you your Christmas gift here.” 

“That sounds great and I’ll give you yours too.” He nodded. 

“Come ‘ere, let’s rest and we can do it over dinner. I’m taking my best girl out tonight.” We snuggled together and dozed off for a few hours. I always felt safe and protected in his arms. 

When we got up we showered and Jensen told me to put on something dressy. He had made reservations at my favorite restaurant, but they had a strict dress code. 

I fixed my hair, put on some makeup, my favorite dress Jensen bought me, and my heels. 

Walking into the living room my breath hitched looking at him. “Wow, look at you Jens. You look incredible.” 

He smirked, “You’re gorgeous, Y/N. Come on baby, do a little turn for me.” I smirked, bit my lip and turned. He whistled which made me blush. 

“Okay, I think you’re missing something.” He said as he looked at me. “What?” 

“This.” He pulled out a velvet box and opened it. Inside was a silver necklace with a large snowflake charm that was full of diamonds. I gasped, “Jensen, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” I kissed his lips and moved my hair out of the way so he could put it on me. 

I touched the necklace and thanked him again. I stood at the mirror admiring the necklace. It was beautiful, and was so thoughtful. 

“Hmmm.” I heard Jensen say from behind me. I turned and looked at him, “What?” 

“I don’t know. I think there is something still missing.” I looked at him confused, “Jens, I have everything. I’m not missing anything, my purse is over there.” 

I looked back in the mirror giving myself a once over. I was confused. 

“No, I think you’re missing this.” I turned around to see Jensen on one knee, and a smaller velvet box in his hand. 

I gasped and looked at his green eyes sparkling in the glow of the Christmas tree. His smile was wide and bright. 

Y/N, you came into my life unexpectedly. During one of the darkest times of my life. Since then I’ve fallen deeper in love with you and you remind me everyday why I did. You’ve always put me and my children before you and you were willing to spend Christmas alone so my kids could be with me. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, will you marry me?”

I stood in shock. This was happening so fast, but I knew he was the one. I took a deep breath, stepped closer and with tears in my eyes I shook my head yes. “Yes, Jensen. I’ll marry you. I love you.” 

He leaped up, pulled me in his arms and kissed me. Sliding the ring on my finger he smiled, “Perfect.” I looked at him and then at the ring, “Yes it is. Merry Christmas, Jensen.” “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

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[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 12. Asmodeus - Wrapped like a gift (18+)

     ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The ending eludes to Y/N without a dick, but can be read even if you have one (just squint your eyes at one point)

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

     ༺☆༻

The more you walk through the Abaddon castle towards Asmodeus' rooms, the more your intuition tells you that you shouldn't. There's something really unnerving about the message he's sent you:

'Y/N! Come get your Christmas gift! You'll find it on my bed ;)'

The winking emoji already had you slightly suspicious and then when all your texts inquiring about more info of the gift's nature went unanswered, the feeling of you being set up to meet your doom really set in.

By the time you reach the master bedroom door, your heart is anxiously trying to beat its way out through your ribcage.

As you're about to knock on the heavy door, a note attached to the handle by a ribbon catches your attention. The writing is in the most beautiful cursive – presumably Asmo's handwriting.

'No need to knock, just enter. I'm waiting ;)'

That emoji again. You really should turn around and call one of the other kings to come and get you out of here, but instead you take a deep breath and reach out for the handle, like the note instructed.

Slowly opening the tall door, you first see a dimly lit room full of lit candles. Stepping into the room, you see more and more of them until finally, your eyes land on the centerpiece of the whole fire hazard.

The master bed is adorned by many satin-covered pillows, which look like they're glowing in the candle flame light. And there, amidst all the glowing fabric and scattered red rose petals is Asmodeus.

He's naked, kneeling and fully restrained with his hands securely bound behind his back by ribbons. A whimper of proud obedience leaves his gagged mouth as your eyes scan his form from the top of his pitch black hair all the way down to the bow tied around the base of his very hard dick with the words 'Free use' above it in a similar fashion to Beelzebub's tattoos.

“A-asmo...?!” you exclaim in a surprise and the demon cockily smiles around the ball in his mouth while thrusting a few times into the air as if to entice you to take the opportunity to do anything with him.

You're not gonna lie, this display ignites something dangerous inside you and you yourself don't really know what might happen in the next few hours.

Only after taking a few steps towards the bed while shedding all the extra layers you're not going to need for the rest of your time here, you notice all the laid out pleasure and/or pain toys.

“Nnnghh...~!” Asmodeus impatiently whimpers with his eyes slightly rolling back, as if just your presence was enough to get him off.

You take a deep breath, partially to calm your nerves but to also stop so many ideas popping up at once.

Standing a the foot of the bed, you contemplate your first course of action with some soft humming. One part of you wants to tease him until he's unable to take it anymore and the other wants to overstimulate him.

Another impatient groan with more pathetic air thrusts interrupts your decision-making and without even thinking, you pick up the leather whip and land a few hits on one of the demon's inner thighs, “Shush... I'm still deciding.”

“Haa~!” the sudden pain makes Asmodeus moan out as his dick twitches a few times, clearly becoming desperate for any sort of stimulation. It doesn't escape you that so little was already enough for him to start producing precum, which was now lazily running down his entire length and dripping underneath him onto the satin sheet.

“I wonder... What would happen if I just left you like this... All needy for me, expecting me to pounce on you, but I don't...” you question, more as a thinking out loud since he can't really answer you much.

'Then you'd make the biggest mistake, I'll take great joy in reminding you of all the time.' a threat in a playful tone enters your mind, sounding as if Asmodeus whispered it right into your ear. Judging by the cocky smirk that's molded around the plastic ball in his mouth, it was the demon talking to you in your head. Does that also mean he can read your thoughts, then?

“Hm...” you look back down at the array of toys at your disposal. A feather duster, candle with ligther, leather whip, chain attachment for the choker he's wearing, paddle, dagger and...

Finally, your eyes land on the strap on with an attachment resembling Asmo's very own throbbing length next to a strip of black satin – presumably intended to be a blindfold. A low chuckle vibrates in your throat as a very fun way to enjoy your gift comes into your mind.

With a swift movement you snatch the cold fabric and walk around the bed to kneel behind the nicely presented demon. A shaky breath leaves his gagged lips as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, but to his disappointment, after that you're immediately getting off the bed again and walking off.

