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lipringlrh · 2 days

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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

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habken · 1 day

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/busts down your door WHAT ALL HAVE I MISSED IN BNHA?????? I just saw your comic and I’m so confused

okay so bakugou got got right we all know that, shigaraki fucked up his arm, bakugou said “oh I know what I gotta do” and did a good attack on shiggy but his heart exploded </3 and he died but edgshot said “nuh uh” and used his body to stitch it back up and then deku was late to the party and didnt even have time to be bummed out about bakugou’s corpse cause he has to fight shigaraki and then somewhere else afo does stuff blah blah blah and snatches hawks quirk (rip) and then takes off to join shigafo in that fight but all might says “not on my watch” and intercepts him and they duke it out and all this time afo is getting younger cause he used something made from eris quirk so he could keep duking it out with endeavour and that gang so he’s like a teen fighting poor old man all might who used all his savings to by himself a mech suit but it’s not going so hot for him and stain shows up to take on afo with all might but afo still wins and is about to finish off all might when bakugou starts up his own heart with his explosive sweat and makes really fruity eye contact with deku and with the power of friendship deku pauses his fight with shigafo to launch bakugou towards afo and bakugou saved all might and goes “dawg who’s this kid I’m about to beat the shit out of” and all might says “that’s afo” and bakugou goes to beat the shit out of toddler afo and succeeds because afo finally benjamin buttons out of existence but the whole balugou’s arm looks like seconds away from falling off, then after a long day of fighting bakugou takes a well deserved nap and we go back to deku v shigafo and it’s not going well for deku he’s trying to break through to tenko but he’s not getting anywear and then shigaraki steals danger sense and it gets even worse but second user goes “wait ! What if we attack him with psychic damage, give shigaraki ofa and we’ll beat the shit out of his mind so you can do your thing” amd deku is very sad but agrees and then after he goes punches all of the ofa vestiges into shigaraki they end up in his mind palace and little deku holds little tenko hand even though it’s disintegrating his own and this is where we think “wow he truly won with the power of friendship” but no !! He did not ! The afo vestige that loves in shigaraki’s mind comes out and evil laughs and says “you idiot I’ve been behind all the awful missrable things that happened your whole life ! I convinced your dad to have you, I took your og quirk away and gave you half of an ability that should have let you destroy and recreate but only gave you the destructive part because I am evil and you are too because I made you that way” and shigaraki goes :0 ?!1?;& and dissolves because afo cast vicious mockery and got a nat20 dealing double damage. We then exit shigaraki’s mind and deku has no arms !! But behind him avengers endgame style, heroes amass and aizawa steps out of the portal and goes “damn sorry midoriya if only I’d come like a minute earlier now you’re armless </3” but ! He tosses deku eri’s horn because eri havked it off herself to give to deku to save him and deku’s arms start growing back :D at the same time, afo has fully taken over shigaraki’s body and i like “haha tomura is no more it’s just me now” but he’s super bummed out because his vestige brother is gone as well and he’s like “damn what even is the reason for doing anything anymore :// I guess I’ll still kick ur ass or whatever but I’m kinda apathetic about taking over the world now” but while deku gave away ofa he still has some of the embers and with the power of froendship once more, he dodges afo’s attacks and punches him super duper hard, and we see shigaraki again :D and yoichi :00 and yoichi says sone shit to afo and shigaraki turns to deku like “this was truly our hero academia :) tell spinner I love him” and deku says “sure dawg” and they fist bump and stuff

tldr: deku gave up ofa to save shigaraki and bakugou’s arm is super super messed up which is very fun

#ask #bnha #bnha manga spoilers #mha manga spoilers #long post

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celestie0 · 1 day

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no.1 third wheeling

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, an insane amount of edging, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. drabble #1

ᰔ words. 2.4k

a/n. hello!! welcome to my very first kickoff drabble :0 i’m reaaallyyy close to finishing ch10 (which tbh i might split into three separate chapters bc it’s fucking 30k words) but i just had this silly idea for a drabble that i wanted to write. i briefly headcanoned that gojo, mina & todo all hung out once before and had a trauma-dumping session, so i wanted to explore that haha. sorry if the writing is ehhh i just kinda knocked this out in an hour.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

timeline note: this is written in gojo’s pov, and it’s set between chapters 3 and 4 (so after reader first went to one of gojo’s practices for her film major assignment, but before the scene she walks in on gojo making out with shoko in that party bathroom. basically before gojo had feelings for her and also before they kissed for the first time)

—

“What? Why do you have to bring Mina?” Gojo asks as he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder, packing his duffel bag for his away game tomorrow. Oh well, unmatching socks for three days it is.

“Because,” Todo’s deep voice on the other end of the line buzzes with a frequency that is far too low for the mic of his phone to pick up with clarity, “she’s my woman, bro. And she wants to spend time with me today, too.”

Gojo groans as he zips up his bag, tosses it onto the floor nearby the door, and then flops onto his bed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those dudes that blows off his bros to hang out with his girlfriend.”

“Not blowing you off, the three of us will just hang out together. And trust me, Satoru,” Todo’s voice drawls, “when you feel the same way about a girl the way I feel for my buttercup, you’ll understand.”

Gojo scratches his eyebrow with his knuckles and grimaces with skepticism as he stares up at the ceiling. The puppy love he’s had to hear about anytime he’s talked to Todo since the day the guy started dating Mina has been nauseating to say the least, and he’s starting to wonder if he should’ve introduced the two of them in the first place. Maybe he’s just being bitter, but no one wants to third wheel.

But that’s what he finds himself doing anyways. Sitting at a brunch spot instead of a daytime bar because Mina wanted to drink bottomless mimosas instead of beer on tap.

“Can we go halfsies?” Mina purrs as she reaches over the table to Todo’s plate, attempting to steal a piece of steak off of it but Todo shakes an index finger in the air.

“No, princess, allow me,” Todo offers, sticking his fork into meat that was so well-done Gojo could physically see it recoil from the action. And then Todo is bringing his fork to Mina’s mouth, and she’s looking him dead in the eyes as she pops it in her mouth.

Gojo sinks further down into the booth, if he slid any further he’d be laying horizontal, and his leg is bouncing underneath the table with impatience and irritance. The waiter comes by to ask him how the food is, and he says great despite the fact his arms have been crossed at his chest the entire duration it’s been placed untouched in front of him.

“Why you sulkin’ there, pal?” Todo asks, mirth in his eyes like he knows he’s torturing his friend.

This doesn’t make any fucking sense. It was supposed to just be the two of them today. A bro’s hangout. They had important things to discuss, like Fantasy Football and their Hot Ones rip-off YouTube channel idea.

“Does this place serve anything harder than this?” he asks, uncrossing one of his hands to hold up the chilled glass of mimosa that was 90% sparkling wine and 10% juice, since he poured it himself.

“You can try a different establishment,” Mina shrugs as she chews. Which she’ll probably be doing for the next two minutes, because of the well-doneness.

Gojo groans like a toddler. Todo kicks his shin underneath the table. Gojo all but growls at him.

“Just because my lady here is not interested in talking about sorority orgies like you are, doesn’t mean we all cannot engage in meaningful conversation,” Todo says.

“When the fuck have I ever talked about sorority orgies?” Gojo hisses at him. The waiter who was coming by to fill up water most definitely overheard the topic of conversation, because he spins on his heel and will likely never tend to their table again for the duration of their stay.

Okay. Maybe he was being a bit too bitter. But truthfully, he’s never had a relationship like Mina and Todo have. Well, in honesty, he doesn’t really want one like that in the first place. He’s not too into lovey-dovey bullshit, but who knows, maybe someday when he meets the right girl, he might turn into that kind of guy, just like Todo prophesied. But right now, it just makes him grumble in…jealousy? Like, oh, look, one of my closest buddies is all lovesick on a Thursday afternoon with his girlfriend who seems to not mind at all that he has had a smudge of pan sauce on his cheek for the better part of the past ten minutes. Matter of fact, she finds it endearing. What’s that like?

And then he reminds himself he’s not looking for a relationship, anyways. He’s fine with what he gets from women, and he’ll leave it at that.

Todo tries to pick up the bill, and Gojo feels humiliated by it so he asks for a separate check. The restaurant doesn’t split bills, and he ends up paying for all three.

“Mm…this is where we had our first kiss, babe. Do you remember?” Mina sighs delightedly as she holds onto Todo’s arm, walking through trees into a secluded area of the city’s park.

Gojo trails behind, his hands in his pockets, grumbling annoyances to himself. He glances at the time on his smart watch. Practice in two hours. He wanted to kill time before then, but time seems to be going even slower now.

“I remember that kiss like it was yesterday, love,” Todo says with charm before kissing Mina’s forehead. Would it be inappropriate and petty if Gojo pretended to gag?