He can't see it anymore, but you're actually putting on the harness and attaching the rather disproportionate dick onto your body. On the way back to your original position the chain lead catches your eye and you take it with you.

Asmo hates to admit it to himself, but being someone else's bitch excites him as long as it's you. Still, not being able to see makes him feel on a very thrilling edge. His hearing is good, but the way you're too quiet while moving around his room is a bit unnerving to him.

The demon's head whips to the side when you get back onto the bed. With a gentle hand you guide his chin up so you can attach the chain's clasp.

By pulling on the chain, you pull Asmodeus backwards until his head is on your shoulder as you whisper right into his ear, while rubbing your borrowed dick against his ass, “Tell me, bitchboy... Has anybody else ever given you a good prostate orgasm?”

     ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Ahahah, my pretty little bitch... There's yet so much for you to experience and I am more than happy to guide you through all these new things, huhu..."

[unknownperson246]

a/n: Hiii, so I was thinking if you can make a smut of Nikki sixx. He's talking to a groupie after a show and the reader gets jealous so she went to tommy but Nikki didn't like it so he got really really jealous.you can write it if you want to, I was just thinking and then it popped up in my head.

Hiii I’ve missed writing for Crüe

Rotten Jealousy:

Words: 373

Warnings: *angst* *fluff* *cheating?*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were Nikki’s wife. You hated how Nikki still flirts with other women especially the groupies who always want to fuck him. You get really mad and jealous about seeing another woman all over your husband. As Nikki conversates with this groupie you go up to her and interrupt the conversation. You go up and grab Nikki’s back and shoulders.

“Hey baby, who is this chic?” You asked pretending like you cared.

“Just a friend,” Nikki replied.

“Just a friend Nikki?” You scoffed 

“You really must think I’m fucking stupid then,” you told Nikki off.

“Hey stay away from Nikki you little whore” You said to the groupie Nikki seemed to be attracted to and amused with.

“Fine whatever,” she said and walked off.

As the groupie walked off she flipped you off. You weren’t going to take that so you grabbed her by her hair and started to throw punches at her. She fell to the ground not being able to fight back.

“Aww can’t fight?” You asked her while you laughed at her. 

Nikki pulled you away from her and you were still mad at him for talking to her. Later on, you decide to get revenge on Nikki and make him feel the same way you did. You went to Tommy Lee. You started to get flirty with him in front of Nikki. You even hugged him and kissed his cheek. Soon you almost kissed his lips and you were going to pretend to make out with Tommy. 

“Hey what the fuck are you doing Y/N,” Nikki asked.

He was pissed and that was your goal. 

“Oh yeah also I was going to sleep with him later” You chuckled and pretended that it was nothing but it hurt you to even do any of this.  

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t pretend.

“Fuck you Nikki what is wrong with you?!” You asked. 

“I should be the one asking you that!” Nikki argued.

“You know I don’t like it when you talk to those sluts. You have a wife Nikki and that’s me!” You were almost about to cry.

“I’m sorry I’ll be more careful next time” Nikki reached out to you for a hug and to comfort you. 

[amazinglystay]

Shattered Reflections

Hyunjin x Y/N

·:¨⛦𓆩♡𓆪⛦¨:·

Summary:

When Y/N discovers suspicious texts on Hyunjin’s phone, their relationship is thrown into turmoil as love, trust, and betrayal collide. Faced with heartbreak and doubt, Y/N walks away, leaving Hyunjin to grapple with his mistakes and a desperate promise to wait for her.

T/W:Angst-heavy themes-Emotional arguments and tension between characters-Mentions of potential betrayal (emotional cheating implied)-Emotional distress and trust issues-Themes of heartbreak and self-doubt

·:¨⛦𓆩♡𓆪⛦¨:·

The rain poured relentlessly outside, tapping against the windows like a frantic heartbeat. Y/N stood in the middle of the dimly lit living room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Across from her, Hyunjin leaned against the doorframe, his sharp features shadowed by the soft glow of the overhead light.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice was low, almost defeated, but there was an edge to it one that sent a chill down her spine.

“I want you to be honest with me,” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but resolute. “Was it worth it? Was she worth it?”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes narrowing. “Don’t do that. Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“Oh, so I’m twisting things now?” Y/N let out a bitter laugh, her hands falling to her sides. “Hyunjin, I saw the texts. You can’t tell me they didn’t mean anything!”

“They didn’t! She’s just a friend, Y/N. I’ve told you that a hundred times.” His voice rose slightly, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Y/N shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Friends don’t send those kinds of messages, Hyunjin. Friends don’t talk about ‘missing each other’s presence’ or how ‘they can’t wait to see each other again.’”

Hyunjin sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. His usual composed demeanor was cracking, revealing the storm raging beneath. “You don’t trust me. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” Y/N snapped, her voice breaking. “I trusted you. I gave you everything, Hyunjin. And now, I don’t even recognize the person standing in front of me.”

Hyunjin flinched at her words, his expression softening for a moment before hardening again. “You think I don’t feel the same way? Do you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this, to know I’ve hurt you?”

“Then why?” Y/N’s voice cracked, a single tear escaping down her cheek. “Why did you let it get to this point? Why didn’t you just—”

“I don’t know, okay?” Hyunjin interrupted, his voice raw. “I don’t know why I said the things I did to her. Maybe I was lonely, maybe I was stupid. But I swear to you, it didn’t mean anything. You’re the one I love, Y/N.”

Y/N stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to process his words. The sincerity in his eyes tugged at her heart, but the pain was too fresh, too sharp.

“Love isn’t supposed to feel like this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Hyunjin took a step toward her, his hand reaching out hesitantly. “Y/N…”

She took a step back, shaking her head. “I can’t, Hyunjin. I can’t keep doing this. I need time to think. To figure out if I can ever trust you again.”

His hand fell to his side, and the distance between them felt insurmountable. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of the rain pounding against the glass.

“I’ll wait for you,” Hyunjin said finally, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. “No matter how long it takes. I’ll wait.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and walked to the door, her steps slow and heavy.

As the door closed behind her, Hyunjin stood alone in the dim room, the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him like the storm outside. And as the rain continued to fall, he whispered into the empty air, “I’m sorry.”

·:¨⛦𓆩♡𓆪⛦¨:·

A/n: ⚠️this is ment to be no hate towards hyunjin or anything just an fanfic i wrote a few days ago!⚠️ but that’s it for today 🤗 hope ur doing well and we’ll make sure to eat drink and sleep loads ok?