The couple settle down with memory onto grass near a tree trunk that’s located right in front of a sparkling lake. Gojo takes a few steps forward past them until the tips of his shoes dips into the water and he makes eye contact with a duck.

He hears a lighter click behind him, and he turns around to find Todo sparking the end of a fat blunt. He watches the muscle man suck through it before passing it to Mina, who does the same and then extends her arm out towards the lake to offer it to him too.

“Satoru doesn’t smoke, babe,” Todo tells her, “athlete drug rules and all.”

Fuck it. He walks up to them onto the grass and sits down criss-cross right in front of Mina, taking the joint from her and pulls his own share of smoke through his teeth.

“I’m surprised you smoke, Mina,” Gojo tells her, the air in front of him turning cloudy as he speaks, and he hands the blunt back to Todo.

“Occasionally,” she says, “oh gosh, don’t tell y/n though, she has this crazy fear about commercial weed having flesh-eating bacteria in it, and she’d kill me if she found out I’ve ignored all her fear mongering.”

Gojo blinks at her. “Why would you mention flesh-eating bacteria infested weed while we’re smoking?”

She shrugs. “Sorry.”

“This is nice,” Todo chirps in, “my best friend and my girl. All three of us hanging out together.”

“But you said I was your best friend,” Mina pouts, “and your girl.”

Gojo has run out of imaginary gags to give.

“I mean it, seriously!” Todo says, “two of the people who know me the best, sitting with me. I love you guys.”

Mina swoons and lays her head on Todo’s shoulder. For a moment, Gojo’s eyes soften at the sight. And he feels happy for his friend. And then he realizes Todo is crying.

“What—” Gojo stutters, jaw dropping and brows furrowing at the sight.

Mina lifts her head off of Todo’s shoulder to look at him, concern in her eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just—” Todo starts, tears streaming down his face freely, “all my life, people have treated me like some really macho masculine guy. All muscles, and bursting abs, and thundering thighs, and deadlifts over four-hundred pounds—”

“Okay, we get it,” Gojo sighs as he perks his elbow up on his knee and lays his head down on his hand.

“—but you two…you two see me for who I really am. I’m just a sensitive guy who craves connection,” he says through a macho sniffle, and Mina reaches up to wipe at his tears. “I appreciate that.”

Gojo purses his lips together in consideration of Todo’s words, and he reaches out to pat the guy on the thigh in reassurance. “Let it out, big boy.”

And he does. He softly sobs for a minute or so, and Mina is lovingly doting at him the entire time. And there’s that jealous pang in Gojo’s chest again. He ignores it by taking another drag.

“You know…Todo,” Mina chimes in softly, “I moved around a lot when I was younger because my dad was in the military…for as long as I can remember, I’ve had such a hard time making friends. And sometimes, I’d even get bullied for being different, and being the ‘new girl’ everywhere I went…”

Gojo shrinks a little from where he’s sitting, realizing that the two of them are opening up about their feelings.

“But I’ve felt so happy and at home at UTokyo…I got to meet you here,” she grins, kissing Todo’s cheek, “oh, and I guess I got to meet you too, Gojo.”

He gives a nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Mina’s laying her head on Todo’s shoulder again, peering off into the lake. “And y/n, she’s my best friend. From day one when I met her, she’s always been there for me. She’s never made me feel like I need to prove anything to be myself around her. I can just be, and that’s enough. Sure, sometimes she gets a little mad about things, but I know that she’ll always be there for me at the end of the day. I think she’s the first friend I’ve had where I really understand what true friendship is.”

Mina has tears shining in her eyes too. And at the mention of you, Gojo realizes he’s listening intently. Like he needs to know more.

“I’m really grateful I’ve gotten to meet the people that I have here,” she continues, “it really is a blessing to be seen by those around you.”

Her words hang heavy in Gojo’s mind, along with the haze in his head he’s barely managing to fight off, and he feels his breathing pick up.

The two of them suddenly turn their heads to look at him, and he blinks at them.

“Well,” Todo says, “it’s your turn, man.”

“My turn for what?” Gojo asks.

“To open up, silly,” Mina laughs as she wipes a tear off her cheek.

“I—“ Gojo starts, feeling like he’s been put on the spot. He glances at his watch again. An hour until practice. “I…don’t really have much to open up about.”

“Really?” Mina asks, “nothing at all? There’s nothing on your mind right now?”

“I guess not.”

“I find that so hard to believe,” Mina scoffs, “you’re the school’s star soccer player, the best player the division has seen in years, you’re a super popular hot shot that’s adored by all the girls, and all the guys wanna be you, too.” She continues to list off these facts of his life like anyone from a mile away could read him like a book, “surely you’ve got a lot on your mind. Pressure? Worry? Or maybe you’re just on cloud 9 all the time and thinking god damn, am I glad as fuck I was born this way. That’s okay, too. Shows you’re self aware.”

“Yeah,” Todo chimes in, “whatever you’re feeling is valid, bro.”

Gojo looks between the two of them. If he felt like he was third wheeling before, now he just feels like he’s in couple’s therapy. Except the couple are the therapists.

“Uh. I guess I feel pressure,” he finally opens up, “my dad played soccer, way back in the day, and I guess I want to honor…him.” The words feel bitter on his tongue, unfamiliar and strange, and for a moment he considers why words are said at all if most are left better unsaid.

“Mm…” Mina acknowledges him, “is your father still around?”

Gojo is shocked at the question, and he answers entirely on reflex. “No. He’s not.”

It just occurs to him that Todo of all people should at least know about his father. But the guy’s not a die-hard soccer fan like most people around Gojo are, and then there’s a sad sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that maybe his father’s legacy is gone, and this was the proof. Faded away, a career cut too short to make any real change in the world. The thought has his heart physically hurt in his chest.

“Okay,” Mina chirps in again, blunt like the roll of weed pinched between her fingers, when she speaks again, “so you struggle with having an estranged father?”

“Not estranged,” Gojo clarifies, feeling chill to his bone in spring heat, “he’s dead.”

The two of them become silent at his deadpan, and quickly steal a glance at one another before stiffening in discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Mina says, dropping her haze slightly.

Now he feels like he’s turned things sour.

“It’s fine,” Gojo waves his hand dismissively in the air, or maybe to break up smoke, “I mean, it’s not, but, it’s fine.”

“Well which one is it, bro?” Todo asks, “is it fine, or not?”

A question that has haunted him for years.

“It’s fine,” he assures them.

Conversation is normal after that, as he continues to watch Mina and Todo live in soulmate glory with stolen kisses and inside jokes that sound entirely way too absurd out of context, but the thoughts of his unsuccessful trauma dump don’t leave him. Not until he cracks a small smile at how ridiculously silly and cute a girl has to be to think that all commercial weed has flesh-eating bacteria in it.

——

[fast forward to tomorrow, game day]

“Choso,” Gojo walks right up to his teammate in the middle of the locker room while the guy pulls his uniform shirt on over his head, “gimme some of your urine.”

“What??” the dark-haired man guffaws. “Why?”

“Uhh I kinda smoked some weed yesterday, so I’m not going to pass the test,” he says as he holds his urine cup out to him. Of fucking course the one time he doesn’t adhere to subtance rules, they test for urine. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy with your piss.”

“Dude,” Choso looks him dead in the eye, “I was going to ask you for your piss. I went to a Joji concert last night.”

“What?!” Gojo gasps, “without me?!”

a/n: they blackmailed nanami for his urine

[the end]

a/n. LOL thanks so much for reading this if you did haha, it was fun to write in kickoff gojo’s pov, it feels like it’s been forever. the contents in this chapter are kinda sorta relevant for ch10, so i just thought it’d be fun to write about it. see you all in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

———

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sluttywonwoo · 2 days

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cheol telling you that you should trade - he holds out his credit card to keep in your wallet in exchange for a polaroid of you to keep in his. he didn't expect the photo to be so spicy, but you can both be generous 💋🤑

you were hesitant but seungcheol insisted. he wanted you to have it just in case you ever needed it. for emergencies! (for treating yourself too but he knew he’d have to work on getting you to do that one).

you obliged, finally, but only after promising to give him something in return.

“what is it?” he asks, trying to peek behind your fingers at your wallet.

“close your eyes!”

“what? baby-”

“close ‘em! and hold out your hand.”

“just one?”

he can hear the mischievous smile in your voice when you giddily say, “yeah, just the one.”

he sighs but does as he’s asked. he owes you this much, after all. and he loves you or whatever.

his face scrunches up in confusion when he feels you place something plasticky in his palm. it feels thin enough to be paper but the texture is wrong. is it… what he thinks it is?

“open!”

it’s a polaroid lying face down in his hand. he had guessed right. this was way better than a credit card and a million times more valuable. he’d always wanted to keep a picture of you in his wallet like everyone used to do. he thought the idea was romantic.

“turn it over!”

he does, eyes almost popping out of his skull when he sees that it’s a mostly naked picture of you. he rushes to cover it before remembering you’re at home, alone, and settling on placing it gingerly on the counter in front of him.

“do you like it?” you ask. you sound nervous but seungcheol has no idea why.

“you’re joking, right?”

“well, you haven’t said anything.”

“all the blood in my head went straight to my dick. there are no thoughts up there, babe.” you snort. “i’m serious. this is so hot, you’re so hot. come here…”

he turns away from the picture to kiss you, using both hands to cup your face so that he can be the one in control. you melt into him easily, letting him lead until you have to pull away to breathe.

“i don’t know how i’m going to keep that in my wallet,” he admits breathlessly.

“just put it behind your license where no one will see it.”

“that’s not what i’m worried about.”

“then what?”

“i’m worried that i’ll get hard every time i pull it out to pay for something, just knowing it’s in there.”

“would that be the end of the world?”

“well, i don’t want people to think i’m getting it up over dry cleaning or lottery tickets or something.”

“if you’re so worried about it, i can always take it back…” you trail off as you reach for the picture but seungcheol snatches it off the counter before you can get a finger on it.

“nope, no take-backs. it’s mine.”

“but you said-”

he clears his throat unsubtly. “i’ll learn to manage.”

you put a hand over your heart in faux-surprise. “you’re so brave.”

#answered #anon #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #s.coups smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #choi s.coups smut #choi scoups smut

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babyleostuff · 2 days

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[ 💿 ] . . . TAPE 9

いつでも君のそばにいること / それが何より大切さ君も / 僕の隣にいるなら完璧 ay ya ya / 広い like the sky

☁️ "24h" by seventeen

being loved by kim mingyu means having a small big teddy bear as a boyfriend. the fact that mingyu is quite clingy not only means that you always have someone to hug, kiss, or cuddle with - but also that he is your oasis who is able to ground you. his touch, whether it's a thumb brushing your cheek, strong arms around your shoulders, or just a hand on your thigh - mingyu is always able to convey so much emotion through a simple touch, as if he was silently telling you "i'm here, don't worry." besides, there is no place where you would feel safer than in his embrace - he is your home, your safe haven, your other half that makes you feel whole.

being loved by kim mingyu means having a travel buddy with whom you could travel the whole world with if you wished. apart from physical touch, mingyu thrives off quality time - he would spend all his time with you if he could, because what's better than spending time with the people you love? and combine it with his love of travelling and discovering new places? exploring the world with mingyu would be the most beautiful adventure of your life, because this boy has the power to turn every moment into a magical and unforgettable one. whether it would be sunny italy or ice-cold iceland, every place and every thing you did would be a memory that you would treasure for the rest of your life.

being loved by kim mingyu means having someone who will always be by your side to help you get up when you fall. he's always there for you when you need him, it doesn't even need to be mentioned, but while some people coward when they see their partner going through harder times and needing more support, mingyu would go through even the hardest part of your life with you. no matter how ugly it would get, how hard it would be for you to get up - mingyu is your pillar who would always stand by you.

being loved by kim mingyu feels like a warm home to which you come back after a hard day, like the smell of the sea, like hot chocolate on a rainy day, like a hug that you don't want to end.

“i’m yours for ever -- for ever and ever. here i stand; i’m as firm as a rock. if you’ll only trust me, how little you’ll be disappointed. be mine as i am yours.” - henry james, portrait of a lady

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risuola · 9 hours

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ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

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

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

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

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

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ghosthunterbuck · 22 hours

Text

7x10 coda. beware the spoilers

Three months pass, and Eddie still isn’t used to it. It’s too quiet at home, and too awful at work, and he still grabs two bowls every morning even though he’s the only one eating.

He thinks about quitting, again. Leaving behind Captain Asshole and following Christopher to Texas. He knows he can’t. He’d promised. Eddie clenches his fists and forces himself to finish buttoning his uniform.

He sends Christopher a text, the same one he sends every morning, then shuts his phone in his locker.

“Line up in five,” Gerrard bellows from the loft. “If you’re late, you’ll be scrubbing the rig with a toothbrush, no exceptions.”

Eddie stands mechanically and walks over to the bay.

Another day, another goddamn reason to bury himself in blankets and hide until the world ends.

Buck invites him over for dinner most nights, or offers to go home with him. Eddie says no more than he says yes, but Buck… Buck’s always known Eddie better than he knows himself. He doesn’t stop asking.

“C’mon Eddie, it’ll be fun—you, me and Tommy, we can come up with ways to drive Gerrard insane.”

Buck looks at him, soft and imploring, an expression Eddie rarely knows how to refuse. But despite everything that’s happened, Buck’s managed to carve out a small sliver of happiness, and Eddie doesn’t want to drag him down.

“You go ahead,” he says. “I’m picking up half a shift at the 136 tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”

It’s true and it’s not. He is picking up the shift, but he doubts he’ll sleep.

He goes back to therapy, but he never knows what to say. It was all—everything was in his head, last time. It’s not, now. It’s all real, and it all hurts, and no amount of talking about it makes it hurt any less. He says as much to Frank.

“Then why are you here?” Frank asks.

Eddie looks away. “I don’t know,” he says.

That’s not quite true either.

Kim calls him, and Marisol doesn’t. She leaves voicemail after voicemail, apologizing for that night. Eddie can never bring himself to answer the phone. Eventually, he blocks her number.

He texts his own apology to Marisol, but it never goes through. It’s probably for the best—he doubts the message would’ve made either of them feel better.

Eddie needs—he doesn’t know. Before, he would’ve said time. Now though, he’s got all the time in the world, and he’s desperate to get rid of it.

Buck calls. Eddie can’t answer him, either. He lets it ring out, then listens to the voicemail.

“Hey Eds, it’s me. I uh—just wanted to check in. It’s been a couple days. Call me when you can.”

Eddie tells himself he will, but he has no idea when that’ll be.

Christopher doesn’t text him, but he does text Buck.

Eddie never asks what he says, and Buck usually doesn’t offer to tell him.

“Just—he’s okay, right?”

Buck smiles, a little bit sad, and leans into Eddie’s space. “He’s okay,” he says. “He misses you, even if he’s not ready to tell you that.”

Tears streak down Eddie’s face before he even realizes he’s crying. Buck wipes one away and pulls him against his chest.

“What if he never comes home,” Eddie whispers into the soft material of Buck’s sweater.

“He will,” Buck replies. “He will.”

Good morning, Eddie texts on the one hundred and second day since Christopher left. I love you, and I hope you have a good day.

He drops his phone on the table and tries not to hope for a response. A second later, though, it dings. Eddie’s heart leaps into his throat as he scrambles to open the message.

Morning, Dad.

#i've got feelings and making everyone else's problem #911 spoilers #911 #911fic #911 fic #eddie diaz

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yumeboshi · 2 days

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Mmmm, may I order myself a bloody pomegranate sundae? Looks quite delectable! ♥️

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @yandere-romanticaa .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚BLOODY POMEGRANATE SUNDAE：disturbingly red but it smells good at least．．

𐙚 dish desc。．yandere hsr men’s reactions to getting caught in the middle of one of their messy crimes.

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。general yandere themes, mentions of gore and violence, manipulation, filthy, light minors dni warning

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。aven, sunday

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ “so what if i’m crazy? the best people are”

。no literally 。this man has no shame at all. he’d give you the widest smirk in the world, staring at you straight in the eyes with those intimidating eyes of his while carelessly wiping off some blood from his expensive attire. 。“oops, you caught me.” 。it would be rather unsettling about how unfazed he is. when you call him a murderer and all sort of insults you can think of, he’d just laugh and tell you it’s all part of the ‘game’ you two were in. 。he’d love the horrified look on your face, though, so do be prepared for now intentional bloody corpses anywhere you go. 。aventurine himself knows what he’s doing is wrong. unlike a certain someone but he will submerge the voice of reason inside him if it means that it’s needed for his ‘end goal’ — which is securing you all to himself. he knows you’re breaking him apart, ruining his mind with your thoughts that gnaw on his morals like parasites, but at some point he had just decided to succumb to it. after all, he does not have anything left to yearn for if you’re gone. 。it is almost like he clings to you for his own sanity, ironically enough. you are the cause of him breaking down and yet you are also the one who lets him know why he’s still alive, so for him, killing someone is equal to reminding himself about what he’s living for. 。this gambler won’t know when to stop— he relishes in the thrill of it, he even likes getting caught by you. his sick mind thinks it’s hilarious.