More like this? Click here

[atlasthegreatest]

Breaking the Ice / Dick Grayson x Sibling!Gender Neutral Reader

Which, Dick Grayson attempts to bond with his younger adopted sibling, Y/n.

Word count: 2135

Warnings: None.

A/n: This was requested by an anon. The gender wasn't specified, so, the gender is neutral. Hope you like it!

The Wayne Manor was unusually quiet for a Friday evening. The faint hum of Alfred’s vacuum cleaner reverberated faintly from the east wing, while the ticking of the grandfather clock in the study provided a steady rhythm. Dick Grayson sat cross-legged on the plush carpet in the living room, fiddling with the pieces of a half-completed puzzle. It was a rare night off for everyone. No patrols, no missions. Just family time—or whatever passed for family time in this house.

The door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor. Dick glanced up, offering a lopsided grin when he saw his younger adopted sibling, Y/n.

“Hey, Y/n,” Dick greeted warmly. “Wanna help me out? I’m starting to think this puzzle’s missing pieces.”

Y/n, with their ever-present hoodie, pulled low over their eyes, shrugged. “No thanks,” they muttered, their voice barely above a whisper. Without breaking stride, they made a beeline for the staircase.

Dick sighed, watching them retreat. It wasn’t the first time Y/n had brushed him off, and he doubted it would be the last. They weren’t close—not like siblings should be. And while Dick could accept that relationships took time, Y/n’s wall of indifference was as impenetrable as the Batcave’s security system.

Jason’s voice broke the silence, startling Dick. “You’re wasting your time, Boy Wonder.”

Dick turned to see his younger brother leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Y/n doesn’t exactly do the ‘bonding’ thing. You should know that by now.���

“I know,” Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But they’re family, Jay. I just… I want them to feel like they belong here.”

Jason snorted, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to the couch. “They belong just fine. They talk to me, don’t they? And Cass. That’s two people. More than some of us got when we first showed up.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but they don’t talk to me. Or Bruce. Or Damian. Heck, even Alfred barely gets more than a grunt out of them these days.”

Jason shrugged. “Maybe that’s just how they are. Not everyone’s a people person, Grayson.”

“Or maybe,” Dick countered, “they just don’t feel like they can trust us yet.”

Before Jason could respond, the soft pattern of footsteps drew their attention. Cassandra entered the room, her silent presence more comforting than any words could be. She walked over to Y/n, who had reappeared at the base of the stairs and gave them a small wave.

Y/n’s posture relaxed almost imperceptibly, and they managed a faint smile. “Hey, Cass.”

Dick watched the exchange with a pang of envy. Cassandra didn’t need words to connect with people; her understanding went deeper than that. She placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and led them toward the couch, where Jason promptly scooted over to make room.

“Great,” Dick said with mock indignation. “Now everyone’s on the couch except me.”

Y/n shot him a fleeting glance before turning back to Cassandra. “You didn’t have to make room for him,” they said dryly.

Jason chuckled. “Told you. They’ve got a sense of humor—just not for you.”

Dick sighed but couldn’t suppress a small grin. “Thanks, Jay. Really helpful.”

———————-

For a while, they sat in companionable silence. Cassandra pulled out a sketchbook and began doodling, while Jason and Y/n exchanged snarky commentary on a cheesy action movie playing on the TV.

Dick watched them from his spot on the floor, feeling like an outsider in his own family. But as the night wore on, he noticed small cracks in Y/n’s icy exterior. The way they leaned ever so slightly toward Cassandra. The way they let Jason tease them without snapping.

Maybe Jason was right. Maybe Y/n didn’t need to bond with everyone in the house to feel like they belonged. But Dick wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

The puzzle piece in his hand snapped into place, and a small sense of accomplishment warmed his chest. Maybe he’d never be the older brother Y/n wanted—but he could still try to be the older brother they needed.

“Hey, Y/n,” he said, holding up the puzzle box. “I bet Jason twenty bucks I could finish this before the movie ends. Wanna help me prove him wrong?”

Y/n hesitated, their eyes flickering to Cassandra for a moment before landing on the puzzle. “Fine,” they said, sliding off the couch and plopping onto the floor beside him. “But if you lose, I’m keeping the twenty.”

Dick laughed, handing them a piece. “Deal.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Y/n settled cross-legged on the floor next to Dick, their hoodie still shadowing their face. They didn’t look at him as they started sorting through the pile of puzzle pieces, but it didn’t matter. Dick knew better than to push too hard.

“Okay,” he said, shifting the puzzle box to face Y/n. “This is where we’re at. Edge pieces are mostly done. It’s this middle section that’s killing me.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, picking up a piece and studying it with laser focus. “You separated the pieces by color, right?”

“Uh…” Dick hesitated, scratching his head. “I was getting to that.”

Y/n huffed, a sound that could almost be mistaken for a laugh if Dick didn’t know better. “No wonder you’re stuck.” They pulled the box closer, dividing the pile into smaller groups with quick, practiced movements.

Jason, still lounging on the couch, smirked at the interaction. “Look at that. You’re actually getting them to help. Miracles do happen.”

Y/n didn’t look up. “You’re just scared we’ll finish before the movie ends, and you’ll have to cough up that twenty.”

Jason blinked, caught off guard by the comeback. Then he let out a bark of laughter. “Alright, Y/n. If you win, I’ll throw in another ten just for the sass.”

Cassandra glanced up from her sketchbook, a small, approving smile curving her lips. She didn’t say anything—she rarely did—but her gaze lingered on Dick for a moment, as if to say, Keep going.

Dick took the cue. “Alright, team,” he said, tapping the puzzle. “Let’s do this.”

For a while, they worked in relative silence. Dick occasionally sneaked glances at Y/n, marveling at how quickly they picked out matching pieces. Their focus was intense, almost like watching Bruce when he was in detective mode.

“You’re really good at this,” Dick said casually, not wanting to break the rhythm.

Y/n shrugged. “Used to do puzzles with my mom. She loved this kind of stuff.”

The mention of Y/n’s mother hung in the air like a fragile thread. It wasn’t something they talked about much—or at all. Dick knew better than to pry, but he felt a pang of sadness for the life Y/n had lost before coming to the Manor.

“She must’ve been awesome,” Dick said gently.

Y/n didn’t respond right away, but their hands never stopped moving. “She was.”