“YOU DON’T have to stare at me that much,” aventurine chuckles.

how could you not, with the obvious residue of blood splattered all over him, he doesn’t even bother wiping it off. the dim candlelights flicker to illuminate your mortified face, because the seat that was occupied moments ago before you excused yourself to get something, was now empty. your dinner date with your friend was cancelled by force.

the man in front of you carelessly slides the scarlet chair out to sit in the formerly occupied place, the chair making an ugly creak as he does, crossing his legs- leaning back leisurely as he smiles at you through despicable eyes.

“i know my attire is ravishing tonight, but please, feel free to order anything else.” he gestures to the spread menu. you can’t even touch it with the substance that contaminated it, no, contaminated the whole table you were sitting in— the angelic white rose jar decoration is broken and red is bleeding into their fragile petals, the ravishing steak is inedible, broken utensils are scattered everywhere on the luxurious tiles of the restaurant, and it’s eerily quiet except for the soft romantic jazz that echoes creepily across the silence.

when you try to leave- to get away from this insane monster that is him, he stops you and pouts, telling you he’s waited for so long, surely they could have an impromptu date. you were his fiancé, it was natural for him to want to treat you to dinners alone- he’d say with a chuckle.

“dates out of the blue are always fun, don’t you think?” he would say with a smile as he eats the steak without caring much about the taste- he has his pretty princess all to him, that’s what matters more. that should be the only thing that matters.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ justifies himself

。this paranoid and obsessive man will have the most difficulty suppressing his desire to make a complete massacre 。he just can’t stand seeing someone even close to you. but as the head of the oak family, he’s also the most reputable person so he cannot risk that to succumb to his needs. 。he still will though, just not obviously. his murders are calculated and too well-woven to be suspicious of from the public eye, he knows how to pin crimes on someone else and it’s certainly not his first time doing this. 。when you raise eyebrows- he’d smile and laugh about how you’d think such lowly of him. he was your sweetheart, so you didn’t think much of it either. 。“please, love. now im quite offended.” 。he was definitely pondering over how you caught up though, so he’s going to put in extra effort to cover his tracks. 。but there’s times he loses his composure and doesn’t bother to cover up his crimes. he snaps, letting go of the thin string of sanity that held him together- and when you see that, he’d suddenly go all sweet, cooing to you that this was all for your own good. 。“they were hurting you, angel. hurting you. you’ll never be heartbroken again, not in my arms.” 。sunday is a master manipulator. human emotions are something he has dealt with tons of times. he will know what to say and what to do to pull on your cogs as if he’s performing clockwork. 。when even his reasoning and silver tongue doesn’t work on you- he would hate to do it, he doesn’t want to artificially make his darling, but for the greater good, he would, brainwash you. like mentioned, he’s a firm believer of the end justifies the means.

STANDING upon you is a fallen angel with his attire drenched with blood that isn’t his. you can tell with the way his pristine gloves are stained to oblivion.

you see his business smile crack slightly when he sees you standing in the doorway, horrified. “apologies,” sunday says with a smooth voice, but his eyes waver a little, but soon harden- as if there’s a completely rational reason why he has done whatever he did to your poor friend that was waiting for you in your room.

“what…?”

his cold eyes suddenly melt at your mortified look- he sighs with condescension, as if somehow you’re the one in the wrong. “it’s my sincere apologies i intruded your room without warning, but I must say, the situation was rather… suspicious, hm?” he slowly walks towards you- every step pronounced and clicking against the tiles as if death is knocking on your door.

“another man sitting in the bed we share? I don’t think that’s appropriate, don’t you think?” he’s close enough to push you onto the wall- blocking your escape route. “isn’t he the same person who forgot to send you presents on your birthday?”

sunday doesn’t actually care about the presents part- he was the one who discarded his gift before you could get it, anyway. he’s using it as an excuse to reprimand you.

“y-yes, but that’s not an excuse to—“

“ah ah, I don’t think there’s much of an excuse to make here. you’re dodging the point. tell me, am i not enough for you?” his sickly sweet voice isn’t paired with the sweetest gesture- in fact, you can feel his stained hands press your neck ever so slightly.

you have no other choice but to say you’re sorry- begging him that you really weren’t cheating on him; and it was just an unfortunate coincidence your friend was on the bed. every time you pleaded, he’d sigh and shake his head as if he’s giving in to your desperate begging to not leave you here alone, but inside, his heart pounds with delight seeing you break down and lose your reason.

“oh, you pathetic little dove. always needing someone to protect her from evil.” his hands caress your head, leaning into you to envelop you in a tight embrace he doesn’t plan to let go of. “you keep trying to fly away, yet you know nothing about the world around you.”

your pleas echo louder as his fingers touch your lips, stinging your nose with the metallic smell on them, and he pulls you in for a kiss that makes you choke, his tongue intruding your mouth that spills out drops of saliva from the lack of breath.

“—so I’ll make you a lovely cage, sweetheart.” he whispers against your lips, smiling through his devilishly handsome gaze before devouring them once more.

#𐙚．。articles #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #sunday x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail yandere #sunday smut #sunday x you #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yes I only write for these two at this point

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bahablastplz · 1 day

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Prove it: Seungmin x Reader

Kim Seungmin, your best friend, is so fucking smug all the time. You make the mistake of implying that no man can finger a girl the way they do in porn, and you make the mistake of challenging him when he tells you he can. Content: Smut Warnings: Fingering, slightly mean Seungmin, degradation WC: 1700

“Porn isn’t real.” Seungmin blinked at you from where he sat on the other end of the couch, unamused. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of you had been paying attention for quite some time.

“Obviously. Everyone knows that,” he says, annoyed. “Care to share why you’re bringing this up now?”

You turn your phone around to show him the video you were watching–some girl getting fingered and enjoying it a bit too much, moans increasingly loud as she squirts and creams all over the guy’s fingers.

“Dude, are you seriously watching porn right now?” He laughs at you, incredulous. “Watch the fucking TV at least.”

“You’re not watching the TV,” you point out to him. Your friend has been lazily scrolling on his phone for at least 30 minutes.

“Yeah, but I’m not watching porn while I’m supposed to be hanging out with my best friend.”

“Fine, fine!” you say, throwing your hands up in surrender. The conversation goes quiet and you ignore the blush that crawls up your face at your friend’s words.

“What part of that wasn’t real though?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

“No girl gets fingered like that and it actually feels that good,” you say. “She was obviously faking it.”

Seungmin doesn’t look up from his phone. “Maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.”

You scoff. “Like you would know, Kim Seungmin. I doubt you’ve ever even fingered a woman before, let alone made one squirt.”

He finally looks up from his phone, lifting a brow. “Are you implying I don’t get any?”

“Not implying,” you say. “Just stating the obvious.”

You and your friend have been known to tease one another relentlessly so this was nothing new. The absolutely neutral expression on Seungmin’s face, however, threw you for a loop. You find yourself backtracking, talking again way too fast and digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“He was moving his hand way too fast!” you say. “It didn’t even look like he was even touching her clit. Yet there she was, seemingly cumming all over his hand! It just doesn’t seem real, you know?”

“There are other erogenous zones other than the clit,” he says. He’s staring at you now. “I’m telling you, if no guy has ever made you feel that good from fingering, they’re doing it wrong.”

“And you would do it right?” you challenge. You’re trying to fluster him–he’s simply way too calm for this conversation, and you hate being the only one who’s heart is beating way too fast.

“I would.” He says it like it’s a fact. It pisses you off, how sure of himself he is. Seungmin, your best friend, who is seemingly nerdy and shy and quiet, who is now looking at you with all of the confidence in the world. Arousal pooled in your stomach as you thought about one fact you knew about your friend: He never took on a challenge he knew he couldn’t win.

It has always been evident in the way he engages with his own friends. They would make bets with one another, each one more ridiculous than the next, and Seungmin would egg them on and only participate if he was sure he could do it. He would always be nonchalant about it. “I could beat you,” he would say, and they would always take the bait. As if he weren’t even trying, he would always win. That infuriating piece of knowledge, the idea of finally being able to prove him wrong is what motivates you to say what you do:

“Prove it.”

He lets out a small chuckle. “If you’re trying to proposition me, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“What?” you stutter. Once again he’s managed to get the upper-hand, noticing how embarrassed you get at his words.

“You want me to finger you that bad? You’re going to have to ask me nicely.”

You start to backtrack. “Who said I was–”

“So you don’t want me to finger your pretty little cunt until you cum all over my hands? Hmm? You don’t want to squirt all over my fingers?” He says it as simply as he would if he were talking about the weather.

You want to deny him now. You want to brush it off, tell him to fuck off, and go back to doom-scrolling and pretending to watch TV. But you don’t.

“Hmm?” He asks again, taunting you.