The quiet acknowledgment was enough for Dick. He could feel the walls around Y/n shifting, even if only slightly.

By the time the movie credits started rolling, the puzzle was nearly complete. Jason groaned, tossing a pillow in Dick’s direction. “Fine. You win. But I’m blaming Y/n for this betrayal.”

Y/n smirked, holding up the final piece. “I think I’ll take that extra ten now.”

Jason rolled his eyes, digging into his pocket for cash. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t spend it all in one place, kid.”

Y/n pocketed the money with a small but genuine grin—one that caught Dick off guard. It wasn’t much, but it was a rare glimpse of the person behind the hoodie.

“Good teamwork,” Dick said, offering a fist bump.

Y/n hesitated, then bumped their fist against his. “You’re still not getting my twenty,” they said, but their tone was lighter, almost teasing.

Cassandra’s quiet laugh broke the moment, and even Jason cracked a smile.

Dick leaned back, feeling a sense of accomplishment that had nothing to do with finishing the puzzle. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t fix everything overnight, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like they were moving in the right direction.

As Y/n stood and started heading toward the stairs, Dick called after them. “Hey, Y/n?”

They paused, glancing back over their shoulder.

“You’re welcome to join us anytime. For puzzles, movies… whatever.”

Y/n didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of something in their eyes—something that looked a lot like hope.

As they disappeared upstairs, Jason flopped back onto the couch with a grin. “You’re like a puppy, you know that? Just wagging your tail until someone pets you.”

Dick chuckled. “Maybe. But you saw that smile, right? Totally worth it.”

Cassandra nodded, her expression soft. “They’ll come around,” she said quietly.

Dick smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah,” he said. “They will.”

Bonus Chapter:

The Manor was steeped in darkness, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the grand windows. The clock struck midnight, and the household was mostly quiet. Jason had already retreated to his room with a pile of books he swore he wasn’t reading, and Cassandra had disappeared somewhere in her usual silent way. Bruce and Damian were still out on patrol, leaving the Manor feeling both vast and strangely empty.

Dick was in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry for a late-night snack, when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Y/n standing in the doorway, their hoodie pulled up as usual, though the drawstrings were loosened enough to reveal their face.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Dick asked, pulling out a box of cereal.

Y/n shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that.”

“Join the club,” Dick said, pouring a bowl. “Want some?”

Y/n hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

Dick grabbed another bowl, sliding it across the counter toward them. Y/n moved to the fridge, retrieving the milk without a word. It was a simple routine, but in the quiet of the night, it felt oddly significant.

They sat at the counter in silence, the sound of spoons clinking against ceramic bowls filling the space. Dick stole a glance at Y/n, who seemed lost in thought, their eyes fixed on their cereal.

“You okay?” Dick asked gently.

Y/n shrugged again, a noncommittal gesture that Dick had come to recognize as their default. But then they surprised him. “I don’t… hate it here,” they said quietly, almost as if the words were being dragged out of them.

Dick blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… good to know,” he said, trying not to sound too eager.

Y/n poked at their cereal, avoiding his gaze. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. The family stuff. It’s weird.”

Dick set his spoon down, giving them his full attention. “It’s weird for all of us,” he admitted. “I mean, look at this place. We’re not exactly the Brady Bunch.”

Y/n snorted, a small, genuine sound that made Dick smile.

“But,” he continued, “you don’t have to figure it out all at once. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re all here, whenever you’re ready.”

Y/n didn’t respond right away, but their posture seemed to relax a little. “Jason says you’re too nice for your own good,” they said after a moment.

Dick laughed. “That sounds about right. He’s probably told you all kinds of embarrassing stories about me, huh?”

“Some,” Y/n said, a faint smirk tugging at their lips.

“Well, remind me to return the favor,” Dick said with a grin. “I’ve got plenty of dirt on him too.”

Y/n’s smirk grew into something closer to a smile, and for the first time, Dick felt like he was seeing them—not the guarded, distant version they showed to everyone else, but the person underneath.

They finished their cereal in companionable silence, and as Y/n rinsed their bowl in the sink, they paused. “Thanks,” they said softly, their back still turned.

Dick tilted his head. “For what?”

Y/n shrugged, their voice barely above a whisper. “For trying.”

Dick’s chest tightened, warmth spreading through him. He wanted to say something profound, something to let them know how much that simple acknowledgment meant to him, but all he managed was a soft, “Anytime.”

As Y/n turned to leave, they hesitated in the doorway. “Goodnight, Dick.”

It was the first time they’d said his name, and it caught him so off guard that he almost didn’t respond. “Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice full of quiet affection.

As the door swung shut behind them, Dick leaned back in his chair, a small, contented smile on his face. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a dramatic breakthrough, but in the quiet of the Manor’s kitchen, it felt like the start of something real.

[wonlvures]

— A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE — PARK JONGSEONG

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, romance

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and Jay celebrate christmas together!

𝐀.𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry i haven’t been posting ! i’ve been very lazy 😞

It was Christmas Eve in Seoul, and the city was alive with holiday cheer. The streets shimmered with dazzling lights, and snowflakes gently fell from the sky, blanketing the sidewalks in soft white. The scent of roasted chestnuts and fresh pine mixed in the air, and everything seemed to glow under the light of the festive decorations. People bustled around, shopping for last-minute gifts and sipping hot drinks from street vendors.

Inside a cozy little cafe on a quiet corner of the city, Y/N sat by the window, a warm latte cradled between her hands. The holiday season always filled her with a sense of wonder, and tonight, something felt even more special. Perhaps it was the quiet beauty of the snow, or perhaps it was the anticipation of seeing someone very important to her—someone who had become much more than just a friend over the past few months.

Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her out of her thoughts. She looked down to see a message from Jay, the charming and kind-hearted lead vocalist of ENHYPEN.

"I’m outside! Can you come out?"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she quickly stood up, her eyes lighting up. She’d been looking forward to this all week. Tonight was a chance to spend some quiet time with him—just the two of them, away from the chaos of the world. Grabbing her coat, she slipped into the cool winter air and stepped out of the cafe.

There, standing under a streetlamp dusted with snow, was Jay. He was dressed warmly in a thick, black jacket and a soft, checkered scarf, his hands tucked into his pockets. His breath formed small clouds in the chilly air, and as soon as he spotted her, his face broke into that signature grin that always made her heart race.