“I do,” you reply finally.

“Then ask nicely,” he tells you. He moves closer to you on the couch, phone still in his hand. You want to pick it up and throw it across the living room. Maybe that would get a reaction out of him.

You glance down on his phone, looking to see what he has been looking at that has got him so preoccupied and uninterested up until now. You’re surprised to see nothing but his home screen. Bingo. There was nothing all along.

“Please,” you say, smiling sweetly at him.

“Please what?” Now he was getting on your nerves.

“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin! Please finger me! Please, please make me cum all over your fingers!” You cry out, exasperated. Your words are sarcastic but you get the reaction you wanted from him nonetheless; he reaches over you and grabs the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with your panties in one swift motion. You’re left completely bare for him.

This has now crossed over into uncharted territory. Instinctually, you close your legs. Are you really ready to show yourself completely to Seungmin just to prove a point? Just to show he’s wrong and that his cockiness in his ability to finger a girl is all for show?

“Nope,” he chides. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to hide from me.” His hand on your knee sends electric sparks up your body.

Yes. Yes, you were.

You spread your legs open wide for him, watching his face. He was seemingly unaffected by your actions, the ghost of a grin on his face. He makes a show of reaching over your body, ignoring your core completely to push two fingers past your lips. Your brows shoot up in surprise and he lets out a small breath that’s reminiscent of a laugh.

“Suck.” You do. You let your tongue swirl around the digits in your mouth, getting them nice and wet for him. You do so almost obscenely, moaning slightly at the taste of his fingers and letting spit fall down your chin. He responds by shoving them further into your mouth, pumping them in and out and eventually far down enough that you gag all over them. Your reactions are no longer for show now; he’s already managed to shut you up.

When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, it’s with a string of saliva. He reaches in between your legs and finally makes contact with your folds. His touches are featherlight, teasing. He’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, your labored breathing, the way you want to close your thighs again not to hide, but to finally relieve the pressure between your legs and he smirks.

When his wet fingers dip into your hole you can hear them because you’re already soaking wet. He shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out, gathering your wetness and bringing it up to spread it across your folders. He taps your clit with his fingers, gentle and not with the intention that you need.

“Seungmin, if you don’t stop teasing me I swear to God–”

And he shushes you. When you go to protest once again, his fingers finally meet your clit. He rubs circles around it, rhythmic and systemic in his ministrations. He’s working you up, slow and steady until you’re completely putty in his hands. He switches between stimulating your clit and fucking his fingers up into your entrance, occasionally curling them and hitting that spongey spot that has you holding your breath.

When your eyes meet his, the look he gives you is devious.

He leans forward, spitting directly on your soaked pussy. You gasp.

“Is this all you needed? Wanted to get on my last nerve so fucking bad, didn’t you baby? Did you just need my fingers to shut you up?”

You whine at his words. When his fingers dive into your entrance again the pace he sets is brutal, thrusting into you fast and hard. The palm of his hand hits your clit every time his fingers bully into you.

“Seung–too much,” you say.

“Shhhh,” he tells you again. “You wanted it so fucking bad, baby. You can take it.” Your hips buck up to meet his hands and you start to pulse around him–he can tell you’re getting close. His fingers leave your entrance and attack your clit, soaking wet as he rubs furiously but with precision. It’s that motion that has you cumming so hard you’re seeing stars, possibly harder than you ever have in your entire life. The noises that come out of your mouth are not your own, they can’t be. You can’t give him that satisfaction–but you already have.

When you come down from your high you’re glaring at him. He removes his fingers from your center and looks at you, smug, as he slips them into his mouth with a grin.

He turns his head and scoots back down to the other end of the couch, smiling to himself as he scrolls on his phone once again. You look at him, still trying to catch your breath.

“Yes?” He says to you. You must have been staring for a beat too long.

“You didn’t make me squirt,” you point out. It’s a baseless accusation, a way to try to salvage your bruised ego since you both know he’s already won.

He simply points down to his shirt which has been soaked from your orgasm; you didn’t even notice. “Told you,” he says.

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. You pull your pants up and cross your arms, watching the TV and pretending not to care.

“I bet that I can make you squirt all over my cock,” he says with a smile. He doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks.

You already know what you’re doing when you meet his eyes and say, “Prove it.”

*** A/N: Seungmin has been bias-wrecking me a little too hard as of late. This man is too fine.

Masterlist

#skz #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #kpop smut #kpop x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids ff #kpop fanfic #kim seungmin

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thirdsaltyhunter · 2 days

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Girl's Night

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Jody and Donna ask you for help on a hunt and you all get drunk and call your boyfriend while you're away

Warning: fluff, cuteness, kissing, mentions of a hunt so violence?, celebratory drinking, getting drunk

A/N: not proofread, all mistakes are my own

You woke up earlier than you usually did. Jody had given you a call to tell you that her and Donna had caught wind of a pack of werewolves just south of Sioux Falls and could use your help taking them out.

You wanted to start driving early so you could avoid most of the traffic and so you could offer your expertise as soon as possible. However, mornings aren't really your thing. You fought back the groan at how much you didn't want to leave your comfortable spot in bed where Dean was currently keeping you warm. Nonetheless, you began wiggling your way out from under his arm. You were trying not to wake him up this early because he hadn't slept enough this week.

As you tossed some clothes into your duffel bag, you thought you might be able to make it out without waking him, but he was always a light sleeper. A quiet grumble of your name sounded from beneath the covers.

"Hey baby," you whispered going back to the side of the bed.

"You leaving?" he asked, noticing your packed duffle bag, voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, Jody asked me to help her and Donna take out some wolves."

He nodded and reached for you to pull you into a hug which, from the position he was in, meant that you were just laying on top of him. He was always extra cuddly in the mornings and you loved it, despite how much it tempted you to crawl back under the covers with him. "Be careful out there," he said, placing a kiss to your temple.

"You know I will." You propped yourself up on your elbow so you could look down at him. "Besides, you know it's gonna be a milk run. They probably don't even need me, they just want me to come up there so we can have girl's night."

He chuckled at that, because he knew you were right. Now that he thought about it, the last time he saw them, Donna had threatened that she'd drive down to Kansas herself and kidnap you if he didn't hand you over for a weekend.

He leaned up to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. "Call me when you finish the hunt so I know you're ok."

"I will." You kissed him again before crawling off of him. "I love you, go back to sleep."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said, already burying his face into the pillow.

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he gave in to your request. Grabbing your duffle, you headed out of the bedroom to say your goodbyes to Sam before you made your way to your car to start the long drive up to Sioux Falls.

------

The hunt ended up being even easier than you thought it would be. You, Jody and Donna made a pretty formidable and efficient hunting team. The hunt was done before the sun even fully set, so you headed back to Jody's house to begin cooking dinner.

You all decided to forget the plan of cooking dinner and reward yourselves for a hunt-well-done by ordering pizza instead. Claire was off on her own hunt and Alex was working a late shift at the hospital. That left only you, Donna and Jody, sitting on the livingroom floor around a mostly empty pizza box, passing around a bottle of wine.

After catching up on everything and finishing off the bottle of wine, Jody decided to pull out the bourbon and poured a good amount of each of you.

------

About an hour later, the three of you were well past tipsy and were having the best time laughing and telling stories from various hunts.

"Soooo", Jody began with a hint of mischief in her voice. "How's Dean?"

"Yeah we need to hear about our favorite couple," Donna chimed in.

You knew she was talking about you and Dean but you decided to play around. "I don't know what you're talking about," you teased.

"Oh come on you know what we're talk'n about. We want to know what you and ol' Dean's like when you're away from the eyes of the world, y'know, when you put the hunter armor down," Jody inquired.

"I betcha he wears fuzzy socks and watches chick-flics, don't he?" Donna added teasingly.

That had you almost rolling on the floor with laughter. "Oh yeah, definitely."

It was nice being kind of childish like this with them. You had never had many friends in your teenage years and the hunting life didn't typically allow for gal-pals, but you had developed a really good friendship despite not having the time to see each other very often.

You wiped the tears of laughter from your eyes. "Oh shit, I forgot to call him", you attempted to grab your phone out of your bag, which took longer than needed, given your lack of coordination. "Dean asked me to call him after the hunt."

Jody and Donna looked at each other and awwww'ed in unison.

You tapped Dean's contact and put the phone to your ear. After a few rings you heard his voice. "Hey sweetheart."

"Heeeey", you greeted excitedly, voice slightly slurred.

"Hiya Dean-o", Donna said loud enough for Dean to hear.

You could hear him laugh on the other end, clearly gathering that you were all pretty inebriated and having a good time. "So I take it the hunt went well", he said with amusement in his voice.

"Oh it went great, we're badasses."