"Hey, you made it!" he said, taking a step toward her. "Sorry if I kept you waiting."

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. "No, I just got here. It’s so beautiful tonight, don’t you think?"

Jay looked around at the snow-covered streets, the festive lights strung across the buildings. He chuckled. "Yeah, it’s like a Christmas movie. I’m glad we’re spending it together."

There was a softness in his voice that made Y/N's heart flutter, but she quickly shook it off, attributing it to the magic of the season. "I’m really glad, too. So, what’s the plan?"

Jay grinned mischievously. "I was thinking we could walk around, look at the decorations, and maybe grab some hot cocoa or something. Just enjoy the night."

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds perfect."

The two of them wandered through the streets, walking side by side as the city’s Christmas lights sparkled around them. Every now and then, Jay would playfully flick snow at Y/N, causing her to laugh and retaliate with a small snowball of her own. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble.

After a while, they found themselves in a nearby park, where the trees were decked out in thousands of twinkling lights. The peaceful quiet of the place, with the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet, made it feel like they had stepped into a winter wonderland. The only sound was the gentle rustle of the branches in the wind and the occasional giggle between them.

They stopped in front of a large Christmas tree in the center of the park, its lights glowing brightly. Jay took a deep breath, looking at the tree in silence before turning to face Y/N. His expression had softened, and his usual playful energy seemed to have mellowed.

"You know," Jay began, his voice quieter now, "I’ve been thinking about this moment for a while."

Y/N tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"

He took another deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts, then looked into her eyes with a seriousness that surprised her. "I just… I’ve been so busy with everything lately, with ENHYPEN and all the craziness that comes with it. But every time I see you, I feel like I can finally breathe. You make everything feel so much better. And I realized tonight that it’s not just about having fun or spending time together. It’s something more."

Y/N’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, but the air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings. She looked down at their feet for a moment, trying to steady herself.

Jay reached out, gently lifting her chin so that their eyes met once more. "Y/N, I think... I think I’m falling for you."

The words hung in the air, and Y/N’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Was she hearing this right? Her mind raced as she looked up at him, trying to make sense of what he had just said.

Jay looked at her with those warm, dark eyes, waiting for her response. "I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how… or if you felt the same way."

Y/N felt a wave of emotions wash over her—surprise, joy, and a little nervousness. She’d always known there was something special between them, but to hear Jay say it out loud made everything feel real.

"I… I think I feel the same," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "I’ve always cared about you, Jay. More than I realized."

A soft smile spread across his face, and he gently pulled her into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around her as if he never wanted to let go. Y/N melted into the embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. The world seemed to fade into the background, and for that moment, it was just the two of them, surrounded by the magic of Christmas.

When they pulled away, Jay’s face was flushed, but his smile was brighter than ever. "So, we’re each other’s Christmas miracle then?"

Y/N laughed softly, her heart full. "I think so."

Jay’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her face. "I’m really glad we’re here, Y/N. This is… this is everything I’ve wanted."

Before she could respond, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss. The moment felt like a dream—a perfect, serene memory that she would cherish forever.

As they stood there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the snow continued to fall around them, adding to the magic of the night. The twinkling lights on the Christmas tree reflected in Jay’s eyes, and Y/N felt as though she had stepped into her own little holiday fairy tale. The love she’d always hoped for had found her, and it was here, under the snowy sky, with the person who made her heart feel like home.

As they walked back through the park, hand in hand, the city lights guiding their way, Y/N knew that this Christmas would be the start of something beautiful. Something lasting. And no matter what happened in the future, she would always remember this night—the night she and Jay found each other, wrapped in the warmth of the season and the magic of a Christmas miracle.

[cherthegoddess]

Myth - Meeting Bucky Barnes

Summary: After a grueling mission, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers encounter Y/n, a mysterious and skilled operative brought in to clean up the aftermath. Bucky is immediately struck by her presence, while Y/n handles the situation with confidence and ease. Their brief interaction leaves Bucky intrigued and sets the stage for something more.

Warnings: Awkward Bucky And as always this was written with a black reader in mind but anyone can read it!

Main Masterlist l Series Masterlist

Part 1

Word Count: 1.1K

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader

Meeting Bucky Barnes

There was one thing for sure; Bucky was ready to lay down. The mission against some Hydra operatives exhausted him immensely, especially with all of the destruction that they caused the nearing city. He checked on one more civilian before Steve tapped him on his shoulder. “Good job today, Buck.” Bucky only grumbles in response to his tiredness taking over his body. Steve laughed at his drained friend before wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “I just hate that we keep leaving these cities like this. They already had to deal with the torment of Hydra and now this.” Bucky waves an arm at the scene as they walk towards the quadjet that just landed for them. A few men step out and begin collecting some of the tech that Hydra had to examine it. “Fury has been hiring an outside source to clean up and apparently she’s really good.” Bucky looks at Steve confused. “She? There’s no way one person is cleaning this all up.” Steve shrugs his shoulders. As if on cue a beautiful woman, one of which Bucky has never seen before, steps out. He stops in his place completely to stare at her. 

Y/n hated when Fury, really it was Maria, called her to clean up. They seemed to always have a huge load of chaos waiting for her. She much preferred tidying up whatever supernatural being that was roughing up a town. What she hated even more was the seemingly lack of care these so-called Avengers had in the towns that they fought in. Would it be that hard to have a contained fight in some building where no one could get hurt? Y/n stepped out of the quadjet stopping to talk to one her favorite field agents who took care of collecting any artifacts. “Hey, Stace! It’s good to see you. What don’t you want me to make disappear today?” Stacy raised her head. “Well, if it isn’t a Myth! If you could just leave the weapons for today…” Y/n eyes trail to the person behind Stacy, staring at her so blatantly. When she catches his eye, he quickly looks down. She knows who he is quickly by the gleam of his metal arm. She focuses back into her conversation with Stacy smiling, when she finishes. “Thank you for your help. One more thing, what’s the deal with Barnes over there?” Stacy looks back slightly to see where Y/n is nodding her head to before turning back to her. She raises her eyebrows in question, but never actually asking. “Well, he’s a bit grumpy and mostly hangs out with Captain Rogers when he’s not with him he’s alone or with Agent Romanoff. But he’s definitely a gentleman, but I think that’s all those boys from the 40’s. Oh and he’s single. I’ve heard rumors that Agent Romanoff has been trying to set him up for a while, but he rejects it everytime.” Y/n nods taking in the newfound information. “If you want, you might want to ask Cap and Sergeant Barnes for any other things that they would like you to clean up.” Stacy says with a wink. “Thanks! I’ll go do that.” Y/n says with a light smile and appreciation for the woman in front of her. Stacy waves goodbye and watches as Y/n begins making her way to where Bucky and Steve are with a smirk. 