"I have no doubt of that," he said fondly.

"Hey Dean!" Jody cut in. "Is it true you wear fuzzy sock and watch chick-flicks when you're at home?"

"Baby, what did you tell them about me?" Dean asked you with mock annoyance.

"Oh nothing," you responded playfully. "Anyway gotta go."

You could hear he was barely holding back from laughing. "Hey hold on-" *click*

You bit your lip as you hung up on him before looking up at Jody and Donna. As soon as you made eye contact you all bust out laughing.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x reader fluff #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x female!reader #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction

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sickslimez · 1 day

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STILL IN LOVE! #6 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You laid on Kento’s chest, staring at the wall as his fingers traced patterns on your skin. You took a deep breath in, snuggling into him more and shut your eyes. The last few days you’ve been thinking about your argument with Toji, thinking about your kids. It always made your stomach twist in knots thinking about it because all that you could remember were the bad times. Everything good you guys had started to diminish from your memory. Even when you weren’t together, you two still couldn’t properly be there for your kids. From the first arguments to the last, you’d always remember the look on their faces when things got loud.

“Hey, you okay?” Kento asked, caressing your back. You’d think this man is psychic with the way he could tell something was always wrong with you.

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“Good things or bad things?” He questioned, looking down at you.

“About the kids, my family.” Another deep breath filled your lungs as you sat up. You couldn’t get a moments rest when it felt like your world was crumbling slowly in front of you.

“Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheek, “you’re a great mom to them. Just because you’ve had a couple bumps in the road doesn’t mean a thing,” he reassured.

“I know, but,” you looked at him, “Toji.” That name was all you had to say to Kento to make his smile drop.

“What about him?” He asked, sitting up.

“From the moment the arguments started and the divorced happened, it affected the kids so much. It still is and I’m scared it won’t change. He’s a good dad, he loves them so much, but me and him can never get level with each other,” you explained.

“Why do you think that is?” His brows knitted together. He rubbed the pad of thumb across your knuckles, an attempt to soothe you. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew why you and Toji could never come to a compromise. It was clear there was still something there. The feelings, the attraction. It was hard to let go of that relationship aspect and focus on the co parenting aspect.

“I’m not sure,” you responded.

“Talk to him about it, see if he knows.” He shrugged. “I know you’re probably thinking it’ll just end in another fight, but it’s worth a shot.”

You sighed, running your hands down your face. “It will end in another fight, trust me. I’ve been through enough—”

“Ah, shit.” Kento looked down at his phone.

“What?” You asked, puzzled.

“Work,” he sighed. “I gotta get going, sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed.

“Wait, I thought you said you had a day off?” You looked up at him as he put his shirt on.

“Yeah, I know, but, it’s work. Not much I can do,” he chuckled.

“You said the same thing yesterday when it was supposed to be your day off.” Your brows furrowed.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He planted another kiss on your cheek and cheek walked out the bedroom with his coat in hand. You sat there on the bed, watching him disappear. The front door open and shutting seconds after, leaving you in silence. Lying back down on the bed, you reached to the empty side. Guilt consumed you when images of Toji lying beside you flashed before your eyes instead of Kento. Quickly, you retracted your hand and turned the other way, pulling the blankets over your body.

“Mmm, daddy this ice cream is so good!” Naya licked her lips, trying to get the excess ice cream around her mouth.

“Yeah?” Toji chuckled, grabbing a napkin. “It’s my favorite.” He wiped her mouth.

“It’s my favorite too! Can I have more please?” She smiled up at him, a smile he could never say no to.

“Of course, baby girl.” He gave her another spoonful, watching her eyes light up when she got a fudge brownie piece. “How’s your ice cream, Megs?” Toji asked.

“Pretty good. Should’ve gotten gummy bears.” He slightly frowned, stabbing at contents in the cup.

Toji decided it would be nice to take the kids out for a while after what happened. The last few days everyone was in a bad mood, grouchy and exhausted. He hoped getting ice cream would help bring out their smiles again, even if it was winter time. He was trying his hardest to keep it together for his kids, for you as well. He thinks about you more than he likes to admit. How could he not when two of your kids are sitting in front of him? He can’t explain why he still feels the way he does about you, but he knows it’s genuine. But he’s also aware he deserves to see you happy with someone that isn’t him. He let your marriage fall apart, risking everything he’s ever cared about.

Toji also hates to admit that he thinks about your new boyfriend a lot too. He doesn’t know the guys name or what he even looks like, but he knows you wouldn’t just go for anyone. Late at night he stays up and thinks about all the things you’re doing with your new boyfriend that you did with him and jealously building up in his heart. He thinks about the way he used to make you smile and laugh and wonders if your new boyfriend is doing the same. He thinks about if he’s holding you at night, touching you, kissing you. Toji thinks about a lot of things, but the main thing that sits at the back of his mind is does he know where your heart truly lies?

That night, Toji saw it in your eyes. You almost gave into him like you did many times before. He knows it’s wrong, but he wants you back so badly. He craves you so badly. He knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows that you think about him too. Whether that be in love or hate, he knows he’s still on your mind. It’s wrong for him to want you to himself, to want all of your attention after he’s tried to rid himself of it so many times by trying to find you in other women. He was wrong to think anyone could replace you.

He doesn’t care about the arguments, about the fights, you’ll both work on that. You could scream at him, hit him, call him names, and though it would hurt, he’d still love you as much as he did before. You were his woman.

“Dad, can we get mom some ice cream before you bring us back?” Megumi asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He pulled the money out of his pocket, handing it to him.

“I know her favorite! I wanna buy it!” Naya tried reaching for the money.

“You’re too little, Ny-ny!” Megumi walked away towards the front counter.

“Mmmm, so mean,” she whined, folding her arms across her chest.

“It’s okay, peanut, next time you can get mommy something else.” He pinched her cheek. “Now wipe that look off your face,” he laughed.

“Mommy, mommy!” You heard Naya’s voice as you unlocked the door. She stood there with a big grin, staring up at you. You bent kneeled to her height and she jumped in your arms. “Hi!”

“Hi, baby. Have fun?” You asked, standing up straight with her on your hip.

“I did, we got ice cream and I tried daddy’s favorite and now it’s my favorite!” She nodded.

“Oh, really?” You quirked a brow. “I thought your favorite was cookies and cream?”

“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “Now it’s chocolate fudge brownie.”

“Chocolate fudge brownie, wow, you are advancing your tastebuds, baby girl,” you chuckled, earning a giggle from her. “Go put your things away, okay?” You put her down as Megumi came walking up from the car, Toji behind him.

“Hi, mom.” He gave you the smallest smile.

“Hi, sweety.” You kissed the top of his head. “Who’s that for?” You asked, looking at the half melted ice cream in his hand.

“For you. I asked dad if I could get you one and he gave me the money. It’s your favorite,” he answered.

“Awe, thank you!” You gave him another kiss and hug. “Put it in the freezer for later.” He walked past you and into the house. “Thanks for the ice cream.” You cleared your throat, looking at Toji.

“Yeah, no problem,” he plainly responded. “I want to apologize for the other day. I stepped out of line.”

“It’s fine.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. That feeling began to settle in again the longer you stayed out her with him—feeling like it was only you two in the world. Each stolen glance a showcase of your nervousness. You were thinking about what Kento had said, to take a chance and speak with him about finding a leveling plane for you two. You wanted you and Toji as parents to work out so bad, you were tired of past problems getting in the way of what came first, but at the same time you were afraid that it was going to end up how it always did. Wherever his head was at in this dynamic was different from where yours was. “Do you think we can talk?”

“About?” He stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket, cheeks red from the cold air.

“The kids. About us as parents. I want us to find a level playing field,” you explained.

“Only if we don’t have to do it in this cold,” he chuckled.

“Right,” you laughed along with him, “sorry, come in.” You walked back into the house with him following behind you. He shut the door, removing his coat. It felt like forever ago since the last time Toji was inside your house. “I’m just gonna get the kids ready for bed and then we can talk, okay?” You stood there only a few feet from him.

“Take your time, mama.” The nickname slipped out, another habit he was trying to break, but you didn’t seem to mind. He watched you walk away down the hall. Everything inside of him was screaming not to fuck it up this time, to say something that would cause a war. It was about your kids, about you guys as parents, a conversation that was long overdue. Hopefully, it’ll show improvement in rebuilding your family.

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tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 day

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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea.

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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russo-woso · 3 days

Text

Goalscorer || Alessia Russo x reader x Ella Toone

Based on this request here.

Before you start reading, I just want to say that this fictional! Just because I’ve written this does not mean I ship them in real life.

Going to the World Cup was a dream come true.

The whole experience was going to be so special for you.

What made it even more exceptionally special was the fact you were doing it with your girlfriends, Ella and Alessia, by your side.