“Oh god, Stevie she’s walking over here.” His gruff voice comments. Bucky’s eyes are filled with panic as the woman stalks over to their position. Steve grins at his friends' panicked state. He hadn’t seen him like this since… well never. Even in the 40’s, he had girls flocking and stuttering over him. Bucky could instantly feel her confident aura, without even speaking to her. “Hello, Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers. I was told by Stacy to ask you guys if there’s anything else you would like me to clean up other than the obvious.” She gestures to the destroyed buildings. Bucky just stares at her, not a word exiting his mouth. Steve looks between the two with obvious tension. Steve clears his throat. “I think that’s it honestly! I apologize to you and your team for all of this.” Y/n laughs slightly, Bucky now wishing he could hear more of the sound. “No, team, just me.” She tells them. They both look confused. “Just you?” Two words from James Buchanan Barnes' lips leave Y/n weak in the knees. She almost forgets to respond. “Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. That may clear up some confusion. I’m Y/f/n, otherwise known as The Myth.” The boy's eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the one with the Cleaning Manipulation. I’m surprised we haven’t met you before.” Steve says with a hint of shock. “I usually try to leave as soon as possible. I usually leave exhausted after I finish up with SHIELD clean ups.” Y/n looks around and then suddenly the buildings start rebuilding themselves as well as the other areas that were filled with disarray. Bucky watches in shock as all of the chaos that they left goes away within minutes, leaving everything as if nothing had ever happened. He looks over to Steve who has the same look on his face as well, but he notices something else as well, Steve being completely cleared from the bruises and gashes that were on his face. Each of the cuts on Steve’s suit being magically stitched up follows. Bucky looks over himself as well, pushing his stomach where his previous bruised ribs were, when there is no pain, he looks up at Y/n with widened eyes. “You can heal people too?” Y/n shrugs. “My abilities qualify as being hurt as a mess, but there’s definitely limits. If you want, I’d be happy to talk about my abilities and things with you, Sergeant.” A blush sweeps over Bucky’s cheeks. Steve grins. “He’d love to.” Y/n continues to look at Bucky for a response to make sure he is comfortable. Steve nudges him when he still doesn’t speak. “Yeah, that sounds good.” His voice still gruff.. Y/n smoothly pulls out a pen from her left breast pocket and grabs Bucky’s non-metal hand, writing her number down. “You just call me when you’re ready to set up that conversation and I’ll be here, Serg.” She says with a slight smirk. Bucky’s mouth is slightly ajar. “It was nice to meet you both. Y/n turns around and starts walking towards the quadjet. “Bucky, call me Bucky.” He finally gets out and Y/n turns back around. “It was wonderful to meet you, Bucky, be sure to call me.” She winks and makes her way back to the quadjet. When she’s gone, Steve pats his best friend's shoulder. “She’s amazing.” Bucky finally says. “You’re never going to wash that hand are you?” Steve says jokingly. Bucky shakes his head. “Never.”

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[1byhwng]

( drabble ) “so sweet” -  최연준 (pt.1)

pairings - classmate!yeonjun x college!fem reader

warnings - MDNI (pt.2 will contain smut)

a/n — I was gonna post this yesterday but it wasn’t finished so here’s your late present 😭. sorry for it being messy i was trying to get it done.

it was no secret that yeonjun liked you, almost everyone in school knew. The only person that didn’t know was you.

You would receive candy’s and drinks in your locker along with a note almost everyday, and every note ended with ‘ — C.YJ’ .

Considering he was also one of the most outgoing people in the school, you already ruled him out to be the secret admirer. There were plenty of people with those initials.

The night before christmas yeonjun took the time to write a decorated letter for you.

”Hi, y/n. I know we haven’t really talked much or really at all but i think you’re very pretty —“ he stops scratching out the writing on the paper before tossing it aside somewhere “that’s not it—“ he sighs before grabbing another paper and starting again.

“Hi, y/n. I’ve liked you for a while. i like everything about you. you’re really kind and sweet it’s crazy more guys don’t find you attractive. I didn’t want to say my feelings because i was scared. i can’t say them in front of you or i’ll probably become a stuttering mess. so this is my way of saying i like you. y/n please like me back.” biting his lip he finally decides to place it into the envelope, hoping you would accept it.

——————

The next day, you wake up from the sound of your alarm blasting into your ear. Sitting up, you yawn before getting out of bed and heading downstairs since you didn’t have to get ready for your class until 11:00 which was 4 hours away.

You see your mom standing at the counter cutting up something, turning when she here’s your footsteps. As soon as she sees you her face lights up and she practically runs over to you “so?” she grins brightly at you. “so..what?” you ask, making your way to the fridge with you mom following behind. “oh c’mon, “ she groans “did you tell him yet?” before you could answer she cuts you off “ and don’t you even ‘tell who?’ me, did you tell yeonjun that you like him yet?” she probed.

“mom—i didn’t tell him because—I..he wouldn’t like me back.” you stammer, trying to reason with her only to receive a groan from her.

“i bet he likes you back.” she shrugs going back to cooking. “i’m not in high school anymore mom.” you counter “he has like a million girls on him every day so why would he choose me.”

Your mom sighs, turning to look at you “just ask him y/n,” she smiles “the worst that could happen is he says no—but i doubt that will happen.” she reassures you.

You groan in defeat, “fine.” you get up before heading up to your room to get ready.

——————

As you’re doing your work, you see yeonjun walk into class. Late. As usual but that wasn’t on your mind. Today was the day you tell him that you like him. Today.

You feel butterflies fill your stomach as you think of all the outcomes that could possibly happen. What if he laughs at you and mock your confession in front of everyone. what if he already has a girlfriend. what if he says yes only to use you and leave. what if—

“hey y/n? can i sit here?” you here a voice above you. You look up and see yeonjun looking down at you. god was he tall. “y-yeah of course, no problem ?” you stutter moving your bag to the floor.

why did you feel like a high schooler with her first crush. Technically he is you first crush.

Once he’s seated, you can feel him looking at you as you work—try to work. “can i tell you something?” he speaks up holding a letter in his hand. You look over to him confused, not really sure what he would say.

“i’ve liked you for a while, y/n. So, i wanted to give you this as my christmas present.” he smiles, handing you the letter. After you read it you look at him shocked “yeonjun…I can’t believe t-“

“miss l/n. save your conversation until after the lecture.” your teacher interrupts, causing some to turn and look at the two of you. You mouth ‘i like you too’ to him before paying more attention to the school work but the fact that he liked you wouldn’t leave your head. maybe this was the best day of your life.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Nine)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, talking about religion

Part Nine: The Funeral of Jason Todd

It’s been five days since Jason was killed by the Joker. Kori, Gar and Rachel drove up from San Francisco four days ago. Bruce got back to Gotham three days ago. Roy and Thea would get to Wayne manor later today. You sat in Jason’s bed wearing his Silversun Pickups t-shirt. His bracelets you’d taken off his corpse were on the nightstand beside you. You looked to them and all the good memories they held. You then looked down to the air mattress Dick had slept on a week ago and all the complicated memories it held. You didn’t want to look at it anymore, it felt disrespectful and bothersome. You drained all the air from it and began folding it up when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick.

“Breathing in the five year old air?” He says attempting to be normal in such an abnormal situation. You don’t say anything in return. “I’ll finish doing that, Bruce has a question for you.”

“Fine,” you say as you get up and walk past him. You head down the stairs and find Bruce sitting in the living room. You sit in an armchair across from him.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Bruce,” you say with a sigh.

“I just had a quick question for you,” he says.

“Okay…let’s hear it,” you say.

“I was wondering your opinion on if we should do open or closed casket?” He says. His question takes you aback slightly. “I know the funeral home did the best they could, I’m just not sure everyone seeing him like that is the best idea,” he says.

“Closed casket, you, me and Dick can say goodbye and he’d want Roy, Alfred and Gar to be able to as well. But he wouldn’t want anyone else to see him, not like that,” you say.

“Right, thank you” Bruce says.

“No problem,” you say as you get up from the couch. You are about to go back upstairs when the doorbell rings. You look through the window to see Thea and Roy. You open the door and are immediately greeted by Thea hugging you.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hi,” you say. You always found comfort in Thea and your friendship. You grew up in Central City. After Oliver disappeared Thea began hanging out with the wrong crowd and got kicked out of her private school and then Star High School, so she went to Central High. You became close and you both ended up going to the same college in Star City. You’d helped Thea through losing her brother, her brother coming back, and finding out Malcom Merlin was her father. You guys had been through a lot and so you were glad she was here.

Roy had decided he wanted to be alone to say goodbye to Jason. Thea and you sat in Jason’s room on the bed. It reminded you of sleepovers you two had in high school and how you’d run around the Queen mansion having fashion shows and blasting club music.

“Can I get your opinion on something?” You ask her.

“Course,” she says.

“I took Jason’s bracelets when I found him, I didn’t want them to get locked up in evidence. I’m gonna put them back on him but I was wondering if I should put these too?” You say as you grab a stack of Polaroids. Thea begins looking through them. One is of you, Jason, Roy and Thea. Another is you, Gar, Jason, and Rachel from one of the many times you guys made pancakes. Another is you and Jason at a concert you went to. The last was one Jason took of you, it’s a portrait from your waist up of you in a lacy bright pink bra with a soft genuine smile; in it you’re wearing your pink diamond necklace.

“You totally don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but we just always used to talk about boys and stuff…” Thea begins to say.

“Oh you’re fine, it’s you Thea you could ask me anything,” you say.

“Jason took this photo?” She asks as she holds up the polaroid of you in your bra. You nod yes. “Did you two ever?”

“No,” you say softly. “We made out all the time, we feel, felt, safe with each other and love each other but you know I’ve always been a bit scared of physical intimacy because of how I’ve been treated before,” you say. “He never pressured me, he was never weird or creepy about my body…he was perfect,” you say as you start crying. Thea pulls you into a hug.

“I think he’d want the Polaroids with him,” she says. Thea left and you got ready for the funeral. You wore a long sleeve black dress that went to just above your knee, you of course wore your pink diamond necklace and then simple black heels. You were putting on perfume when you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick dressed in a black suit.

“Bruce wanted me to tell you me, him, Alfred, Gar and Roy have said goodbye so you can head down when you’re ready and then we’ll close the casket,” he says.

“Okay, thank you” you say trying to keep it together. You follow Dick down the stairs. He points to the parlor where Jason is. You go inside and close the door behind you.

Sunlight pours in from the windows. Of course the one day Gotham has nice weather was the day you were putting the love of your life in the ground. You take a deep breath and then walk over to the casket. Jason wore a black suit with a white flower tucked into it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from looking at the “J” Joker had carved into the side of his face. A few tears escaped your eyes as you remembered the pain he endured during his final moments. You tucked the Polaroids into his jacket pocket. You held the bracelets in your hand as you realized putting them on him would mean you’d have to touch his corpse. You were disgusted at the idea of his cold skin. You debated for a moment asking Roy or Dick to do it for you but you reminded yourself it was still Jason and he would want you to do it. Carefully you pulled each bracelet onto his wrist. You didn’t want to kiss him on the lips; you wanted to remember your last kiss as warm and loving. Instead you pushed back his curls and kissed his forehead. As you were moving away from his face you once again noticed the “J”. You kissed the “J” carving lightly as one final act of love and comfort.

“I’ll see you again one day Jason, remember to save me a seat next to you in heaven. I will always love you,” you say softly to him. You think about saying goodbye but can’t bear to. Instead you smile gently at him. You pray the Hail Mary over him; knowing neither you or Jason agree with everything the Catholic Church has to say but you both were raised Catholic.

During the funeral you sit between Rachel and Thea; Gar was beside Rachel and Roy beside Thea. Donna turned up last minute and sat with Dick and Kori. You hadn’t figured out if she showed up for Dick, out of guilt for what happened at the tower, or to be there for you. Bruce sat with Alfred of course. Dawn and Hank were unsurprisingly no where to be found. You never understood why Hank disliked Jason so much; in your eyes they were very similar. Jason’s parents and Uncle Ray were all dead. You guys were his family. Alfred did the eulogy, apparently during Jason’s days of being Robin in Gotham he once asked Alfred to do it if he ever died. After mass you all headed back to Wayne manor where he’d be buried. One by one each person threw a rose into his grave; you were the last to throw a rose in.