Ella and Alessia were your whole world.

You loved them with every ounce of your body and they loved you just as much.

The World Cup so far had been the best time of your life.

Playing alongside your girlfriends and some of your best friends made you realise just how lucky you are.

After winning all of the matches in the group stages and the round of 16, it was time to move onto the final stages.

The thought of playing Colombia scared you.

Not because they were a good team, but the pressure that came with the match was immense.

As a striker, you were one of the ones the team relied on to score.

Not only that, but due to being 23, you didn’t have a part in the starting eleven and unlike your girlfriends, you were used as a super sub.

Your job as a super sub was to come on when fresh legs were needed and try to change the scoreline.

The past few games, you’d come on for Alessia, adding a new energy to the match.

The night before the match, Alessia and Ella kept telling you that you were going to get your well deserved goal.

You’d been put down by the stress, and after a long day training, they’d set up a movie night so you could relax.

During the movies, although you had relaxed in someways, the thought of the match still played on your mind.

Without knowing, a tear escaped your eye and Alessia noticed straight away, pausing the movie to ask what was wrong.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Alessia asked, worry clearly evident in her voice.

“Y/N/N, you can tell us anything.” Ella added, seeing the hesitation in your face.

“I’m scared. I’m scared for the match tomorrow.” You admitted and they both pulled you in for a hug.

“Love, you don’t have to be scared. You’re an incredible player. I have a feeling that you’ll get your first World Cup goal tomorrow.” Ella said, ending the final part with a smile on her face.

“Ella’s right, baby. And I agree, you’re going to get a goal tomorrow. End of now, you’re a great player, please don’t think you’re not.” Alessia stated, and you nodded against her chest.

“Now, what an earth is going on? Why is the wife pretending not to be the wife? I don’t get it.” Ella questioned, clearly confused with the movie.

You lifted your head off Alessia’s chest to look at her, watching her roll her eyes before quietly laughing with you.

———————

After warming up for the whole of the first half, Sarina told you that you’d be coming on just after half time.

Nerves started to build up in your body, thoughts racing through your mind.

The thought of the score being 1-1 didn’t help your nerves either, but as soon as Ella pulled you onto her lap, they all disappeared.

Whilst sat on her lap during half time, Alessia came over and rested a hand on your back, rubbing it comfortingly.

“You ready to shine, love?” Ella asked, and you hummed in response.

“You’re gonna smash it, Y/N/N.” Alessia added, pressing a kiss to your head.

Alessia repeated them words just fifteen minutes later as she pulled you into a hug, before you ran onto the pitch.

You ran past a few of your teammates, giving them a high five as you ran into position.

The game continued and within five minutes, you were receiving a ball through.

Alex had sent the ball to Georgia who managed to slot it through to you, in the box.

Using your instincts, you were the first one on it, quickly slotting the ball into the back of the net perfectly.

Somehow, between shooting and receiving the ball, you had fallen over so your celebration was a bit delayed.

Jumping up, your teammates surrounded you, Ella being the first one to you.

She enveloped you in a hug before everyone took it in turns hugging and celebrating with you.

Running back to your starting position, you looked over to the bench to see a very proud looking Alessia.

Quickly blowing a kiss to her, you looked to your other side to see Ella smiling widely at you.

What felt like five minutes later, but was actually half an hour later, the final whistle blew and England was through to the semi finals.

Ella and Alessia went straight for you, both of them picking you up before placing a kiss on your lip.

After celebrating the win on the pitch, all three of you walked to the changing rooms together, quickly getting showered and changed before walking out to the team bus.

Since you were sat next to Alessia on the way to the stadium, you assumed you’d be sat next to Ella.

With your assumption, you took a seat next to Ella but was quickly pulled to sit next to Alessia by a certain blonde striker.

“She’s sitting next to me.” Ella told Alessia, guiding you to sit back in your original place.

“Yeah but I want her to sit next to me. I want to tell her how proud I am.” Alessia fought back, standing up to make you move seats.

“She sat next to you on the way here.” Ella added, her accent getting stronger the more they argued.

“She sat next to you on the way to the Nigeria match and on the way back.” Alessia pointed out, and Ella sighed, not really having any comebacks left to continue the argument.

You looked between the both of them, Ella having a saddened look, whereas Alessia had the complete opposite look, a big smile on her face.

“Come sit with me, baby.” Alessia patted the seat next to her, as you still debated on who you’d like to sit next to.

“No.” You stated, bluntly, causing a very confused look to form in Alessia’s face and a giggle to escape Ella’s mouth.

“See, she doesn’t want to sit next to you. She wants to sit next to me.” Ella continued to laugh at Alessia, also gesturing for you to sit in the seat to her.

“I don’t want to sit to either of you. Do you even think about me? And who I’d like to sit next to? And anyway, I’ve already agreed to sit next to Lauren so she can show me what Lego sets to buy. I’ll speak to you both later.” You told them and walked away, leaving a very speechless Alessia and Ella.

“That’s your fault.” You heard Ella say to Alessia.

“Toone, don’t you dare.” You snapped, turning around to see an angry looking Ella. As you turned back around, you heard Alessia laughing. “You too, Russo.”

With their ‘telling offs’, they were silent for the rest of the way back to the hotel.

When you entered the hotel, you decided to stay with Hempo so she could show you all the Lego sets she had built whilst being in Australia.

With your disappearance, Ella and Alessia searched the whole of the hotel, even making a search party, made of the whole team, to go looking for you.

After buying about seven Lego sets with the help of Lauren, you thanked her and left her room to walk to your shared room with your girlfriends.

What you didn’t expect to happen, was to almost get knocked out as soon as you left the room.

“Y/N, oh my god, baby you’re okay.” Alessia almost sobbed as she jumped on you, sending the two of you to the floor.

“Lessi, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You asked, panicked, thinking something had happened.

“You disappeared and we thought something bad had happened and I couldn’t stand the thought of you being angry at us.” Alessia explained, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, baby.” You cooed, cradling her head against your chest. “I was with Lauren. She helped me buy some Lego sets because I didn’t know which ones to buy. And then she showed me her Lego sets. I’ve gone with ones that the three of us can build together.”

“Love, you’re okay.” A loud Manchester accent bounced off the walls of the hotel as a pair of arms wrapped around your body. “We were so worried. We’ve got the whole team looking for you.”

“What are you two like.” You playfully rolled your eyes at them.

“We’re so sorry, we shouldn’t have acted that immature. We should have let you decide and we know that now.” Ella apologised

“We really are sorry, baby. We were just so proud of you, but we took it too far and we’ve realised that. We promise we wont anymore.” Alessia added, and you pulled them both into a hug.

“And you two? Have you sorted it out between you both? You’re not angry at one another?” You questioned them and they nodded, before hugging each other, Alessia leaving a kiss on Ella’s cheek.

“Does that mean we can finally go to bed now?” Ella asked, yawning, as you and Alessia nodded in response.

———————

“Can you two please stop it!” You snapped for the one hundredth time whilst entering the room.

Everything had been going perfect, after not speaking for you for two hours and being clingy as ever, Alessia and Ella were desperate to talk to and cuddle you.

Once you’d gotten settled in bed, Alessia slung her arm around you and you laid your head on Ella’s chest.

You turned the tv on to watch a movie but you couldn’t help but notice Ella trying to move you closer to her.

You slapped her arm, silently telling her to stop, but once she tried to do again, and Alessia noticing too, hell broke loose.

Alessia and Ella kept arguing back and forth about who got to cuddle you.

You told them to stop several times but nothing was stopping them.

“I’m breaking up with you!” You shouted, and the room went silent, both of them wide eyed looking at you. “I’m kidding, but my god, that shut you up real quick. If you don’t want me to ever say them words, then I suggest you stop arguing over me. Alessia, you cuddle me tonight. Ella you get to cuddle me tomorrow night. That’s how it’s going to work from now on. Do you understand me?”

Taken aback, Alessia and Ella nodded, their eyes till wide.

“Good, now goodnight.”

The three of you settled, you cuddling into Alessia but still holding Ella’s hand so she didn’t feel lonely.

“We love you, our goalscorer.” Alessia whispered in your ear.

“I love the both of you too. Just not when you argue.”

“We promise we won’t anymore.” Ella said

“Hmm, that sounds familiar.”

Requests are open :)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #alessia russo #ella toone x reader #ella toone #alessia russo x reader

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poppyflower-22 · 2 days

Text

His Girl.

Part 1

Summary: Lando loves his rich, girl boss, girl. Though he doesn't really know what she really does underneath. Until he does.

In which Lando finds out his girlfriend is not who she said she was.