Everyone sat in the parlor talking and sharing stories but you were too zoned out to actually listen to anything being said. You slipped away and headed outside to the grave.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” you said to his headstone. You sat down beside his grave. “I’ll never say this to anyone else but you going after Joker alone was really fucking stupid Jason. It was a dumb move…don’t worry if anyone else ever says that I’ll slap them. You should’ve taken me with you though…then at least maybe I could be buried beside you.” You lay down in the grass next to his grave. “Maybe in another life you never boosted that fucking car and we met some other way and fell in love and got married and got to gaslight our children into thinking Santa is real,” you say as you laugh slightly. Your playful laughing quickly turns into tears. You cry and cry. Then crying turns into sobbing and then suddenly the ground beneath you is literally wet with tears. You cry so hard you fall asleep there in the grass next to Jason’s grave.

Hey, sorry this chapter was so sad and dramatic but it is angst soooo yeah. I hope you enjoyed reading it and if you did remember to like. I appreciate any and all positive feedback, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I have a lot of ideas to develop the red hood plot (I disliked titans plot line with scarecrow so I’m basically gonna lean more into under the red hood and then obviously my imagination). I also plan on writing backstory on how the reader met Dick and Jason and her time as a titan so if you’d be interested in that please follow me. If you haven’t read the other parts and want to remember to check out my Masterlist. Thank you for reading this series it’s super fun to write!

Here’s a link to my Masterlist btw if you wanted to check it out.

Masterlist

[duexnuts]

mark my words | megumi x reader ⋆˙⟡

probably ooc, not proof read

ch 2: day one | masterlist! | next ch.

that night, you had quite literally, crashed out. right after family dinner, you grabbed a tub of ice cream (the family size ones, not the pints) and sat on your bed, crying. it’s not exactly easy to get over getting rejected from a company right after they see you. 

you had woken up today to your phone ringing with a call from jujutsu tech. on the other end was megumi fushiguro with a job offer. even though you were covered in sticky melted ice cream and your head felt foggy, you immediately accepted the offer. 

“thank you, mr. fushiguro. i really appreciate the offer! of course i accept it.”

“alright then, y/n. i’ll see you on monday,” megumi replied as he hung up the phone. 

holy shit. 

“shoko, can you pinch me?” you called out to your sister as you ran into the kitchen, where your sister and dad were eating breakfast.

“someone’s happy,” your dad said, grabbing you a plate. 

you sit down, immediately digging in and beamed, “i got the job!”

the two were so proud of you. your dad even posted it on facebook! 

it is now monday. 

“welcome to jujutsu tech! im mai, i’m going to be showing you around today!” a girl with short black hair says while walking up to you. 

“hi, i’m y/n! i’m really excited to work here,” you introduce yourself, while walking to the elevator with her.

she presses the button to go up, “y’know, i actually applied for your position. i don’t know why he chose you.”

rude. the elevator arrives and you both get in. 

she presses the button for the fifth floor, “just so you know, we’re on the fifth floor. make sure to not forget that.”

“oh! okay. i won’t, thanks for the info,” you reply, “so, is there anything i should know about working here? y’know, like little tips and tricks.”

she looks you up and down, and says, “maybe i’ll give you a tip if you’re able to last more than a week.”

wow, she’s just a peach. the elevator arrives at the fifth floor and you both get out. she immediately starts walking away from you, and you follow her.

“so, here’s megumi’s office. see you later!” she says, walking away from you to the receptionist’s desk. 

okay, it’s time to meet your boss. 

before stepping in, you try to calm your nerves by taking in a deep breath. you knock and open the door.

megumi is sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen. after you come in, he looks up, smiling, “are you y/n? welcome!”

you smile back, nodding, “hi, mr. fushiguro! i am so excited to work with you, i have always wanted a spot in the tech industry.”

he looks at you, seemingly a bit surprised, “well, being my assistant is a great start. i’m sure you can get a higher position here one day, y/n. also, you can just call me megumi, there’s no need to be so formal.”

he gets up from his seat, motioning for you to follow him. he leads you to a desk that is right in front of his office, “this is your desk, feel free to do anything you want with it. the phone is right here,” he says, pointing to a landline that looks eerily similar to the ones your teachers had in high school. 

you smile and sit down before saying, “is there anything you want me to do right now?”

you said that three hours ago. you have been running around the building new york city ever since. no time to sit down! it’s time to get megumi coffee, but not from just any coffee shop, one that’s 30 minutes away. 

it’s okay though, it’s all worth it. right?

you text him, “a black coffee right?”

he likes the message. 

it cannot be that special of a cafe. no black coffee can be worth that much. ding!

he texts you, “oh can u make sure to get me a croissant too?”

you like the message. 

after getting his food, you head back to the jujutsu tech building and hand it to megumi. 

“megumi, why have you been making me run around doing menial jobs all day?” 

he sighs, “look, i’m sorry. i don’t exactly want an assistant. gojo, my boss, forced me. i would’ve given the same treatment to any assistant i was given, y/n.”

is he serious? 

“you hired me. you called me two days ago and said that you wanted me as an assistant. you will have me as an assistant whether or not you care, megumi,” you reply, “you will not break me– i don’t care how unprofessional i am being right now.”

he looks surprised and says, “i truly am sorry. maybe this will just take time, you can just go do my phones. thank you, y/n.”

as you walked out of his office, you did regret your words. so, for the rest of the day you took his calls, except during your lunch break.

in the middle of your call-frenzy, you were interrupted by a pink-haired boy.

“hi! im yuji, you’re new right?” he asked, adding, “would you like to get lunch with me and nobara?”

that question led to you having the best break you have ever taken during work– you three were laughing at everything the entire time. then you returned to answering megumi’s phones. 

before leaving, you walk back into megumi’s office, finally mustering up the courage to apologize. 

“megumi, i apologize for how i acted earlier. i understand if you want to fire me,” you say. 

“i’m not going to fire you. i think it may be easier to have you here; i’ve just been so used to being independent this entire time, i’m sorry.” 

he hands you a box before speaking again, “here, you’re free to go home. see you tomorrow, y/n.”

you wave bye before leaving. you open the box– it’s a black van cleef necklace. worth the day’s work!

a/n: jenny write an actual paragraph challenge (failed)