Side note: I'm using names for reader, and spelling and grammar errors. I've had this in my head for a while and while I write on Wattpad normally, I'm taking a brake because of some nasty things said to me about my writing.

2020

Lando was on another high from another podium that weekend in Australia. He was at the bar ordering another drink, when he looked across the bar, he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

She was wearing a short black dress. Her makeup and hair were just right, and she was wearing a silver chain necklace. She was sipping a Vodka Cruiser. Not a care in the world.

He thanks the bartender and makes his way over to her. He sat down bedside her. She didn't even give him a glance.

"Not interested." She spoke. And God Lando fell in love her voice. It was British. But her voice was so soft.

Lando clocked an eyebrow, "I didn't even say anything." He chuckled.

She sighed and turned to look at him. "You were going to hit on me and hoped I would end up in your bed by the end of the night. No?" She bluntly spoke with her eye raised.

Lando just stared at her in aww. Because maybe that was the case but not now. He could tell she was interesting person already. There was a spark in her eyes, of mystery and fun. She interested him very much. "Okay maybe your right." He smirked at her. "But how about I just buy you another drink?" He asked.

She wouldn't say it out loud, but he was handsome. "Fine." She sighed and Lando flagged down the bartender. The bartender gave her a nod as he left to get her drink.

"So, what's your name, love?" He asked turning his seat to face her.

She copied him. He was interesting. Mostly when she said no, the guy would walk away or start being aggressive. But not him. "Bonnie." She smiled.

"No last name?" He asked with a curious look. He watched as she brushed her black hair out her face and smiled at him.

"Salvatore." She reposed with a small smile. "Yours mystery man?" She asked taking a sip of her drink.

"Lando. Lando Norris." He spoke. He watched as she studied him.

"The formal one race driver?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

Lando nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Did you watch the race?" he couldn't but ask.

Bonnie shook her head, "Oh no, my father loved F1." She smiled. She loved her father and talking about wasn't a sad thing. Despite the life they lived.

"Oh sorry."

"No, it's okay. It was a long time ago." She reassured him with a hand on his hand. "But he was a Ferrari fan." She teased knowing he is a McLaren driver.

"Oh." He teased placing his hand on his heart. "Not Ferrari." They both laughed. Bonnie's hand was till on his and Lando started cresting without knowing. "Who's your favorite team?" He couldn't help but ask.

Bonnie smirked, "Red Bull." She told and watched with a beaming smile as he fakes a hurt look.

"Now that hurts. Right here." He spoke in fake sadness as he pointed to his heart. They both giggled with each other. "I'll get you to change your team at the end of the night." He boldly told her.

Bonnie shook her head with a smile. "Tell me something about you. No race talk. I can tell you don't want to talk about it." She said to him.

Lando chuckled, that was right he didn't want to talk about his driving right now. He wanted to know this girl right in front of him.

"I hate sea food." He told her and couldn't help but wrinklie his noes up at the thought of it.

Bonnie chuckled. She liked it. Not her favorite but she could have in curtain things. "Really. Why?" She rested her elbow on the bar and her chin rested in her hand to look at him.

Lando shook his head, "Just don't. Don't like the texture." He explained. "Do you?"

She hummed. "I can have it in curtain things, But not all the time." She told him and took a sip of her drink.

"Tell me something about yourself." Lando spoke as he watched her.

"I can speak Five languages." She smirked and watched his eyes widen.

"Wow. What are they?'

"Dunch, French, Russian, Latin and Japanese." She smiled

Lando leaned back in aww. "Wow I can't even learn a new language. Never mind five." He spoke impressed. She kept getting better to him.

She was everything he ever wanted in a girl. And not in a cocky way. in a more, he has found the one for him way. She was witty and he could just tell that she would be fun to have around.

Bonnie shrugged, "I was a homeschooled kid. My father was traveling everywhere, and I guess I just picked it up." She told him.

"You might need to come with me to my racers, you can be my spokesperson." He teased. Bonnie chuckled.

"Let's not get ahead of our self-Mr. Norris." She teased with a smirk. Their hands were still together.

Lando giggled with her. He watched in aww as she giggled. "Your very beautiful." He couldn't help but blurt out.

Bonnie blushed. She never blushed. She looked down and when she looked up Lando was smiling at her. Not smirking at her, like he was happy with his comment. No, he smiles like he was admiring her and her beauty.

And he was.

"You're not bad." She shot back with a smile. And it widened as she saw him blush.

They both sat there with blushing cheeks. That night they talked all night. They had found themselves at ease with each other. It was easy to just talk and not be judged.

Bonnie couldn't help but be attracted to him. And not just by his looks but by how he talked about his family. His hobbies and generally. He was the life of the party but deep inside there was a whole different side to him.

Lando was in love by the end of the night. He had found she was a businesswoman, running her own company and traveled for work. He had found her easy to talk to. He had found she had a poodle dog and loved him more than anything.

That night they had formed a connection that would make and break them. For better and for worse.

But no matter the outcome maybe love can overcome it all. After all, if you love someone you love all of them or not at all.

This is going to be a short series. You can request other things as well.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris #lando norris fluff #dark lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x fem!driver #f1 x oc #oc x character

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loserlvrss · 2 days

Text

꒰ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 ꒱ 박성훈

summary : you and your boyfriend were too much alike in a lot of aspects, especially stubbornness

genre : angst, suggestive, sunghoon x afab!reader, drabble tws : language, suggestive content, arguments author notes : this ones for my wife xx word count : 0.6k

"sunghoon," your thumb and index finger pressed to the bridge of your nose in an attempt to ease the tension coursing through you, "you're not listening right now."

truthfully, neither one of you wanted to hear the other out — and that's resulted in an argument. one that seems like it won't fizzle out no matter how much the two of you raise your voice.

you both had too much pride to give the other the last word. you were too much alike; your friends and family only confirming your hard-headedness. but, you had to admit that he was pretty when he was mad.

"no, y/n," he laughed, humor twisted with frustration and disbelief, "you're not listening. i have to do this, it's not something i can just skip — believe me!"

you rolled your prettily-done eyes, which only furthered his annoyance, slumping into the wooden chair you paired with your pine table, "i don't care that you made other plans — we decided months ago. we have to go, sunghoon, we've already canceled... twice!"

"and now i'm saying that i can't go. you can go by yourself, can't you? it's not a big deal, is it?"

your mouth practically hit the floor at his audacity, "it is a big-fucking-deal, babe! i need you there, you know this!"

and despite being mad at each other, the love was still there. he drove you up a wall, but at the end of the day, there's no one else you'd rather have push your buttons. yes, it was a hostile environment right now, but it was bound to break; it always does.

"well, i can't go."

your head met your hand, elbow pressed to the table, "fuck," you were going around in circles, neither one willing to compromise, "sunghoon, how many times do i have to tell you that i don't care? you promised the last time we canceled that that would be the last time. so, you just lied to me?"

it seems like fuel to the fire was the only thing you both could throw at it, poisonous words with a twisted tongue, "oh my god, are you kidding me? you're really going to fucking hold that to me, baby?"

your eyes widened, hand hitting the wood with a smack, "well, when i promise you shit, i actually mean it. so, yeah, i'm going to hold it over your fucking head."

"we're getting nowhere." he stated the obvious, making you huff, "let's talk later."

he wasn't asking, but you honestly didn't have a care in the world for it; to you that was just as good as a suggestion. you got up, approaching him with a calm demeanor. you didn't want to back down, but you knew you'd be here for a lifetime if you didn't let the dust settle — even if only a little bit.

as you were passing, you mumbled out a defeated, "fine, hoon. do whatever you want."

you felt a firm grip on your wrist, him pulling so you'd face him again. and before you got the chance to angrily-question his intentions, his lips were pressed to yours, a firm, yet gentle, hold on your cheek.

you both felt the wire snap, your bodies relaxing into each other.

between alternating sides, he whispered a confession of love to you; reminding you that despite the attitude, he was made for you.

you pulled back momentarily, still prideful enough to not let him have the last word, "i'm still mad at you."

"you know i'll make it up to you, baby," he smiled, hoisting you onto the wooden surface carefully, and slotting between your parted knees, "i promise."

but he was just like you, wasn't he?

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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leaderwonim · 2 days

Text

HALF RETURN part one

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.

warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking

“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”

You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”

“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”

She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.

Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.

Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.

“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”

“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”

“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”

Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.

For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.

“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”

“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

“Hey.”

You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.

Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.

It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.

“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”

“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.

“She was totally into you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”

“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”

“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”

“How have you been?”

Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”

You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.

“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”

“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”

“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.

“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.

From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.

After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.

“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.

“Hi Park.”

He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”

“You’re really over it?” You question.

“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”

“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”

Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”

You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.

“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.

“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”

“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.

“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”

His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”

“Understood what?”

“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”

And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

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